What Might Have Been
Disclaimer: Wish I owned The Book Thief, but unfortunatly, I don't. Everything you recognise from the Book Thief is property of Markus Zusak and no copyright infringment is intended.
So I re-read the Book Thief, and have since been having a lot of Rudy and Liesel feels. Yeah, I know. I wanted to write this partly to stem the feel-flow and partly because I couldn't get the idea out of my head. (FYI, while it did stem the feel-flow for the few weeks I was writing it, they returned to me the minute I finished.) This is possibly the longest one shot I've ever written (and the only one I've actually published) but I hope you enjoy it! Reviews are, as always, hugely appreciated :D Also, some Nazi characters in this fic express facist views, and I know it kinda goes without saying, but I'm not a facist. Just wanted to point that out in case anybody gets offended.
Warning: Erm, some mild violence and death. Well, come on, it's a Book Thief fanfic, of course there's going to be death.
Rudy was sent away, in the end.
He didn't want to go, and they sure as hell didn't want to make him. But he had to. For his family. For Germany. For der Fuhrer.
Deutschland über alles, after all.
When they ask for your children, Rudy's mother had said, You're supposed to hand them over. Rudy - sweet, irreplaceable, apple-thieving, book-retrieving, courageous Rudy - effectively handed himself over. What else could he have done?
The men in the kitchen knew that Rudy was smart, and they weren't wrong - Rudy was smart. Rudy knew the fate that would befall him and his family if he didn't go.
He had kicked over those stupid dominos, burst through the kitchen, yanked open the front door and chased after the men, who were strolling slowly down the street.
"Stop! Stop!"
He was Jesse Owens, and they hadn't gone far. He caught up with them easily.
"I want to go," he explained earnestly to the bemused men in the middle of Himmel Street. "I do. Don't pay attention to Mama and Papa; they just don't like the idea of me being so far away. They're afraid of missing me too much, that's all. I want to become an elite German. Please let me go." He Heil Hitlered then, in a desperate attempt to get the men to take him seriously, to see that he really wanted to do this. The men looked at each other thoughtfully, then back at the lemon-haired boy.
One of them clapped Rudy on the shoulder. "We'll be in touch, boy," he affirmed, and just like that, the men were gone in a flurry of salutes and swastikas. Rudy breathed a sigh of relief and turned around, ready to return home.
His eyes snagged on a girl with blonde hair and a blue eyes, a book clutched tightly to her chest. Rudy floundered, caught under the book thief's reproachful stare.
She regarded him coolly for a long moment, then turned on her heel and ran.
He followed her down to the Amper River, calling after her to stop and just listen to him, for Christ's sake. She didn't stop. She didn't even look at him. It was only once they were down there and they were alone, that she lit into him with a fury that outshone Rosa Hubermann's.
"Saukerl! Arschloch! Arschgrobbler! Dummkopf! Scheisskopf!"
"Liesel-"
She began to hit him, punching him none-too-gently on the arm, pushing him in the chest, kicking his shins. He was taller than she was, and stronger too, and her blows made little to no impact - but it hurt him more than any punch to see her so distressed.
"Arsehole! You pig! You-"
He caught her hand in mid-air, calmly locking them in place even while she struggled.
"Let go of me, Steiner, you absolute-"
"Liesel, crucified Christ, calm down!"
" I will not calm down!" She screamed, her hands struggling against his hold. "Don't tell me to calm down! LET GO OF ME!"
Silently, he dropped her hands. She punched him hard, in the side, before her lip trembled, and she collapsed in the snow, howling.
Rudy sat down beside her, and folded her into his arms. It was a strange feeling - they never really hugged, only spat on their hands and then clasped them together. He rested his cheek against Liesel's head and breathed in her scent - paint, and smoke, and the lingering fumes of a musty old basement. "There, there," he murmured, feeling slightly out of his depth.
Liesel pushed him away and say up.
"Why?"
Rudy blinked. "Why - why what?"
"Why would you even want to go there? Why would you want to leave?" Her eyes and nose were red and tears were running down her face. Rudy felt a pang of pain in his chest. "Why would you leave Himmel Street? And your family? And your mama and papa? And the football? And Tommy? And - and me? What am I going to do without you, Rudy? What am I going to do without my - m-my-"
His heart leaped. "Your what?"
"-M-my best f-friend?"
Her best friend. Rudy felt something inside him sink sadly. He thought she was going to say something else.
{A Small Fact}
Liesel had thought she was going to say something else too.
"Well? What am I going to do without you, Saukerl? Who am I going to steal apples with? Who am I going to deliver the washing with? Why would you go? Why?"
"Because."
"Because what?"
"Because I have to, Saumensch."
Liesel exploded. "You don't have to go! Your Mama and Papa said so! You were the one who made the decision! How could you be so stupid?"
"I don't want to go! I didn't want to say yes!" Rudy yelled. "But it's not my decision to make really, is it? It's the Fuhrer's! It's the Party's! If I don't go, something bad will happen, alright? They'll punish us, in someway, don't pretend as if they won't! You know the rules here Liesel. The good of the country comes first. Germany over everything, ja?"
Rudy slumped defeatedly by the side of the river, his brow furrowing.
"I don't want to leave my family. Or Himmel Street." Or you, he added silently. "But don't you see? I have to go. It's all my fault anyway, for winning those stupid races."
She was silent for a minute. Then, "What do you mean?"
He imparted the story of his medical examination to her, managing to laugh at the look on the other boys' faces when they were told to strip naked, and the sight of the tremendous nurse. He blushed slightly when he told her about having to strip naked himself and she blushed too, grinning a little in embarrassment. However, she stopped smiling when he told her of the things they trained boys to do in his new 'school.'
"Running barefoot in the snow...jumping ten metres into a metre of water..."
Liesel grabbed his hand. Rudy looked up in surprise. Her eyes were pleading. "Saukerl, you can't go."
He wrenched his hand free. "I have to go, Saumensch. I have to."
{The Things that Happened between November to December 1942}
Rudy got a letter in saying he could begin his new school in March.
Hans Hubermann was drafted.
Alex Steiner was not.
Liesel and Rudy still stole books.
Still distributed bread to the Jews.
And tried not to think of the time when they would be separated.
March 9th and 10th was his last night on Himmel Street before departure and he spent it in the Fielders basement, listening to the book thief, the girl he loved, read fifty-four pages of her latest book. If you're wondering, yes, Rudy did realise he was in love with her at this stage. His heart ached with longing and wonder every time he looked at her. He didn't know how he was going to live without her at this new elite school. He watched her lips move, watched her captivate the audience around her, and felt his confidence waver not for the first time. How could he go? How could he leave his home, his family? How could he leave Liesel?
{A Short, Simple Truth}
Rudy Steiner was afraid.
He was right to be.
When the sirens stopped, and the Himmel Street basement breathed a sigh of relief, Rudy ascended the basement steps clutching his sister's hand. Liesel and her mama were walking in front of him. She was carrying her bag of books.
Sometimes, Rudy wondered bitterly if Liesel loved her precious books more than she loved him. After all, she seemed willing enough to sacrifice him to save that bloody Whistler. She preferred to steal books from the mayors house when he was starving, desperate for a morsel of food. She stole books while he held her shoes.
But those were only the bitter thoughts of an angry, frustrated and sad boy that only came out in Rudy late at night. One smile from the book thief, and he forgot all about it.
He truly loved her, Rudy did.
"Look!"
Bettina yanked on his hand.
"Rudy! Look! Look!"
Rudy glanced upwards and frowned. The sky was red, and smoke was billowing upwards, covering the forest. But surely the raid was finished by now? And what could they possibly have bombed by the Amper River?
Rudy hesitated; he was tired, he was cold, and he was more nervous than he had ever been about the events of the next day. Was sheer curiosity enough of a reason to forgo two extra hours of sleep? Did he really care what was causing the fire at the river? There were fires happening all over the state, all over the country!
