Page 328 - The Book Thief
P. 328
Its a body, another girl suggested. Black hair, pigtails, and a crooked part down
the center.
Its another bomb!
It was too slow to be a bomb.
With the adolescent spirit still burning lightly in my arms, I walked a few
hundred meters with the rest of them. Like the girls, I remained focused on the
sky. The last thing I wanted was to look down at the stranded face of my
teenager. A pretty girl. Her whole death was now ahead of her.
Like the rest of them, I was taken aback when a voice lunged out. It was a
disgruntled father, ordering his kids inside. The redhead reacted. Her freckles
lengthened into commas. But, Papa, look.
The man took several small steps and soon figured out what it was. Its the fuel,
he said.
What do you mean?
The fuel, he repeated. The tank. He was a bald man in disrupted bedclothes.
They used up all their fuel in that one and got rid of the empty container. Look,
theres another one over there.
And there!
Kids being kids, they all searched frantically at that point, trying to find an
empty fuel container floating to the ground.
The first one landed with a hollow thud.
Can we keep it, Papa?
No. He was bombed and shocked, this papa, and clearly not in the mood. We
cannot keep it.
Why not?
