Page 466 - The Book Thief

The wall of trees kept the color of a burning Munich at bay. By now, the boys
eyes had adjusted not only to the darkness, but to the face of the pilot. The eyes
were like coffee stains, and gashes were ruled across his cheeks and chin. A
ruffled uniform sat, unruly, across his chest.

Despite Rudys advice, Liesel came even closer, and I can promise you that we
recognized each other at that exact moment.

I know you, I thought.

There was a train and a coughing boy. There was snow and a distraught girl.

Youve grown, I thought, but I recognize you.

She did not back away or try to fight me, but I know that something told the girl
I was there. Could she smell my breath? Could she hear my cursed circular

heartbeat, revolving like the crime it is in my deathly chest? I dont know, but she
knew me and she looked me in my face and she did not look away.

As the sky began to charcoal toward light, we both moved on. We both observed
the boy as he reached into his toolbox again and searched through some picture
frames to pull out a small, stuffed yellow toy.

Carefully, he climbed to the dying man.

He placed the smiling teddy bear cautiously onto the pilots shoulder. The tip of
its ear touched his throat.

The dying man breathed it in. He spoke. In English, he said, Thank you. His

straight-line cuts opened as he spoke, and a small drop of blood rolled crookedly
down his throat.

What? Rudy asked him. Was hast du gesagt? What did you say?

Unfortunately, I beat him to the answer. The time was there and I was reaching
into the cockpit. I slowly extracted the pilots soul from his ruffled uniform and
rescued him from the broken plane. The crowd played with the silence as I made
my way through. I jostled free.