Page 260 - The Book Thief

All right, you said them.

As Liesel left the room, she could hear the wooden spoons clicking back into
position in the metal jar that held them. By the time she reached her bedroom,
the whole lot of them, the jar included, were thrown to the floor.

Later, she walked down to the basement, where Max was standing in the dark,
most likely boxing with the Fhrer.

Max? The light dimmed ona red coin, floating in the corner. Can you teach me
how to do the push-ups?

Max showed her and occasionally lifted her torso to help, but despite her bony
appearance, Liesel was strong and could hold her body weight nicely. She didnt
count how many she could do, but that night, in the glow of the basement, the
book thief completed enough push-ups to make her hurt for several days. Even
when Max advised her that shed already done too many, she continued.

In bed, she read with Papa, who could tell something was wrong. It was the first
time in a month that hed come in and sat with her, and she was comforted, if
only slightly. Somehow, Hans Hubermann always knew what to say, when to
stay, and when to leave her be. Perhaps Liesel was the one thing he was a true
expert at.

Is it the washing? he asked.

Liesel shook her head.

Papa hadnt shaved for a few days and he rubbed the scratchy whiskers every two
or three minutes. His silver eyes were flat and calm, slightly warm, as they

always were when it came to Liesel.

When the reading petered out, Papa fell asleep. It was then that Liesel spoke
what shed wanted to say all along.

Papa, she whispered, I think Im going to hell.

Her legs were warm. Her knees were cold.