Page 80 - The Book Thief

Bumping into each other. Apologizing. Moving on and finding room.

Children were there, quick as, well, quick as kids gravitating toward a fight. A
stew of arms and legs, of shouts and cheers grew thicker around them. They
were watching Liesel Meminger give Ludwig Schmeikl the hiding of a lifetime.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, a girl commentated with a shriek, shes going to kill
him!

Liesel did not kill him.

But she came close.

In fact, probably the only thing that stopped her was the twitchingly pathetic,
grinning face of Tommy Mller. Still crowded with adrenaline, Liesel caught
sight of him smiling with such absurdity that she dragged him down and started
beating him up as well.

What are you doing?! he wailed, and only then, after the third or fourth slap and
a trickle of bright blood from his nose, did she stop.

On her knees, she sucked in the air and listened to the groans beneath her. She
watched the whirlpool of faces, left and right, and she announced, Im not stupid.

No one argued.

It was only when everyone moved back inside and Sister Maria saw the state of
Ludwig Schmeikl that the fight resumed. First, it was Rudy and a few others
who bore the brunt of suspicion. They were always at each other. Hands, each
boy was ordered, but every pair was clean.

I dont believe this, the sister muttered. It cant be, because sure enough, when
Liesel stepped forward to show her hands, Ludwig Schmeikl was all over them,
rusting by the moment. The corridor, she stated for the second time that day. For
the second time that hour, actually.

This time, it was not a small Watschen. It was not an average one. This time, it
was the mother of all corridor Watschens, one sting of the stick after another, so
that Liesel would barely be able to sit down for a week. And there was no
laughter from the room. More the silent fear of listening in.