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7/10/14. REWRITTEN ENDING the book thief featuring: flying memories the best and the worst the planes the bombing of heaven the accordion the mayor.
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The Book Thief Parts 8 10 and the Epilogue 7/10/
everyone inside and outside the range stood side by side, trying to improve their nation, and ultimately, their world. This was a place where Max didn’t have to hide for being what he was, and where Liesel didn’t have to keep secrets of harboring a Jew. Where her family wasn’t murdered for their belief in communism and they still lived. The book thief was enraptured by her dream, and she never wanted to leave it. Even when the sirens sounded, she fought her consciousness, hoping to linger just a bit longer. Werner begged her to go and stay safe in her dream. When Hans shook her, she had no choice but to surrender to awakeness. “Liesel, come.” Werner disappeared. Grabbing her precious books, she ran with Papa to the bomb shelter. The houses of Himmel Street were creaking from fear as the bombs fell atrociously overhead. The women clutched their babies and prayed that everything would be alright, while the men stood passively and carefully concealed their emotions but cowered on the inside. Children covered their ears and hoped that the beating of their hearts in their ears would drown out the beating of the bombs. In the midst of violence and panic, joyful notes sounded, and words from a story were quietly read. The apprehensive atmosphere noticeably loosened. No one had to look, but sitting on little wooden chairs in the center of the room were Liesel and Papa, scaring away fear itself. The shower of bombs slackened to a quieter drizzle, until they disappeared altogether, ending with a bomb that even the bravest would have flinched at. Minutes later, the all clear siren sounded. The people hiding in 45 Himmel Street peeked outside.
✵ ✵ ✵ WHAT THEY NOTICED ✵ ✵ ✵
1. A thin layer of snow like ash. **2. Scattered shrapnel.
Himmel Street was safe, but many of its residents immediately started sprinting. Ignoring their own houses, they ran to the next neighborhood, and their searching voices called out names.
“Anton! Anton! Where are you?!” “Lara! Are you safe?” “Have you seen Heidi? Has anyone seen Heidi?” People had just begun to crawl out of their basements to the safety of the street. I waited for the right moment, and then climbed in to collect a couple of unlucky souls who emerged from their shelters too early. Those people had believed that they were safe, and that “the bombs would never hit them.” So much for that. Liesel and Papa stood and watched the flames devour the buildings as the LSE pulled out survivor after survivor. Rudy quietly joined them. In the end, everyone stood and surveyed the scene in vigil silence, as the flames consumed what was left of the fragile buildings. Soon enough, only charred remains of memories crumbled to ash and were blown away by the wind. The memories flew away.
When the people of Himmel Street began to walk back to their homes, Rudy and Liesel pulled away from the rest of the crowd. “That was really close.” “Too close.” “A kiss to celebrate?” “Shut up, Saukerl .” “Someday, Saumensch .” She laughed. He grinned.
Afterwards, Liesel would write about this incident. About Rudy. About the flying memories. About how, if Papa hadn’t woken her, and the planes overhead had just changed their target a little bit, she wouldn’t be alive. Then she would regret it.
best and worst day of her life. I hadn’t wanted to, but I had to commit and carry out my duty, as Nazis and citizens carried out theirs.
That evening, Liesel snuck out of her house with her finished book in hand, unknowingly for the last time.
THE PLANES
They knew the fruit fields and orchards were barren. None of the crops were particularly successful, and those that produced even the littlest amounts of food had to provide their produce to the army. Stealing from a passerby would be immoral. The mayor’s house was inconsiderable, as Ilsa Hermann’s understanding and kindness warded away any thoughts in Liesel’s mind of robbing them. There was no place left to steal.
Silence. They sat side by side at Amper River, both waiting for the other to speak, but only the water spoke its quiet, flowing language. Besides, there was not much to say.
A while later, they heard a barely audible droning overhead. “Shh, Liesel, listen. Please. Do you hear that?” Looking up, she searched the skies. Nothing. The buzzing continued.
