Page 214 - The Book Thief

Is itgood?

He looked up from the pages, forming his fingers into a fist and then flattening
them back out. Sweeping away the anger, he smiled at her. He lifted the feathery
fringe and dumped it toward his eyes. Its the best book ever. Looking at Papa,
then back at the girl. It saved my life.

The girl moved a little and crossed her legs. Quietly, she asked it.

How?

So began a kind of storytelling phase in the living room each night. It was
spoken just loud enough to hear. The pieces of a Jewish fist-fighting puzzle were
assembled before them all.

Sometimes there was humor in Max Vandenburgs voice, though its physicality

was like frictionlike a stone being gently rubbed across a large rock. It was deep
in places and scratched apart in others, sometimes breaking off altogether. It was
deepest in regret, and broken off at the end of a joke or a statement of
selfdeprecation.

Crucified Christ was the most common reaction to Max Vandenburgs stories,
usually followed by a question.

QUESTIONS LIKE
How long did you stay in that room?
Where is Walter Kugler now?
Do you know what happened to your family?
Where was the snorer traveling to?
A 103 losing record!
Why would you keep fighting him?

When Liesel looked back on the events of her life, those nights in the living

room were some of the clearest memories she had. She could see the burning