Chapter Text
Out of the corner of her eye, something golden flickered past the kitchen window. Liesel caught the blur of the boy and knew, without seeing, that it was Rudi.
There was a rhythm to his knock. It wasn’t urgent, but it wasn’t nothing, either.
She finished drying the drinking glass, placing it upside down on the shelf above the sink before answering. Her eyes magnetised to the dusky crescents curved beneath his own. ‘Hi,’ Liesel said, a trickle of concern in her voice.
‘Hey. Could we talk?’
She looked away from the weary lemon-head to her papa sitting in the kitchen. Hans Hubermann’s stupid kindness sat opposite him at the table. ‘Papa, may I go outside?’
His chin jerked upwards, the framework of his fingers breaking apart beneath. ‘Ja.’
She untied Mama’s apron and hung it around the side of the cupboard, then went out the door. Rudi suggested they go down to the river. He didn’t run his mouth like usual on the way there, and walked as if he had something in his pockets. Something heavy.
It was approaching afternoon, and the sun was at its peak in the sky, making the shade of the trees on the bank refreshing to sit under. Liesel watched Rudi draw a shaky breath and braced herself for the unpleasant news.
‘The Gestapo was in my kitchen yesterday,’ he said frankly. ‘They wanted Mama and Papa to send me away to this special school in the name of the Führer.’ There’s a twitch to his brows, a muscle flickering against his jaw as he worked to contain his emotions. ‘I leave this Monday.’
The pit of her stomach was a goal and a powerful kicker had just scored. Liesel shakes her head, but the two men in their long black coats she saw in the street yesterday forced her to think otherwise.
Naturally, Alex and Barbara Steiner refused. Eavesdropping from the living room, Rudi was filled with fear, knowing that punishment was unavoidable; so at the last minute he entered the kitchen, where the adults were gathered, and declared that he’d go, that he was ready now.
Rudi looked over at Liesel with this hopelessness that made her ache. ‘Their faces were sickeningly pleased.’
She leaned her head against the trunk with a dull thud. ‘Alles ist scheisse,’ she declared. ‘Where is this Führer fan club?’
He expelled a laugh though his nose. ‘Neubeuern. They call ‘em Nationalpolitische Erziehungsanstalten, then stick the name of the town or city on the end. There are thirty of these schools throughout the Reich.’
*** A DARK TRANSLATION ***
Nationalpolitische Erziehungsanstalten = National Political Institutes of Education,
officially abbreviated NPEA, commonly abbreviated Napola for
Nationalpolitische Lehranstalt (National Political Teaching Institute).
Rudi brings his knees up to his chest. ‘I saw the way one of them glanced at Mama and Papa as they left, like they were dirt. It was clear—if I hadn’t spoken up, they’d have made them pay.’
The anger marched inside the book thief like soldiers.
First Max, now Rudi. Soon Papa.
Everything could all be traced back to one human:
‘I hate the Führer,’ Liesel growled, breaking her promise to Papa over never saying that aloud again. ‘Oh, I do.’ Tears welled up, searing like acid in the corners. Instinctively, Rudi’s eyes darted about their surroundings. Safe. ‘And the Party,’ she added. ‘They’re all so obsessed with control. If you didn’t go, or if another boy didn’t, they’d find some way to make sure the consequences hit.
They claim the rules exist for the good of the country and people—ah! In reality, your family, your friends—even your life—all comes second to Hitler. All of it for the sake of one man—a mere human, Rudi.’
There are moments when I am struck with something rare—something so profound that it makes my endless journeys feel like it’s worth something. That’s how I feel now, watching Liesel Meminger, my favourite little human. I’ve seen her grow from a frightened, wordless girl, into someone who stands tall in the face of a country that would crush anyone who dared to resist. I see something remarkable in her. It’s not just her anger, or her pain nor even the way she’s found her voice—it’s the way she’s learned to wield it.
No matter what happens to her next, Liesel has already won. And in that, I am proud of her. A pride I have never quite known for anyone else.
I know what you’re thinking—I’m forming an attachment with a human. No. I simply admire her.
A soup of emotions tear across Rudi’s face in quick, sharp bursts. Then, taking Liesel by surprise, he reached out, his fingers brushing against the strands of her waxy hair, guiding them aside from her face. His fingertips skimmed across her scalp, she bit her bottom lip, before he grasped the whatever thing nestled in her hair. A tiny snap of a twig breaking free is the only sound between them.
