Page 320 - The Book Thief

What if he dies here, Hansi?

Tell me. What in Gods name will
we do with the body? We cant
leave him here, the smell will
kill us . . . and we cant carry
him out the door and drag him up
the street, either. We cant just
say, Youll never guess what we
found in our basement this morning. . . .
Theyll put us away for good.

She was absolutely right.

A Jewish corpse was a major problem. The Hubermanns needed to revive Max
Vandenburg not only for his sake, but for their own. Even Papa, who was always
the ultimate calming influence, was feeling the pressure.

Look. His voice was quiet but heavy. If it happensif he dieswell simply need to

find a way. Liesel could have sworn she heard him swallow. A gulp like a blow
to the windpipe. My paint cart, some drop sheets . . .

Liesel entered the kitchen.

Not now, Liesel. It was Papa who spoke, though he did not look at her. He was
watching his warped face in a turned-over spoon. His elbows were buried into
the table.

The book thief did not retreat. She took a few extra steps and sat down. Her cold
hands felt for her sleeves and a sentence dropped from her mouth. Hes not dead
yet. The words landed on the table and positioned themselves in the middle. All
three people looked at them. Half hopes didnt dare rise any higher. He isnt dead

yet. He isnt dead yet. It was Rosa who spoke next.

Whos hungry?

Possibly the only time that Maxs illness didnt hurt was at dinner. There was no