Page 278 - The Book Thief

Just you and me this time, Rudy suggested. No Chemmels, no Schmeikls. Just
you and me.

The girl couldnt help it.

Her hands itched, her pulse split, and her mouth smiled all at the same time.
Sounds good.

Its agreed, then, and although he tried not to, Rudy could not hide the fertilized
grin that grew on his face. Tomorrow?

Liesel nodded. Tomorrow.

Their plan was perfect but for one thing:

They had no idea where to start.

Fruit was out. Rudy snubbed his nose at onions and potatoes, and they drew the
line at another attempt on Otto Sturm and his bikeful of farm produce. Once was
immoral. Twice was complete bastardry.

So where the hell do we go? Rudy asked.

How should I know? This was your idea, wasnt it?

That doesnt mean you shouldnt think a little, too. I cant think of everything.

You can barely think of anything. . . .

They argued on as they walked through town. On the outskirts, they witnessed
the first of the farms and the trees standing like emaciated statues. The branches
were gray and when they looked up at them, there was nothing but ragged limbs
and empty sky.

Rudy spat.

They walked back through Molching, making suggestions.