Page 473 - The Book Thief
P. 473
share their enthusiasm.
Earlier, Id held her papa in one arm and her mama in the other. Each soul was so
soft.
Farther away, their bodies were laid out, like the rest. Papas lovely silver eyes
were already starting to rust, and Mamas cardboard lips were fixed half open,
most likely the shape of an incomplete snore. To blaspheme like the
GermansJesus, Mary, and Joseph.
The rescuing hands pulled Liesel out and brushed the crumbs of rubble from her
clothes. Young girl, they said, the sirens were too late. What were you doing in
the basement? How did you know?
What they didnt notice was that the girl was still holding the book. She screamed
her reply. A stunning scream of the living.
Papa!
A second time. Her face creased as she reached a higher, more panic-stricken
pitch. Papa, Papa!
They passed her up as she shouted, wailed, and cried. If she was injured, she did
not yet know it, for she struggled free and searched and called and wailed some
more.
She was still clutching the book.
She was holding desperately on to the words who had saved her life.