But what if some one was hurt?
What if they needed help?
Ah, lovely Rudy. Kind Rudy. He did not know how good he was.
"Stay here," he murmured firmly to his sister, before turning and sprinting past his mother, Frau Hubermann and Liesel. He heard the shouts: "Rudy, warte! Wo gehst du hin?"
He was still holding his toolbox, the one he was going to use to break into houses a few weeks ago. He had been steadily growing angrier since his acceptance of 'that goddamn school' and he needed to steal. He needed to feel in control. She talked him out of it, of course. The irony of that! The book thief persuading him not to thieve. Wonders never cease.
He had since filled the toolbox with a number of other things, including Bettina's teddy bear. It bounced in the toolbox as he ran. He could hear smaller footfalls behind him now, and a large smattering of feet behind that. Liesel, he realised, and behind her, possibly the entire street.
"Rudy!" She shouted. "Rudy, wait!"
But he did not wait. Because now he could see the fighter plane that had crashed on the banks of the Amper, and he could see the flames that were engulfing it.
He sped up.
When he reached the plane, he squinted, searching for a body among the wreckage. "There's glass," he called back. "The screen...it smashed."
His eyes fell upon the broken Englishman, and he swore under his breath.
Liesel was at his side then, staring at the plane, at the fire, at Rudy. "Don't," Rudy warned, but it was too late. She had seen the pilot. She looked at her best friend. The unspoken question hung between them: what can we do to help him?
The answer was there as well: Nothing. He is dying.
Rudy didn't know what he was thinking, or where the idea came from, but it was suddenly there, fully formulated, and he opened the toolbox. He pulled out the teddy bear, clambered over the smouldering debris, and placed the bear on the pilots shoulder. The pilot smiled, muttered something in a strange language, and then faded away, his eyes unblinking. Rudy Steiner saw Death for the first time.
{A Chilling Statement}
It would not be his last.
Rudy retreated back to where the crowd had gathered, back to where Liesel stood silently, observing the scene. They watched the plane burn.
Liesel surprised them both and took his hand.
He did not pull away.
The goodbyes took place the next day.
The seven Steiner's and Liesel accompanied Rudy to the train station. They trooped somberly to der Bahnhof in silence, the children scuffing their feet, the adults staring straight ahead. Herr Steiner carried Rudy's trunk. Frau Steiner had an arm slung over her youngest son's shoulders. Liesel walked beside him. Rudy wore a new uniform.
Rudy kissed each of his little sisters and promised to write soon. He saluted Kurt, who ruffled his hair and said "I'll miss you, Arschloch." He shook hands with his father, and gave him a warm hug. He embraced his mother for a long long time before he let go.
And then there was only Liesel, and he didn't know what to say.
Barbara Steiner cleared her throat and tried to distract the little ones. Alex Steiner turned to Kurt to chat about work, the army and football. Rudy would have laughed, if he hadn't been so close to crying.
Liesel and Rudy looked at each other.
Liesel smiled. "Be careful, Saukerl. There are a lot of Franz Deutschers in Frankfurt, you know."
Rudy offered her a weak grin. "I'll be careful."
The smile slipped easily off her face. "I'll miss you, Saukerl."
His heart thumped. "I'll miss you too, Saumensch."
He had the sudden urge to pull her to him and kiss her; to press his lips against hers and to find out, after all this time, what she tasted like. He wanted to; he needed to. He felt like he was going crazy, and he was scared shitless and he just wanted one. Goddamn. Kiss.
He didn't get it.
Rudy stared at the book thief, committing her to memory, and she pulled him into a bone crushing hug. He closed his eyes and memorized everything; the feel of her hair against his cheek, her smell, the rise and fall of her breathing. She let him go when they heard the train whistle. Her eyes were wet.
So were his.
"Now go on," Liesel said, straightening his uniform like an overprotective parent. "Have fun. Study hard. Be careful." She looked him straight in the eye. "Don't forget me."
He grinned at her. "As if."
His father handed him his trunk, and he took a last final look at his parents, his siblings, his best friend. They were all smiling, but it didn't quite reach their eyes. His mother was sniffing into a hanky.
"Go on, Rudy," she sobbed. "Don't mind me, I'm just being silly..." She trailed off. Rudy's father put an arm around her.
Rudy boarded the train with reluctance. Just as the train was about to pull away, he whipped around. They were all standing on the platform, waving. He waved back, smiling, but his stomach was a pit of butterflies. Rudy sought out Liesel, blue eyes looking for brown. She stuck her tongue out at him.
The train began to move.
"Goodbye!" He shouted, over the roar of the engine. "Goodbye!"
He waved as he counted the figures on the platform. Seven. What the- where the hell was Liesel?
"SAUKERL!"
Liesel was running beside the train, waving and shouting up at him. "SAUKERL! ENJOY IT! DONT FORGET TO WRITE! GOODBYE! AUF WIEDERSEHN!"
"AUF WIEDERSEHN, SAUMENSCH," He yelled back, laughing at her. He opened his mouth to say something else, but then stopped.
"GOODBYE! GOODBYE!"
He waved at her until the platform ended, and she had to stop running, and she just became a tiny dot at the end of the train station. He waved until she was long out of sight, and when he stopped waving, he flopped down onto the ground instead of looking for his seat. He thought of the words he had nearly said to Liesel, and shoved them down, down down to the bottom of his stomach. He swallowed the words whole, locking them in a draw in the corner of his mind. In truth, Rudy Steiner was afraid of the words, how they sounded and what they meant, and how sincere they were to him. He promised himself to not say those words until he saw her again in person, until he could be sure she'd say them back.
{Five Little Words}
I love you, Liesel Meminger.
Because after all, what else could it have been?
His new school was hell.
It was a large building in the outskirts of Frankfurt, cold, uninviting and filled with 200 adolescent boys. The teachers were brutal; if you forgot to stand when they entered the room, or worse, if you forgot to salute, you got a Watschen far far worse than any one Sister Maria could have delivered. They had to sing the national anthem every morning in assembly before they were permitted to go to lessons; and the lessons themselves sickened Rudy to his core. Rudy, who had watched his best friends father get whipped for giving bread to a Jew; Rudy, who had given bread to Jews himself, who had placed a teddy bear on the shoulder of an enemy...Rudy, whose family had been starving for months; Rudy, who had to resort to stealing apples from farmers and biscuits from the mayor - Rudy had to sit there blithely and listen to the glory and honour of the fine Aryan master race he was supposedly part of, and how Jews were scum, worse than dogs, treacherous leeches that would rob you blind, take over your neighbourhood, starve your family. They had to be exterminated, the teachers would spit, along with communists and gypsies and blacks and all other unclean races that posed the threat of contamination to German blood. And who would do it? Who would help drag their country out of the abyss of desolation? Who would fend off any and all Jews and drive them out of der Vaterland? Why Adolf Hitler of course! Hitler, der Führer, the great leader who would unite all of Europe, who would make Germany the biggest, bestest and most powerful country in Europe!
The other boys listened in rapture and cheered.
Rudy clenched his fists under the desk.
His best friend's mother was a communist. His hero was black.
But what boy didn't want his country to be the best in the world? What boy didn't look up to the Fuhrer? So Rudy cheered along with the rest of them, eye shining in wonder, arms extended at a 40 degree angle in salute. But inside, his mind was imploding on itself with uncertainty, a niggling inside of him that this was not right, and the great Jesse Owens Incident of '36 always came tumbling back to him. The night his father tried to explain politics to him.
He understood now.
'I don't want to be like them,' he thought, even as he was saluting. 'I can't. I won't.'
