The Book Thief

THE LOSERS

When it came to stealing, Liesel and Rudy first stuck with the idea that there was safety in numbers. Andy Schmeikl invited them to the river, for a meeting. Amongst other things, a game plan for fruit stealing would be on the agenda.

‘So are you the leader now?’ Rudy had asked, but Andy shook his head, heavy with disappointment. He clearly wished that he had what it took.

‘No.’ His cool voice was unusually warm. Half-baked. ‘There’s someone else.’

THE NEW ARTHUR BERG

Unlike most people engaged in the various arts of thievery, Viktor Chemmel had it all. He lived in the best part of Molching, high up in a villa which had been fumigated when the Jews were driven out. He had money. He had cigarettes. What he wanted, however, was more.

‘No crime in wanting a little more,’ he claimed, lying back in the grass with a collection of boys assembled around him. ‘Wanting more is our fundamental right as Germans. What does our Führer say?’ He answered his own rhetoric. ‘We must take what is rightfully ours!’

At face value, Viktor Chemmel was clearly your stock-standard teenage bullshit artist. Unfortunately, when he felt like revealing it, he also possessed a certain charisma, a kind of ‘follow me’.

When Liesel and Rudy approached the group by the river, she heard him ask another question. ‘So where are these two deviates you’ve been bragging about? It’s ten past four already.’

‘Not by my watch,’ said Rudy.

Viktor Chemmel propped himself up on an elbow. ‘You’re not wearing a watch.’

‘Would I be here if I was rich enough to own a watch?’

The new leader sat up fully and smiled, with straight, white teeth. He then turned his casual focus onto the girl. ‘Who’s the little whore?’ Liesel, well-accustomed to verbal abuse, simply watched the fog-ridden texture of his eyes.

‘Last year,’ she listed, ‘I stole at least three hundred apples and dozens of potatoes. I have little trouble with barbed wire fences and I can keep up with anyone here.’

‘Is that right?’

‘Yes.’ She did not shrink or step away. ‘All I ask is a small part of anything we take. A dozen apples here or there. A few leftovers for me and my friend.’

‘Well I suppose that can be arranged.’ Viktor lit a cigarette and raised it to his mouth. He made a concerted effort to blow his next mouthful in Liesel’s face.

Liesel did not cough.

It was the same group as the previous year, the only exception being the leader. Liesel wondered why none of the other boys had assumed the helm, but looking from face to face, she realised that none of them had it. They had no qualms about stealing, but they needed to be told. They liked to be told, and Viktor Chemmel liked to be the teller. It was a nice microcosm.

For a moment, Liesel longed for the reappearance of Arthur Berg. Or would he too have fallen under the leadership of Chemmel? It didn’t matter. Liesel only knew that Arthur Berg did not have a tyrannical bone in his body, whereas the new leader had hundreds of them. Last year, she knew that if she was stuck in a tree, Arthur would come back for her, despite claiming otherwise. This year, by comparison, she was instantly aware that Viktor Chemmel wouldn’t even bother to look back.

He stood, regarding the lanky boy and the malnourished-looking girl. ‘So you want to steal with me?’

What did they have to lose? They nodded.

He stepped closer and grabbed Rudy’s hair. ‘I want to hear it.’

‘Definitely,’ Rudy said, before being shoved back, fringe-first.

‘And you?’

‘Of course.’ Liesel was quick enough to avoid the same treatment.

Viktor smiled. He squashed his cigarette, breathed deeply in and scratched his chest. ‘My gentlemen, my whore, it looks like it’s time to go shopping.’

As the group walked off, Liesel and Rudy were at the back, as they’d always been in the past.

‘Do you like him?’ Rudy whispered.

‘Do you?’

Rudy paused a moment. ‘I think he’s a complete bastard.’

‘Me too.’

The group was getting away from them.

‘Come on,’ Rudy said, ‘we’ve fallen behind.’

After a few miles, they reached the first farm. What greeted them was a shock. The trees they’d imagined to be swollen with fruit were frail and injured-looking, with only a small array of apples hanging miserly from each branch. The next farm was the same. Maybe it was a bad season, or their timing wasn’t quite right.

By the end of the afternoon, when the spoils were handed out, Liesel and Rudy were given one diminutive apple between them. In fairness, the takings were incredibly poor, but Viktor Chemmel also ran a tighter ship.

‘What do you call this?’ Rudy asked, the apple resting in his palm.

Viktor didn’t even turn round. ‘What does it look like?’ The words were dropped over his shoulder.

‘One lousy apple?’

‘Here.’ A half-eaten one was also tossed their way, landing chewed-side down in the dirt. ‘You can have that one, too.’

Rudy was incensed. ‘To hell with this. We didn’t walk ten miles for one and a half scrawny apples, did we, Liesel?’

Liesel did not answer.

She did not have time, for Viktor Chemmel was on top of Rudy before she could utter a word. His knees had pinned Rudy’s arms and his hands were around his throat. The apples were scooped up by none other than Andy Schmeikl, at Viktor’s request.

‘You’re hurting him,’ Liesel said.

‘Am I?’ Viktor was smiling again. She hated that smile.

‘He’s not hurting me.’ Rudy’s words were rushed together and his face was red with strain. His nose began to bleed.

After an extended moment of increased pressure, Viktor let Rudy go and climbed off him, taking a few careless steps. He said, ‘Get up, boy,’ and Rudy, choosing wisely, did as he was told.

Viktor came casually closer again and faced him. He gave him a gentle rub on the arm and a grin. A whisper. ‘Unless you want me to turn that blood into a fountain, I suggest you go away, little boy.’ He looked at Liesel. ‘And take the little slut with you.’

No-one moved.

‘Well, what are you waiting for?’

Liesel took Rudy’s hand and they left, but not before Rudy turned one last time and spat some blood and saliva at Viktor Chemmel’s feet. It evoked one final remark.

A SMALL THREAT FROM VIKTOR CHEMMEL TO RUDY STEINER

Say what you will about Viktor Chemmel, but he certainly had patience and a good memory. It took him approximately five months to turn his statement into a true one.