Page 503 - The Book Thief

watched the contents of his soul for a moment and saw a black-painted boy

calling the name Jesse Owens as he ran through an imaginary tape. I saw him
hip-deep in some icy water, chasing a book, and I saw a boy lying in bed,
imagining how a kiss would taste from his glorious next-door neighbor. He does
something to me, that boy. Every time. Its his only detriment. He steps on my
heart. He makes me cry.

Lastly, the Hubermanns.

Hans.

Papa.

He was tall in the bed and I could see the silver through his eyelids. His soul sat
up. It met me. Those kinds of souls always dothe best ones. The ones who rise
up and say, I know who you are and I am ready. Not that I want to go, of course,
but I will come. Those souls are always light because more of them have been

put out. More of them have already found their way to other places. This one
was sent out by the breath of an accordion, the odd taste of champagne in
summer, and the art of promise-keeping. He lay in my arms and rested. There
was an itchy lung for a last cigarette and an immense, magnetic pull toward the
basement, for the girl who was his daughter and was writing a book down there
that he hoped to read one day.

Liesel.

His soul whispered it as I carried him. But there was no Liesel in that house. Not
for me, anyway.

For me, there was only a Rosa, and yes, I truly think I picked her up midsnore,

for her mouth was open and her papery pink lips were still in the act of moving.
If shed seen me, Im sure she would have called me a Saukerl, though I would not
have taken it badly. After reading The Book Thief, I discovered that she called
everyone that. Saukerl. Saumensch. Especially the people she loved. Her elastic
hair was out. It rubbed against the pillow and her wardrobe body had risen with
the beating of her heart. Make no mistake, the woman had a heart. She had a
bigger one than people would think. There was a lot in it, stored up, high in
miles of hidden shelving. Remember that she was the woman with the
instrument strapped to her body in the long, moon-slit night. She was a Jew