The rumors about the athletic activities in the school turned out to be true; the boys were forced to run, swim, hike and fight until their legs gave way and their vision turned blurry. They were given rifles and shot at practice targets. They did 400 push-ups a day. They were presented with backpacks filled with stones twice their body weight and ordered to hike up a hill. They were lead into the middle of a forest with only a compass and a torch before the teachers told them to find their own way out and abandoned them. They played football too, but there was no joy in that, no fun, nothing like the wild and wonderful games Rudy played with his rag tag bunch of neighbours back on Himmel Street. There was no freedom that young people so desperately crave. There was only strict, regimented time to pass and Rudy hated it. He hated it all.
He missed his home, a lot. He missed his mother and father. He missed Kurt and his sisters. He missed Tommy Müller. He missed Frau Diller, Pffikus, Frau Holtzapfel. He missed the school and the Hubert Oval, his fathers tailor shop, and that large, intimidating house up on Grande Strasse.
He missed Molching.
And he missed Liesel. He really, really missed her.
Sometimes Himmel Street appeared in his dreams. He would be standing at the bottom of the street, near Frau Diller's, observing. He saw Pffikus strolling along, whistling under his breath, merrier than the real live Pffikus had ever been. He watched the Himmel Street Team engage in a particularly enthralling game of football, in which Ludwig Schmeikl scored a spectacular goal from the other end of the street, thus winning the game to the applause of onlookers. He noticed that Tommy Müller's twitch had severely diminished and that the boy seemed less anxious in himself. He saw his mother on the steps of his house, smoking a cigarette. Though smoking was surely a tell-tale sign of sadness, Barbara Steiner did not seem unhappy, but rather buoyant and healthy. He spotted his sisters playing with dolls on the steps too - dolls they had never owned and wouldn't have been able to afford - and saw Kurt strolling arm in arm with an older girl from the high school, a girl that real Kurt would never have been able to get. However, it seemed as if Dream Kurt certainly could. He saw his father walking towards the house, smiling and bending down to kiss his wife. He witnessed Frau Holtzapfel spitting enthusiastically on the door of 33 Himmel Street and Rosa Hubermann swearing (cheerfully enough) at her retreating back. He sat down beside Hans Hubermann, who was playing the accordion and painting the side of a house at the same time. He saw a girl with blonde hair carrying a basket of laundry approaching them.
Liesel.
In this particular dream, she dropped the laundry (there was no way real Liesel would have done that; Rosa would have skinned her alive,) and raced towards them. While Rudy was supposedly invisible to everybody else in the dream, Liesel saw him. Liesel always saw him.
"Rudy!" She would yell, picking up the pace, grinning before flinging herself into his arms. He would hold her for only a minute or two before he woke up.
Sometimes it was just Liesel in his dreams. Just Liesel, talking or laughing or punching him on the arm. Sometimes she'd be stealing apples with him. Sometimes she'd be racing him. Sometimes she'd be kissing him. But most often than not, she'd just be there, smiling at him and saying nothing. That was enough.
He often murmured her name in his sleep.
"Liesel. Liesel."
Rudy received many letters from home every week or so; a page or two from his family, the odd note from Tommy, a few sentences from Ludwig, a line or two from Herr Hubermann, who had recently returned from war, and practically entire novels from Liesel, who seemed to be writing to him at every spare moment she had. He wrote back just as eagerly, perversely glad to know that she was missing and thinking of him, just as much as he was missing and thinking of her. Her letters came fast and thick, denoting the slightest changes on Himmel Street and it's inhabitants. She talked of her fathers return, of his broken leg, of air raids and the dilapidation of the Himmel Street Team without him. She mentioned her readings with the still silent Frau Holtzapfel, and then, in one letter in late July, of her son's untimely demise. Rudy was very quiet for a while after reading that particular letter.
She spoke of books and of washing and of accordions and a million other little things that make up the structure of a neighbourhood lost, of a neighbourhood that Rudy missed and was no longer a part of. He was grateful for that. All of the letters ended the same way.
'Hope you're enjoying yourself. Come back and see us soon. We all miss you, Saukerl! Lots of love, Liesel."
He would always trace the second last word, 'love,' and know that Liesel would never mean it the same way he did. Still, that did not prevent him from sleeping with her letter under his pillow each night, a safe talisman guiding him through the night.
And it was that action that led to his downfall.
As Liesel had warned, there were a lot of Franz Deutscher persona's in Frankfurt. Every street in every town has at least one; big, brutish, jealous types, who think the world should bow at their feet, who believe they are, or at the very least should be, the leaders of the pack. They thrive on authoritative discipline and public praise. They use their physical strength and ability to obey as a means of climbing upwards on the ladder. Their compassion meter is running on empty. Everybody has a Franz Deutscher, no matter how distant a link it may be.
Unluckily for Rudy, the Franz Deutscher of his class just so happened to be the boy who occupied the bed adjacent to his in the dormitory. This was the boy who saw Rudy stretch his hand under his pillow each night, just to check if something was still there. This was the boy who witnessed Rudy staring goofily at the ceiling for a little while before he flopped over and went to sleep. This was the boy who heard Rudy murmuring 'Liesel. Liesel." in his sleep some nights.
This was the boy who was jealous of Rudy, who performed well in areas of academia as well as athletics. This was the boy who sook revenge by stealing Rudy's letter from under his pillow and reading it out to his classmates. This was Rudy's second Franz Deutscher, and his name was Emil Grossmann.
Rudy strolled into the classroom on a Tuesday morning early August to find Emil standing on a desk, reading out loud from some scrap of paper that was making the other boys howl with laughter. Rudy (rightly) did not like Emil much, but was in a jovial mood; pleasantly, he wondered what the scrap of paper was. He ambled down the back of the classroom, not really listening, until his ears picked up a familiar name.
"I've finished that book I stole; you know, the Last Human Stranger? I tried to get Tommy to come with me to Grande Strasse, but he's too afraid. I can't wait for the days when you're home, Rudy, so that we can go back there like we used to. Himmel Street really isn't the same without you. Hope you're enjoying yourself. Come home soon! Lots of love, Liesel."
The other boys cackled. Rudy froze.
"Well, Steiner? What say you?" Emil called.
Rudy wheeled around, his heart thumping.
"Give it back, Emil."
Emil jumped off the desk, sauntering over to Rudy, a defiant smirk on his face. "Who's Liesel? Is she your girlfriend?"
"That's none of your business. Give. It. Back." Rudy spat through clenched teeth. How dare he make fun of Liesel, of his letter, of his home...
"I don't think so Steiner," Emil hissed, his hot breath blowing in Rudy's face. "I mean, it's a pretty entertaining read. All this waffle about books and your little street at home..." Emil grinned nastily, showing off rows of perfect, pearly white teeth. "I mean, it's fascinating stuff."
"It's not yours," Rudy said, standing his ground. Although he had never been an aggressive boy, there was some sort of protective instinct in him when it came to Liesel and even hearing this foul bully say her name made him angry. "Give it back, right now."
Emil laughed. "I'm not giving it back, Steiner. Finders, keepers, right? Besides," he wafted the letter under his nose, "I like the sound of this Liesel. Good-looking, is she? Yes, I thought so. Might be devoted to you at the minute, Steiner, but as soon as she meets me, that'll all change." He pocketed the letter, a sick grin sliding onto his face. "No, no, I'm definitely keeping this letter from Rudy's little whore."
And that did it.
Rudy pulled back and with a grunt of rage, punched Emil Grossmann hard on his perfect Aryan nose.
It was the first time Rudy had thrown a proper punch and it was glorious. Emil sailed backwards through the air, hitting the desks as he clattered to the ground. Dazed, he made a move to get up and retaliate, but Rudy was on him in a second. He punched and elbowed and kicked harder, and harder until he felt blood on his knuckles and on Emil's face. Emil fought back, but only managed to land some well-placed punches. He was nothing compared to Rudy, who was suddenly overcome with rage and hate. With every punch he felt a little bit better, until he heard Emil's voice and his words reverberate around his head once more: Rudy's little whore. How dare he call Liesel that, Liesel, his best friend, his partner in crime, his Himmel Street companion...