The moment leaves her breathless, a foreign blend of sparks and nervousness—no, it’s not new, Liesel, she thought—flooding her body.
‘You’re always the one with the words, Liesel,’ he said fondly, lowering the hand that had brought about a surplus of emotions. ‘And me? I’m just here to be annoying and hope It’ll make you laugh in the end.’
A flustered squeak escaped her throat, and she averted her gaze from those blue, blue eyes. Liesel cleared her throat. ‘Your head’s going to be filled with nasty lies, Saukerl. Stay true to yourself. Stay the boy I know.’ She curled her toes nervously inside her shoes. ‘I must to tell you about someone, Rudi.’
She revealed Max Vandenberg, her most precious secret. The outside world and the inside world had collided.
His standing in the dark, boxing with the Führer.
The Standover Man.
Their snowman in the basement.
His hair of feathers.
Liesel hoped that when hatred became the air Rudi breathed, he would think of Max, sketching quietly in a basement—where no innocent person should live—and choose rightly.
A human like them.
Her friend.
Her brother.
Rudi was in awe of her courage, caught between admiration for her bravery and fear over what could have happened if the secret ever slipped out, but also wounded by the lack of trust. He wanted to be part of her world, even the dangerous parts.
‘Why did you keep this a secret from me?’
She shifted nearer to him. ‘It was the way it had to be, Rudi.’
‘You’re forgiven.’ His tone is mock serious. ‘Building a snowman in a basement... my type of fun.’
It’s not a look Liesel means to give him, but it happens anyway. The subtle tilt of her head, no clever quip or sharp edge to her expression. A soft surrender.
Rudi touched his hair, suddenly unsure of it. Of everything. Is it gratitude? Is it... no, of course not. Is it simply the sunlight reflected in her eyes? which were like the last pieces of chocolate in a half-empty box—sweet, rare, and too good to ignore.
I’ve seen a million versions of it, but the book thief’s was simple. By the a river. Under a tree. Later, in the candlelit cradle of a basement, she gave those feelings three words:
falling
in
love.
• • •
Monday returned, unkind as ever.
Outside the shoe-box house number thirty-five unfolds a touching scene. Alex hugs his son and imparted valuable counsel. Barbara framed his face in her palms and kissed his brow. She had carefully combed his hair.
Rudi stands taller before his brother, but Kurt saw through the mask easily and gave his little brother’s shoulder a squeeze. It’s quiet, like everything else Kurt Steiner does, but the weight of it spoke volumes without a single word.
Rudi kneels in front of the youngest, Bettina, brushing the clinging citrusy strands from her wet cheek. ‘Monsters,’ she murmured darkly, eyeing the black columns warily over his shoulder.
‘Shh,’ he said, with a wink.
She copied him. ‘Shh.’
He was saying goodbye and he didn’t even know it.
Standing at a respectful distance, the Hubermanns and their foster daughter looked on. ‘Stay in line, Rudi!’ Hans shouted plainly. Yet when the boy was closer, Hans lowered his head, his voice a near-whisper, ‘But sometimes, it’s okay to step out. Just be smart about it.’
Rudi nodded, tightening his grip on the straps of his bag. His eyes flitted towards Liesel, who tried to give a supportive smile. ‘If I recognise you after all this, I’ll give you the one thing you want so badly,’ she promised, picking at a loose thread in her skirt.
He didn’t smile. Not at first. His face froze in that shape boys wear when they win something they didn’t believe they’d ever touch. It’s a beautiful, stunned sort of silence. In the space of a breath, Rudi saw it: every imagined kiss, every stolen moment he had dreamed up over the years, parading past his wide blue eyes.
Liesel was mightily pleased with herself. He was an open book; her favourite story to read.
‘Son, kommen,’ commanded one of the coat men impatiently. She rolled her eyes. Shut it.
He sighed. ‘Servus, Saumensch.’
‘Servus, Saukerl.’
Rudi, after her promise, didn’t walk towards the car, he glided. Like, he knew that on his return, those cherry-tinted, inviting curves will be his as last; will steal his breath away. The promise was as good as a kiss itself, and nothing, not even the cold, uncomfortable leather backseat could extinguish the flame lit up from the inside, and burning through him like fire through paper.
A puffed chest, a straightened spine, and the Gestapo called it allegiance. A willing boy. A proud future leader. They saw what they wanted. What fools. I wish I could whisper the truth into their ears, just to see their faces fall.