Page 502 - The Book Thief

Earth was destroyed where Max Vandenburg had stayed on his feet.

At 31 Himmel Street, Frau Holtzapfel appeared to be waiting for me in the
kitchen. A broken cup was in front of her and in a last moment of awakeness, her
face seemed to ask just what in the hell had taken me so long.

By contrast, Frau Diller was fast asleep. Her bulletproof glasses were shattered
next to the bed. Her shop was obliterated, the counter landing across the road,
and her framed photo of Hitler was taken from the wall and thrown to the floor.
The man was positively mugged and beaten to a glass-shattering pulp. I stepped
on him on my way out.

The Fiedlers were well organized, all in bed, all covered. Pfiffikus was hidden
up to his nose.

At the Steiners, I ran my fingers through Barbaras lovely combed hair, I took the
serious look from Kurts serious sleeping face, and one by one, I kissed the

smaller ones good night.

Then Rudy.

Oh, crucified Christ, Rudy . . .

He lay in bed with one of his sisters. She must have kicked him or muscled her
way into the majority of the bed space because he was on the very edge with his
arm around her. The boy slept. His candlelit hair ignited the bed, and I picked
both him and Bettina up with their souls still in the blanket. If nothing else, they
died fast and they were warm. The boy from the plane, I thought. The one with
the teddy bear. Where was Rudys comfort? Where was someone to alleviate this
robbery of his life? Who was there to soothe him as lifes rug was snatched from

under his sleeping feet?

No one.

There was only me.

And Im not too great at that sort of comforting thing, especially when my hands
are cold and the bed is warm. I carried him softly through the broken street, with
one salty eye and a heavy, deathly heart. With him, I tried a little harder. I