Page 489 - The Book Thief
P. 489
She said none of it.
Her hand leaned on a flaking branch at her side. Rudy, if I tell you something,
will you promise not to say a word to anyone?
Of course. He could sense the seriousness in the girls face, and the heaviness in
her voice. He leaned on the tree next to hers. What is it?
Promise.
I did already.
Do it again. You cant tell your mother, your brother, or Tommy Mller. Nobody.
I promise.
Leaning.
Looking at the ground.
She attempted several times to find the right place to start, reading sentences at
her feet, joining words to the pinecones and the scraps of broken branches.
Remember when I was injured playing soccer, she said, out on the street?
It took approximately three-quarters of an hour to explain two wars, an
accordion, a Jewish fist fighter, and a basement. Not forgetting what had
happened four days earlier on Munich Street.
Thats why you went for a closer look, Rudy said, with the bread that day. To see
if he was there.
Yes.
Crucified Christ.
Yes.
The trees were tall and triangular. They were quiet.