So he kept punching. Even though something inside him was warning him to stop, even though he knew that he was hurting Emil, even though he was getting tired, he continued because he was angry and he had been ripped away from his home and he hated the Führer and the country that he lived in, he-
He was finally hauled off a howling Emil by a teacher, who roared obscenities at him and the other boys for encouraging their fight. The other boys, who had been screeching at the brawling boys - "Get him, Grossmann!" "Go on, Rudy!" "Punch him, punch him Steiner!" - the other boys snapped to attention, mouths silent, masks set in stone. Rudy wiped blood from his nose and coughed, his anger dying down as quickly as it had come. He looked at Emil, who had propped himself up on his elbows. He was glaring up at Rudy with unmasked hate - and, Rudy noted, a little bit of fear.
It was then that Rudy realized what had happened.
{Rudy Steiner's Epiphany}
He'd become one of them.
After so many months of staunchly refusing to be brainwashed, that was what had happened to him. He had sat in a classroom and listened to their lessons, he had obeyed their orders, he had socialized with other boys and he had become one of them. A Nazi.
He had promised himself - he had promised that he wouldn't-
He was dragged to the principals office, where a severe telling-off about insubordination in the ranks and provocation was administrated, along with a beating that rivaled all the beatings that Rudy had ever recieved in his entire life - but he took it. He took it without flinching and he took it knowing he deserved it. Because he had become one of them.
The worst punishment though, was the one that left no mark. As punishment he was not allowed to go home for the two weeks holidays. He was not allowed to return home to Himmel Street to see his family.
{An Unfortunate Coincidence}
Rudy would regret that punishment for the rest of his life.
When he wrote the letters home to explain why he was not returning to Himmel Street, he did not mention that he was defending Liesel's honour. He simply said that he had gotten in a fight with another boy and was not allowed home as a result.
His mother wrote back to give out to him, and tell him not to get into any more fights this year or she would personally travel up to Frankfurt and give him a clip round the ear. Liesel just wrote one word on her page:
SAUKERL
In smaller lettering, at the end of the page, she wrote:
"You're an absolute idiot. Hope you didn't get hurt. Write back soon. Lots of love, Liesel."
Those three weeks he spent alone in school were among some of the loneliest he had experienced. All the other boys, friends and foes, had left the school to go home for the holidays. The school was silent, and cold, and Rudy was not only miserable, he was also bored. Most days he ran laps of the track for hours - to burn all his unused energy and to banish Himmel Street from his mind. He ran as fast as he could, because no matter how much time had passed, he was still Rudy Steiner and Rudy Steiner was still Jesse Owens. He would wake up, have breakfast, run laps, rest, run more laps, read, maybe write a letter or two, have lunch, run more laps until dinner and then, after more laps, go to bed. All alone.
"After all," the principal said smartly one day when he caught him on the track, "Holidays are a privelige, not a right, Steiner. You don't see the Führer taking a holiday, do you?"
"No, sir," Rudy panted, sweat running down his brow, even though he wasn't sure if the Führer was the shining example they should all be holding themselves up to anymore.
"No I don't."
The principal, who's name was Herr Schubert, nodded approvingly. "Good. I was disappointed Steiner, when I heard of the animosity between you and Grossmann. The pair of you have always been two of our most promising students. Don't let something like this happen again, hear?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Well, off you go Steiner. Heil Hitler!"
"Heil Hitler!"
He felt disgusted even saying it, and had to run 15 more laps to get the stench of shame off his skin.
During that time, he received three letters from home. One was from his family, wishing him well and informing of the recent events of Molching, which included a recent parade of Jews marching to Dachau. Rudy was perplexed by the last sentence in his mother's letter:
Perhaps you should write to Liesel and ask her about the parade. I think she may need to talk to somebody about it.
Rudy pored over Liesel's most recent letter, trying to find something he'd missed, hidden signs and suggestions about the parade. He found no solid evidence that Liesel was upset about the parade, but the tone of her letter was glum, much less cheerful than it usually was. Rudy noticed a few wet stains on the paper. They looked like they were tear splashes.
He wrote back, trying to sound happy, but the undertone of his letter was concerned, and he was sure that Liesel would pick up on that. What had happened to her? Did some Jew grab her and threaten her? Rudy, he reprimanded himself. Stop thinking like a Nazi. Did a soldier grab her? He thought back to what had happened to her father the last time the Jews had marched through Molching. Did something similar happen to her?
Days later, he got a letter in Liesel's writing. Rudy opened it, slightly afraid of what it contained. A single piece of paper floated out. There was no greeting. It just dived straight in.
Rudy, I haven't been honest with you.
Rudy's heart thumped and his eyebrows shot to his hairline. Honest about what?
Remember that time I fell on the Street?
Rudy read her story, the story about Max, and their friendship and the parade and the whipping, eyes wide, hands shaking. When he was finished, he snatched the letter, crumpled it into a ball and ran to the other side of the flung it into the fireplace and watched it ignite and turn black.
So much made sense now.
Why didn't she tell me?
He couldn't believe it. She had hidden….how did he not know?
I told him about you. He wrote about you in the Word Shaker.
She had been whipped. Whipped for protecting another person. Rudy felt again that anger and hatred that had overwhelmed him earlier in the month, but it was not directed at Liesel or the Jew or even the soldier - it was directed at himself. He hadn't been there to protect her, to help her, to pull her out of the crowd. He watched the letter burn, that dangerous letter that she must have known would be a risk to send to him. He sighed, leaning against the fireplace. He should have gone home.
You told him about me? He asked, when he wrote back.
Of course, she replied. You're my best friend.
I should have gone home.
Well, you definitely shouldn't have gotten into a stupid fight, Saukerl.
I'll be home soon though. At Christmas.
Christmas is too long to wait. I miss you, you Arschloch! See you at Christmas.
{A Brief Pause and Moment of Consideration}
Of course, there was no Christmas for Liesel and Rudy. Not that year.
September rolled in like a great autumnal carpet and all of Frankfurt was coloured in greens and yellows and reds and browns. One by one, Rudy's classmates and friends returned to the school and he was no longer alone. They all remembered the Great Grossmann Victory of the previous term, and Rudy found himself vastly more popular than he had been ever before. As for Grossmann himself - well, he came back to school with a crooked nose,the faintest traces of a black eye, and murderous vendetta against Rudy. That's what he said, of course - "Yeah, he'd better watch it; next time Steiner even looks at me the wrong way, I'll pummel him," - but anytime Rudy came within three feet of him, Emil shrank away and refused to make eye contact. Rudy tried to apologise once but Emil scoffed and threatened to deck him before turning away.
All in all, though he still worried about Liesel and still missed his home, and tried not to let his school poison his mind, things were looking up for Rudy Steiner. He had grown over the summer and had developed muscles due to all the laps he was running. He worked harder in school, he continued training long after all the other boys had finished, and he made many more friends than he had the term before. He wrote letters home every week, he got nine hours sleep every night, and he occasionally sauntered into Frankfurt with the other boys to catcall at the pretty girls - although he privately thought that none of these girls were as pretty as Liesel, and that the boys catcalling was rather weak. But - for the first time in almost a year - he was enjoying himself. Yes, it was true: Rudy Steiner was, at last content.
You may know what comes next.
September dissolved into October, the month Rudy was due to turn 15.
And it was only a week before Rudy's world dissolved too.
The boys weren't allowed radios or newspapers, so Rudy couldn't have heard about the bombing even if he wanted to. He had no idea what was coming when he sat down to breakfast the morning of October 9th, laughing and joking at the antics of his friends further down the table. He picked up his spoon and delved into his porridge, talking hurriedly with Albert Lindner as he went.
