Page 170 - The Book Thief

THE ACCORDIONIST

(The Secret Life of Hans Hubermann)

There was a young man standing in the kitchen. The key in his hand felt like it
was rusting into his palm. He didnt speak anything like hello, or please help, or
any other such expected sentence. He asked two questions.

QUESTION ONE
Hans Hubermann?

QUESTION TWO
Do you still play the accordion?

As he looked uncomfortably at the human shape before him, the young mans
voice was scraped out and handed across the dark like it was all that remained of
him.

Papa, alert and appalled, stepped closer.

To the kitchen, he whispered, Of course I do.

It all dated back many years, to World War I.

Theyre strange, those wars.