The Book Thief

THE ANARCHIST’S SUIT COLLECTION

35 HIMMEL STREET, DECEMBER 24

With the absence of two fathers,

the Steiners have invited Rosa

and Trudy Hubermann, and Liesel.

When they arrive, Rudy is still in

the process of explaining his

clothes. He looks at Liesel and his

mouth widens, but only slightly.

The days leading up to Christmas 1942 fell thick and heavy with snow. Liesel went through The Word Shaker many times, from the story itself to the many sketches and commentaries either side of it. On Christmas Eve, she made a decision about Rudy. To hell with being out too late.

She walked next door just before dark and told him she had a present for him, for Christmas.

Rudy looked at her hands and either side of her feet. ‘Well, where the hell is it?’

‘Forget it then.’

But Rudy knew. He’d seen her like this before. Risky eyes and sticky fingers. The breath of stealing was all around her and he could smell it. ‘This gift,’ he estimated. ‘You haven’t got it yet, have you?’

‘No.’

‘And you’re not buying it, either.’

‘Of course not. Do you think I have any money?’ Snow was still falling. At the edge of the grass, there was ice like broken glass. ‘Do you have the key?’ she asked.

‘The key to what?’ but it didn’t take Rudy long to understand. He made his way inside and returned not long after. In the words of Viktor Chemmel, he said, ‘It’s time to go shopping.’

The light was disappearing fast, and excepting the church, all of Munich Street had closed up for Christmas. Liesel walked hurriedly to remain in step with the lankier stride of her neighbour. They arrived at the designated shop window. STEINER – SCHNEIDERMEISTER. The glass wore a thin sheet of mud and grime that had blown onto it in the passing weeks. On the opposite side, the mannequins stood like witnesses. They were serious and ludicrously stylish. It was hard to shake the feeling that they were watching everything.

Rudy reached into his pocket.

It was Christmas Eve.

His father was near Vienna.

He didn’t think he’d mind if they trespassed in his beloved shop. The circumstances demanded it.

The door opened fluently and they made their way inside. Rudy’s first instinct was to hit the light switch, but the electricity had already been cut off.

‘Any candles?’

Rudy was dismayed. ‘I brought the key. And besides, this was your idea.’

In the middle of the exchange, Liesel tripped on a bump in the floor. A mannequin followed her down. It groped her arm and dismantled in its clothes on top of her. ‘Get this thing off me!’ It was in four pieces. The torso and head, the legs, and two separate arms. When she was rid of it, Liesel stood and wheezed. ‘Jesus, Mary.’

Rudy found one of the arms and tapped her on the shoulder with its hand. When she turned in fright, he extended it in friendship. ‘Nice to meet you.’

For a few minutes they moved slowly through the tight pathways of the shop. Rudy started towards the counter. When he fell over an empty box, he yelped and swore, then found his way back to the entrance. ‘This is ridiculous,’ he said. ‘Wait here a minute.’ Liesel sat, mannequin arm in hand, till he returned with a lit lantern from the church.

A ring of light circled his face.

‘So where’s this present you’ve been bragging about? It better not be one of these weird mannequins.’

‘Bring the light over.’

When he made it to the far left section of the shop, Liesel took the lantern with one hand and swept through the hanging suits with the other. She pulled one out but quickly replaced it with another. ‘No, still too big.’ After two more attempts, she held a navy-blue suit in front of Rudy Steiner. ‘Does this look about your size?’

While Liesel sat in the dark, Rudy tried on the suit behind one of the curtains. There was a small circle of light and the shadow dressing itself.

When he returned, he held out the lantern for Liesel to see. Freed from the curtain, the light was like a pillar, shining onto the refined suit. It also lit up the dirty shirt beneath, and Rudy’s battered shoes.

‘Well?’ he asked.

Liesel continued the examination. She moved around him and shrugged. ‘Not bad.’

‘Not bad! I look better than just not bad.’

‘The shoes let you down. And your face.’

Rudy placed the lantern on the counter and came towards her, in mock anger, and Liesel had to admit that a nervousness started gripping her. It was with both relief and disappointment that she watched him trip and fall on the disgraced mannequin.

On the floor, Rudy laughed.

Then he closed his eyes, clenching them hard.

Liesel rushed over.

She crouched above him.

Kiss him, Liesel, kiss him.

‘Are you all right, Rudy? Rudy?’

‘I miss him,’ said the boy, sideways, across the floor.

‘Frohe Weihnachten,’ Liesel replied. She helped him up, straightening the suit. ‘Merry Christmas.’