"Yeah, six of us."
"Six? Jesus!"
"Yeah," Rudy smiled, through a mouthful of porridge. "Four girls, two boys."
"Good God. How'd your mother manage -"
Rudy never got to hear the end of that sentence, for the principal chose that particular moment to walk into the breakfast hall. 800 boys scraped back their chairs simultaneously to salute and sing the national anthem. Rudy watched Herr Schubert all the way through. While he looked pleasant enough, Rudy could see even from the back of the hall, he was chewing his lower lip worriedly.
When they were finished he cleared his throat. "At ease."
800 boys plopped happily back down into their chairs.
Herr Schubert clasped his hands behind his back. "I need to speak to Rudy Steiner."
Rudy felt the entire hall swivel around to stare at him. He racked his brains, trying to think of what atrocious thing he could have done to be awarded a visit to the principals office. Was another Watschen on the cards? Rudy wasn't sure his backside could take it.
"What'd you do?" Albert hissed at him.
"I don't know," Rudy whispered back.
"Steiner!"
Slowly, Rudy stood.
"Follow me."
Rudy made his way up the aisle between the tables of gawking boys, eyeing the principals retreating back warily. He could not think of a single thing he had done to deserve this. Maybe Emil set him up! Yes, that would make sense. He had always been out to get him, especially now, after the fight. Yes, Emil set him up. It was the only logical explanation.
{The Other Logical Explanation}
Herr Schubert had some bad news to share with Rudy.
They reached the office. Herr Schubert let himself in and Rudy followed. Rudy stood in the middle of the office, waiting for the principal to seat himself. But instead -
"Sit."
Rudy turned to look dubiously at the wooden chair situated behind him. He turned back to the principal, confused.
"Sit, Steiner."
This time it was a command, not a suggestion. Rudy sat.
Herr Schubert sighed. "Steiner..."
"Yes, sir?"
I'm not sure how to tell you this."
Outside, it began to rain.
Schubert was talking for fifteen minutes.
The principal said a lot of things that washed right over Rudy, including "The sirens were too late,""Molching wasn't actually the original target," "Munich Street was apparently the worst affected," and "Nobody suffered. The blasts from the bombs were incredibly powerful. Death was instantaneous." But he did say one thing that Rudy heard, and once he heard it, all the hope the boy had left flew out the window.
"There were no survivors. Not on Himmel Street anyway. I'm sorry, Rudy."
The office was silent for a few minutes.
Rudy stood up. Saluted. And walked out of the office without a word.
He walked down the stairs, past the classrooms, past the breakfast hall, opened the front door and walked down to the track.
The rain was heavy and smelt like autumn. The track was now silver and slippery, and hair was plastered to Rudy's forehead. He surveyed the arena and was reminded of a different arena, hundreds of miles from here, where he had raced a girl for the first time. Where he had won three gold metals and shown Franz Deutscher who was boss. Where he had painted himself black and stupefied the world, not to mention his father.
The Hubert Oval.
His father.
His mother.
Himmel Street.
No survivors.
Kurt.
Bettina.
Karin.
Anna-Marie.
Emma.
No survivors.
Tommy.
Ludwig.
Pffikus.
No survivors.
Frau Diller.
Frau Holtzapfel.
No survivors.
HerrHubermann.
Frau Hubermann.
Liesel.
No survivors.
Rudy looked at the track once more and screamed as loud as he possibly could into the falling rain. When he stopped screaming, he started to cry.
{What Rudy Did Next}
He ran laps.
Rudy begged to go home as soon as possible, but the necessary arrangements weren't made until October 13th, four days after Rudy had heard the news. The bombing of Muinch and the fate of Rudy's family had already circulated around the school. Boys came up to him, caps in hand, eyes cast downwards, murmuring apologies and making sympathetic noises. Rudy would nod silently and watch them shuffle away, trying to put as much distance between themselves and Rudy, the tragedy that nobody saw coming. Even Emil Grossmann and his group of friends nodded respectfully at Rudy when they passed him in the hall.
Rudy didn't care.
In fact, Rudy wasn't even paying attention when the boys expressed their sorrow for him and his family. In his head, he was running through a list of names, chanting them, trying to keep them alive.
Mama-Papa-Kurt-AnnaMarie-Karin-Emma-Bettina-Tommy-Ludwig-Pffikus-Frau Holtzapfel-Frau Diller-Herr Hubermann-Frau Hubermann-Liesel.
Mama-Papa-Kurt-AnnaMarie-Karin-Emma-Bettina-Tommy-Ludwig-Pffikus-Frau Holtzapfel-Frau Diller-Herr Hubermann-Frau Hubermann-Liesel.
He said those names night and day, like a prayer. He said them when he ran laps, matching the syllables of the names to the rhythm of his feet. He said them when he ate, before he slept, while he waited and waited for somebody to let him out of the school. He said them in his mind when Herr Schubert told him that he would be returning home. He said them while he packed his things. He said them while he was taxied to the train station. He said them while he hurtled towards Molching at 100 miles per hour. He said them while he alighted from the train, stepping onto Molching soil for the first time in seven months.
The bodies had started to smell after a few days, they told him. They had to be buried as soon as possible, they had explained, to make room in the morgue. He asked them, pleaded with them to wait for him, because he had never gotten to say goodbye in the first place and he wanted to see them one last time. He was the last Steiner, the sole survivor of Himmel Street and the only one eligible to give his family the eulogy they deserved.
They didn't wait for him. They buried them anyway.
So he made his way from the train station to Molching, carrying his father's suitcase all the way. He murmured the names under his breath, "Mama-Papa-Kurt- AnnaMarie-" and took the long way around to the hostel where he was staying for the week. He refused to examine the ruins of Himmel Street. Not yet, anyway.
Rudy had cried at night when all the other boys were asleep; he cried until the small hours of the morning and then stared at the ceiling above him until the sun rose. But he did not cry as he marched through Molching, the only home he'd ever known. He did not let himself cry.
Molching was destroyed. Desecrated. Demolished. There was rubble piled high on every street, mountains of grey and black, charred remains of life and death. Houses were ripped apart, torn through like paper where the bombs had hit them. There were possessions - books, furniture, toys - strewn about on the streets. There were craters in the cobblestones. The glass crunched beneath Rudy's feet. His old school was now not a school at all, not even a building - just a crumbling pile of ash and sentimentality.
But the thing that had the biggest effect on Rudy - the thing that made him stop and look at all these streets - was the fact that the streets were silent. Empty. Apart from the Luftwaffe men, there was not a single person on the streets. Rudy was here, alone and he saw nobody he knew.
Probably because they're all dead.
Rudy allowed himself a brief chuckle at his gallows humour, but then stopped abruptly. He spotted a singed, one-eyed teddy bear with its leg torn off sitting amongst the rubble. Anna-Marie owned one like this, he recalled, and I gave it to the dying pilot. He picked the teddy up. Where's his owner, I wonder?
{Suspicion}
I suspect Rudy knew exactly where the teddy's owner was.
I suspect you know too.
She one of the first I picked up on that morning, the teddy tucked faithfully under her arm. She flipped over in her sleep, right before the bomb fell on her and her brother.
Rudy held the teddy in the palm of his hand as he trudged to the hostel. He dropped off his case, but still clung tightly to the toy, as if afraid it would run away from him. Though he felt guilty about stealing the teddy, what he really needed was something to hold, some familiarity, some comfort - and who would deny him that? So he grasped the teddy as he made his way outside, as he turned toward the direction of Molching cemetery where his family lay. He took his first step.
He took his last step.
Move, he willed his feet. Come on. You've done it before. Move!