✵ ✵ ✵ FACTS ABOUT THE BUZZING ✵ ✵ ✵ They were planes hidden from view by the forest, and
THE BOMBING OF HEAVEN
People typically describe shocking experiences occurring “as if time slowed down” and that their hearts “pounded like a stallion’s after a race.” For the book thief, it was the exact opposite. Everything went by too quickly. There was no siren. The planes placed themselves over the street, took aim, and dropped the bombs. There was a flash. A bang. Then there was a deathly silence.
THE ACCORDION
She sprinted. It wasn’t an instinct, nor was it something she necessarily had to do. She just sprinted. And she left The Book Thief behind. He sprinted after her. After collecting the poor victims’ souls, I went over to the Amper myself and sat for awhile, enjoying the lapping of water around my feet. Yes, Death has feet. I noticed the book blatantly sitting there, waiting to be picked up. So I plucked it off the ground and took it with me for safekeeping. I’ve read it many times since.
“Papa? Mama? Where are you?” She searched. She searched through the mounds of rubble that were once houses of friends, roads of recollection, and building blocks of her life. He searched too. Himmel Street was barely recognizable. The already impossibly run down houses had finally met their match, and every building collapsed into piles of building supplies and furniture. The fires had already started, but they were a minor issue; the more pressing
“Please, let me go. I have to get something.” “No.” “The accordion.” “No. Tell the LSE.” With that, he pulled her along to one of the workers. “Please. My papa’s accordion. It’s inside.” The worker went in and retrieved it. She held onto it tightly. Rudy picked up a piece of shrapnel. They left, hand in hand. They were homeless. They lost their families. But they had each other.
The LSE worker continued pulling out more bodies and putting out more fires. It wasn’t until much later when he thought of the little girl who asked for him to fetch an accordion. He thought it a strange request, but he knew people sometimes had queer needs after a bombing, so he had gotten it without question. He never knew why the little girl had asked for the accordion out of all of her family’s possessions, until he met me. I smiled a sad smile, and had told him, “For her papa, to keep on playing.”
THE MAYOR AND HIS WIFE
There was talk in Molching, Germany. Two neighborhoods, located right next to each other, have been bombed. Many of Molching’s citizens went to sleep thinking that they would be next.
The book thief and her accomplice wandered. They had nowhere to go, and nowhere to be. So they wandered.
People were looking for the two children who had escaped the bombing of Himmel Street. They found the children on the bridge overlooking the Amper River. The children were taken to the police station so a decision of what to do with them could be made.
The mayor and his wife were there.
Liesel and Rudy left with them.
MAX
The war finally ended. The Germans lost. Concentration camps were liberated, and celebrations were thrown. When Liesel tried looking for Max with Rudy and Mr. Steiner in Dachau, they were denied by the Americans. Dejectedly, they went back to what they now called “home.” A few days later, Alex Steiner opened up his tailor shop again. There was a limited amount of money to use, but that was bearable because they had each other. Liesel would always sit at the window, staring out, hoping that she would see feathers of hair. A week had gone by, and no one arrived. Liesel did not lose hope, but she knew that staring out the window for hours on end wouldn’t make that feather like hair appear. She began to aid the Steiners around the shop. Mr. Steiner often asked Liesel to find a certain cloth or pattern design from the mannequins. Once, when she was carrying out such a task, Mr. Steiner tapped on Liesel’s shoulder and told her that there was a man waiting for her. Slowly, she stepped out of the maze of mannequins, and looked at the man. No, not just “the man.” Max. With tears lining her eyes, she ran over to him for a tight embrace. “Max.”
“Liesel.” “I’ve missed you.” “I’ve missed you too.” The tears fell.
They clung to each other for ages, never wanting to let go, but all good things must come to an end. When they let go, Liesel introduced Max and the Steiners to each other. The men shook hands. Liesel’s tears continued to flow. One more mouth to feed. A little bit more of love.