But his feet, compliant as they usually were, would not move. At least not in the direction of the cemetery.
Rudy didn't realise where he was going until it was too late. "Wha- what! No! Stop!"
But Rudy's mind would not listen to Rudy's heart (such as it is with most things; the heart always wins.) Rudy watched, horrified and helpless, as his feet carried him to the place that he had longed to be for months. It was also the last place on earth he wanted to be right now.
Himmel Street.
Rudy wasn't sure if it was because he was overwhelmed and underprepared for the sight of the street, but he didn't see the rubble, or the glass, or the possessions thrown out on the street. For a split second, He saw the street he had been born on. He saw the place he had grown up. He saw the people - the friends he knew.
He saw his home. Himmel Street was his home.
But his home was no longer home. Rudy blinked, and saw the street for what it now was; bombed and abandoned and in ruins. Himmel Street - home - was gone.
Rudy cocked his head and saw that the cobblestones that he had played football with his friends on now had chunks blown out of the middle of them. Frau Diller's was completely eradicated, reduced to a jagged grey shop front and floating dust. If Rudy inclined his head down the street, he would be able to see Tommy's apartment block and number 45, the Fielder's home - both had toppled and a hill of bricks and rubble marked the site where they used to stand. Rudy wandered aimlessly down his street, staring at this building or that, occasionally running his hand along the bricks, trying to figure out how one could be living and laughing and existing one day and dead the next. He was so lost in thought that he almost missed his own house, if the red door hadn't caught his eye.
The red door that Rudy had opened thousands of times; that had been battered, slammed, re-painted, kicked, scratched and suffered the extensive damage only six boisterous children can administer - the red door was still standing. Rudy gazed at it for a long time. It stood perfectly, shining faintly in the sun. It had not been ripped off its hinges by the blast; no flying beam had hit it and shattered it - in fact, Rudy thought, it looks better than it did before.
The same could not be said for the rest of his house, however.
The bomb had severed the roof of his home apart. The shingles that Alex Steiner had fixed so happily the year before were now broken and hanging off the roof. If Rudy looked down at the street, he could see them, smashed at his feet from when they slid off the roof and hit the cobblestones. The beams of the house had fallen when the roof was blown apart, ploughing through the floor and crushing the entire second storey of Rudy's house.
The second storey was where his family slept.
Hesitantly, Rudy climbed the crumbling steps and twisted the door knob. It opened easily, and he stepped into the exposed inside of his former home.
Rudy could see, amongst the debris, bits of wooden furniture and fluff that must have been the crushed beds. He saw the leg of his father's chair, the broken mirror of his mother's second hand vanity. He saw Kurt's charred Hitler Youth cap, and Anna-Marie's blackened school books. He saw a rag doll, a deflated football, a singed Nazi flag, two picture frames with pictures still intact - one of his mother and father on their wedding day, and one of the whole family at the beach over six years ago.
Amazing what things survive when humans don't, isn't it?
Rudy scampered around the wreckage of the house, looking for things that his mother would want him to take, rather than the belongings going to the looters. He deposited the teddy bear by the front door, reminding himself to take it when he left. He scrabbled, he dug, he climbed, and searched; he flung away the bits of rubble that could be concealing any priceless family heirlooms; he looked until he could look no more, until his face and uniform were coated in dirt and dust and sweat.
In the end, he pocketed both photographs, and placed them carefully in his breast pocket. He took one of Anna-Marie's schoolbooks, the one where she had drawn a picture of Rudy and Bettina for her lesson on 'Meine Familie.' He took Kurt's cap, the rag doll and a left shoe that must have belonged to one of his sisters - he was unsure of which one. He took a necklace that had belonged to his grandmother - completely destroyed by the fire, but Rudy knew his mother had adored it, so he shoved it up his sleeve. He left the flag - he didn't even want to look at it - but grabbed thefootball on a whim and carried it under his armpit.
As he walked out the door, he spotted the stolen bear. He bent down to pick it up, but stopped suddenly, a thought occurring to him.
He left the teddy bear on the top step of the house, placing him so he faced the street. He looked like he was guarding the door. Rudy gave a weak half-smile as he walked away.
{What Was Going On In Rudy's Head}
He thought he was paying back Anna-Marie for the teddy he gave to the pilot, but really, he was leaving the bear as a symbol, as a shrine of sorts. He placed it there so people would recognise the innocence that had been in the house and how quickly it was lost.
Just as Jesse Owens taketh, Jesse Owens giveth away.
He did the same thing with the football.
Rudy strode purposefully down the street, ignoring the wreckages around him, eyes set dead ahead to where Tommy Müller's apartment block used to be. He reached it in seven or eight strides. He laid the football down beside of the what used to be the front of the building, clasped his hands behind his back, and cleared his throat.
"To Tommy Müller, the best footballer Himmel Street has ever seen," he called out in a loud, ringing voice. "May we never forget him."
No-one was there to hear Rudy eulogize Tommy Müller, but he knew Tommy would have appreciated it anyway. Rudy closed his eyes in respectful silence and remembered, trying very hard not to let the tears fall. His lower lip wobbled.
After enough time had passed, he opened them again, nodded at the football, looked up at the rubble one last time, and then walked away.
The Rudy in Frankfurt thought that he would want to stay on Himmel Street forever. The Rudy in Molching knew that if he stayed here any longer, he would cry or get sick, or both. He had to leave. He had said his goodbyes. He took a deep breath and turned around, ready to go to the cemetery.
That was when his eyes fell on 33 Himmel Street. Liesel's house.
It was worse off than his own home had been. While his house had been hit badly, there had still been a structure standing and objects that had survived the explosion. This was just... Nothing. A pile of wood and bricks. Rudy only knew that it was number 33 because of its location. Nothing about the house was recognizable. Nobody could have survived a force that destroyed a house that badly.
Amongst all his crying in Frankfurt, Rudy had not allowed himself to cry for Liesel. He had cried for everybody else, but not for her. She wouldn't want me to, he reasoned. She'd be cross if I did. Rudy had not let himself feel or believe that Liesel was truly, really gone, because he knew that if he did, it would break his heart. Losing all of his family had almost killed him - thinking about Liesel, who was as close to family he could get in a best friend, would surely have pushed him to breaking point. He could not have that. He would crack. He could cry, but not for Liesel, not for someone he had loved so very much and so very deeply. Rudy was a Steiner. Steiners were stubborn. He did not cry for her.
But looking at the ruin of her home, Rudy knew she was dead, and felt a shooting pain in his chest and before he knew it, he was curled up on the cobblestones, wailing and sobbing like he never had before.
They were dead. She was dead. Why wasn't he dead?
She had had blonde hair and blue eyes and stole books and called him Saukerl. She hid a Jew. She bet up people who made her angry. She denied him kisses. She played football.
Oh, how Rudy loved Liesel. Much more than he realised. Much more than she realised too. How his heart broke for her every time she felt any pain or sorrow. How lost and lonely he felt without her.
Rudy wasn't crying strictly for Liesel, you see, for the human mind rarely works that way. He was crying for Liesel, of course, but he was also crying for his family, Tommy, the overwhelming feeling of being alone and of being left behind; for Himmel Street, for a lost childhood, for a world that had turned so far on its head that he wasn't sure which way to go anymore. He cried because he was a child who was grieving for everything he had ever known. He cried because he needed to.
He cried for an hour, and sat on the street as the tears dried on his face. A Luftwaffe man who had been patrolling the streets came up to him eventually, peering down at him curiously.
"What's wrong, boy?"
Rudy looked up at him incredously. Wasn't it obvious?
"Ah." The man squinted. "Lost some family members, did you?"
Rudy nodded.
"Ach, it's a shame, boy, it's a crying shame. Never seen damage quite like this. Muinch Street is worse off, building wise, but still! A big street like this, and no survivors. Well, only the one, but still..."
Rudy looked up at him sharply. The man had trailed off, examining the pile of rubble in front of him.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"Hmm?"
"What did you say?"
"I didn't say anything. You said something."
"You did, you did say something! About survivors."
"Ah, yes." The man furrowed his brow. "Only one on Himmel Street. Shocking really, isn't it? Pretty girl. Blonde hair. Pulled her out of her basement -" he gestured up and down the street. "Somewhere around here, anyway. Can't remember exactly where."
Rudy had leapt up the minute he heard "Blonde hair."
"How old was she? What colour were her eyes?"
The man blinked at him blithely. "Erm...I don't know what age she was. Could have been your age. Could have been younger. And I don't know what colour her eyes were. I was too bloody busy pulling -"
"Where is she now?" Rudy interrupted him, his hands shaking. slightly with nerves. "Where is she?"
"The Burgermeister and his wife took her," the man said, eyeing him with suspicion. "She's up there on Grande Strasse. But I wouldn't-"
Rudy didn't hear what he said. He had already taken off running.
He ran faster than he ever had before. His feet pounded the pavement. His lungs burned.
Rudy remembered the way to the Bugermeister's house well - the days that he went up here to deliver washing or steal with Liesel were committed to memory. It was a lucky thing he remembered so exactly, because at that moment, his mind was focused entirely on something else.
Somebody - anybody - was alive.
Could it be-?
No. It couldn't.
But what if-?
No.
Well, why are you running then?
Because, it...it...
It could be anyone, Rudy reasoned with himself. There were plenty of blonde haired girls on Himmel Street. It could be Kristina Müller. Unlikely, but still. Or it could be one of the Fielder girls - they had blonde hair, didn't they?
Rudy was trying to distract himself, to make sure he didn't get his hopes up, but it wasn't working. He was praying and wishing and begging any and all Gods that ever were and ever would be that the girl who had survived Himmel Street was Liesel. He could not remember ever wanting something so hard in his life - not even food during the times he was really starving. He needed Liesel - Liesel was his best friend, his other half, the only person who could understand the loss of the neighbourhood as fiercely as he could. He hoped it was her. He prayed it was her.
Please, please let her have lived.
Please.
Stop it, he told himself sternly. You'll only be disappointed. Just stop.
All that matters now is that you won't be alone.
He sprinted the last fifteen meters to 8 Grande Strasse and nearly ran smack bang into the large wooden door. He was jittery, whether from nerves or excitement or pure adrenaline - he wasn't sure - and was shaking, fidgeting, hopping from foot to foot. He had half a mind to fling open the door and demand to see whoever she was, or if there was even a her to see. But he didn't, for even though he knew his mother was dead, he was sure that she would find some way to come back from beyond the grave and clatter him if he wasn't anything but polite and mannerly to the mayor.
Rudy took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his fists. Come on, Rudy. Get a grip. Calm down. Lower your expectations.
Liesel is not behind that door.
Someone else is.
And you must be kind.
Now, knock.
He did.
One second.
Two seconds.
Footsteps.
Three seconds.
The door swung open to reveal the Burgermeister. He frowned at Rudy, and cocked an eyebrow expectantly.
Rudy swallowed.
"Yes?"
"Hello, sir," Rudy began breathlessly, "My name is Rudy Steiner. I live - lived on Himmel Street and I heard-"
He had forgotten to Heil Hitler, but that didn't matter now; he slurred through the rest of the sentence like a drunk man.
"That-there-was-a-survivor-and-that-she-was-living-here-and-if-it's-quite-alright-with-you-can-I-see-her-please?"
The Burgermeister looked confused. "What? Who are-"
But he was cut off. By a voice.
"Herr Hermann?"
It was a soft voice; soft but tough and clear, like the owner of the voice had seen a great many things and knew that life was too short not to get your point across. At the same time, it was polite and respectful with a hint of curiosity and something resembling hope. Rudy jumped when he heard it, and he stared past the Burgermeister to the stairs behind him.
It was a voice he knew well.
Is it?
It was.
His prayers had been answered. Liesel was staring back at him in shock, hovering at the top step of the stairs.
"Rudy," she said.
Rudy stared at her, mouth agape.
"Rudy," she repeated, not taking her eyes off him. "Is it you?"
{Thought Process}
What Rudy wanted to say: Yes. Yes, it is me. I'm here. You're alive. Why didn't you write?
What Rudy actually said: Nothing.
As it turned out, he didn't need to say anything, because Liesel was suddenly flying down the stairs and he was sprinting up it and they met in the middle, right before they fell into each other's arms.
She buried her face into his shoulder. "Oh, Rudy."
Then she burst into tears. Rudy joined in. They sank to their knees on the middle of the stairs, still embracing.
"Saumensch."
"Saukerl."
"I t-th-thought you w-were dead."
"I'm s-so sorry, Rudy."
"Wh-why didn't you write?"
"I c-couldn't... I hadn't..."
Rudy knew what she was trying to say, even though she was barely intelligible through a river of snot and tears.
How could one find words to describe something like this?
"My- my Papa," Liesel cried into Rudy's shoulder. "My Papa!"
"I know," Rudy soothed.
"No, you don't," sobbed Liesel. "My Papa!"
"I do know, Liesel, I do -"
"My - my - my books!"
Rudy bit back his tongue to prevent himself from saying something he would regret. He was suddenly angry. Did she not realise he had lost his Papa too? His entire family? And she was here, crying about her godamn books? She hadn't even tried to reach him and tell him she was alive. Did she not understand how much pain he had been in for the last few days?
She was still wailing, muttering about her Papa and her Mama and her loss, not caring in the slightest about him, and what he had gone through.
And then Rudy did something he thought he'd never do to the Book Thief.
He walked away from her.
He peeled her off of his shirt, stood up, turned around and walked down the stairs, past the bemused Burgermeister and out the front door. He kept walking, even though he heard her confused voice calling after him: "Wh-what? Rudy? Rudy! Wait!"
He strolled casually down to the Amper River, for the first time in his life not caring whether or not Liesel was following him. He observed the falling leaves and the stillness of the trees, his anger fading but never fully dissipating. He watched the birds fly overhead and listened for the familiar gush of the river. When he finally arrived at the river, he sat down in the dirt.
He picked up a flat, smooth rock that was laying on the grassy bank and flung it into the water.
When Liesel Meminger finally did emerge from the trees, she had a face like thunder. Rudy was skimming stones on the surface of
the water.
"What the hell was that?"
"What the hell was what?" Rudy replied coolly.
"You running out like that! You just left the - why did you-? What are you even doing? Listen to me!"
"I am listening to you," said Rudy casually. "I've always listened to you. And I thought that maybe once - just once - you might listen to me."
"Excuse me?"
Rudy whipped around, his mouth set in a cold, hard line. "You're not the only victim here, you know. I lost just as much as you - if not more."
Liesel's eyes widened. "What's that supposed to mean, Steiner?"
There were no playful 'Saumensch" and 'Saukerl' uttered by either of them. This was not a friendly conversation.
Rudy snorted. "You lost two family members and some books. I lost my entire life. My home, my friends, my siblings ... Everything." He looked up at her. "Not everyone has a mayor's house to go to, you know."
Liesel's eyes were filled with loathing.
"I hate you," she spat.
"I knew that school would change you. What, so you think because your family was bigger than mine, your loss is greater? You think that I don't feel as shit as you do?" Her voice, was getting higher and shriller as she went on. "Yeah? Is that what you think? Well, I know a lot more about losing people than you do, Steiner! This is only Day One for you! I've been losing people for almost five years! I lost my mother! I watched my brother die! I saw Max being whipped on the street and walking to his death! I saw Michael Holtzapfel's body being cut down from the rafters! I saw my mama and papa being laid out cold on the street!" Liesel was screaming at him now, her face red. "And I lost you - you! - the minute you ran out on the street and told those men that you wanted to go to that bloody school!"
"You didn't lose me!" Rudy bellowed back. He was on his feet now. "You didn't lose me! I'm right here! You could have written to tell me what had happened! You could have contacted me to tell me you were safe! I was the one who thought I had lost you! I spent the entire week thinking you were dead!"
"I thought you had been told! How was I supposed to know?!"
"You should have written anyway! A telephone call, a letter! Even a postcard with the sentence 'Hello, Rudy, just to tell you, I'm not dead, lots of love, Liesel!' would have done!"
He was being ridiculous now, and he knew. But that didn't stop him.
"Face it, Liesel, you didn't write because you didn't-"
"What, Rudy!? I didn't what? Would you like to know the real reason I didn't write? Because I didn't think really think you'd care! You didn't even come home this summer because apparently getting in some stupid fight with some stupid Arschloch was more important than coming home to see us!"
"It was important! I was defending you!"
"And then you spent most of September making eyes at pretty girls in Frankfurt while the rest of us moped and missed you, and now? And now it's gone, and you're back only because you feel guilty! You don't care about any of us!"
"How did you-?"
"Tommy let me read the letters," she said, tears streaming down her face. "But what does that matter?"
Rudy's couldn't bear to see his best friend cry; he internally cursed himself and his temper for lashing out so abruptly. What had happened wasn't her fault, it wasn't anybody's fault - what did he think he was doing? He should just apologise now and be done with it.
Rudy thought all of this. But he was a teenage boy, and teenage boys rarely obey the sensible side of their brain.
"I do care," Rudy tried to reach for her hand but Liesel backed away, shaking her head. "I do care! You're the one who doesn't care!"
"Me?"
"Yes, you! You never cared about me! You wouldn't let me kiss you and -"
Rudy knew he was in the wrong because Liesel's face went an interesting shade of violet and her teeth ground together. Rudy held up his hands. "Liesel-"
"You think I don't care about you because I wouldn't let you kiss me?!" She screeched so loud that Rudy squirmed backwards. Birds flew up out of the trees. "How dare you, Rudy Steiner! How dare you assume that it was your - your - agh!"
"Well, it's true!" Rudy exploded. "You rejected me every time! You don't care about me at all! You wouldn't have cared if I had died in that bomb blast as long as you had your precious books with you!"
That was when Liesel Meminger raised her hand and slapped Rudy Steiner clear across the face.
The slap rang out over the open water. Rudy reeled backwards, clutching his cheek. Liesel looked at him with hatred.
"Don't you ever say that," she hissed, her voice shaking. Her eyes were brimming with tears. "Don't you dare think for one minute that I wouldn't care if you died. Don't ever accuse me of not caring about you, Steiner, because I do care. I care an awful lot. If you had died in that bomb blast I -" her voice hitched - "I don't know what I'd do. And if you -" she hiccupped "If you really were my best friend , then you wouldn't fight or say things like that. You would just sit with me. And help me try and remember our neighbours. And help me to smile. You would not be out here arguing with me." She shook her head at him sadly and shoved her hands in her pockets. "I'm going home."
"Home?" Rudy asked.
"Back to the Hermann's house." Liesel turned to go. As an afterthought, she whipped around and added, "Don't follow me."
She turned once more and began making her way into the forest. Rudy was silent.
When Liesel hit the edge of the forest, Rudy spoke.
"Liesel."
Liesel sighed and looked back at him.
"Yes?"
Rudy stared straight at her. "There are a lot of pretty girls in Frankfurt."
Liesel glared at him with unmasked venom. "I hate you."
"Yeah, I hate you too," Rudy replied before he marched over to Liesel Meminger, grabbed her and kissed her full on the mouth.
Rudy had never kissed a girl before, and as first kisses went, it was pretty ordinary. They bumped noses, their teeth collided, Rudy felt as if his lips were slightly too wet, and he was rather unsure of what to do with his hands - but, in that moment, even though it had been the worst day of his life, he was bursting with happiness. Because he. Was. Kissing. Liesel. He actually was kissing her! After years of dreaming, wondering, plotting ways he could get her to kiss him, here
he was, kissing her! Their lips were touching! And she was kissing him back! She wasn't stopping him! Yes! Yes!
Rudy refrained himself from punching the air, but only just.
Liesel kept on kissing him for a few more minutes and then kicked him in the shin and shoved him away.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Arschloch?"
Rudy barely felt the pain through his euphoric haze. "You kissed me! You kissed me!"
"What?" Liesel was horrified. "No, I didn't." She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "You kissed me, you Saukerl!"
Saukerl. Yes. They were back.
"No, no, no, you kissed me back. I felt it," Rudy wagged a finger at her mock- accusingly. "Don't try to deny it! You kissed me and you liked it!"
"I did not!"
"Did too!"
"Did not!"
"Well, I can demonstrate on you again, if you'd like..."
"Take one more step, Saukerl and I'll break your arm."
"You kissed me!"
"I didn't!"
Rudy slumped down on the bank of the river with a contented sigh. "Say whatever you like, Saumensch. You kissed me. I'll remember it forever."
Liesel groaned and flopped down beside him. "Arschgrobbler."
"Dummkopf."
Liesel smiled at him. Rudy grinned dopily back.
They were silent for a minute or two. Then Liesel spoke.
"Rudy?"
"Ja?"
"I don't hate you."
"I don't hate you either, Saumensch."
"Good." Liesel edged closer to him. "Rudy?"
"Hmm?"
"I'm sorry about...you know."
Rudy's smile faded. "Yeah. I'm sorry too."
They watched the water for a while longer.
"I wish Kurt would have been able to see that kiss," Rudy remarked. "He would have cheered. Clapped me on the back. He would have been delighted you finally kissed me."
"For the last time, I did not-"
"I'm going to miss him a lot," Rudy said, throwing his head back and squinting at the sky. Liesel knew he was trying not to cry.
"I tried to make them wait for you to come home before they buried them," she offered in a small voice. "But they wouldn't listen. I did everything I could think of. I screamed. And cried. I even tried cling to the undertakers leg so he wouldn't be able to bury them. But," she heaved a sigh. "They did it anyway."
Rudy gave a wan smile. "Thank you."
Liesel laid her head on his shoulder. "I missed you, Saukerl."
"I missed you too, Saumensch."
They sat like that for a long time. They did not speak. They watched the light fade from the trees. The watched the river gush. They though about Himmel Street.
It was Rudy who spoke next. "Liesel."
"Yes?"
"Will you come with me to the cemetery?"
Liesel nodded. "Of course."
"I want to... Will you show me?"
"Show you what?"
"Where the graves are?"
"Of course I will, Saukerl."
Liesel got up and brushed the dust and dirt off of herself. Liesel offered her hand to Rudy to help him up. He took it gladly.
He didn't let go of her hand while they wandered through the forest towards the graveyard. Sometimes he stopped and the realization of what going to the graveyard really meant startled him; the pang of pain hit him all over again like a tonne of bricks and he felt like he couldn't breath. He felt lost. And scared. And sad.
But sometimes, he stopped and looked down at the hand entwined around his; and sometimes he looked at the person that hand belonged to, tugging him forward. And sometimes, just sometimes, he smiled.
And that was how, on the worst day of the worst year of his life, Rudy Steiner came to feel something that he had thought he had long since forgotten how to feel. It was not complete happiness - no, it was too early for that - but it was not fear and certainly not sorrow. No, this feeling was warm, and flowing throughout him, sparking, igniting, billowing into a flame. He felt it every time he looked down at the small, pale hand linked with his.
{What Rudy Felt}
Hope.
And the knowledge that, in the end, he would be fine.
A/N: So. That's it. It's been exorcised. Incredibly cheesy, I know. Review?