“So that means he should be allowed to steal my potatoes?”
“The biggest one!” one of the women ejaculated.
“Keep quiet, Frau Metzing,” Mamer warned her, and she quickly settled down.
At first, all attention was on Rudy and the scruff of his neck. It then moved back and forth, from the boy to the potato to Mamer—from best-looking to worst—and exactly what made the grocer decide in Rudy’s favor would forever be unanswered.
Was it the pathetic nature of the boy?
The dignity of Herr Link?
The annoyance of Frau Metzing?
Whatever it was, Mamer dropped the potato back on the pile and dragged Rudy from his premises. He gave him a good push with his right boot and said, “Don’t come back.”
From outside, Rudy looked on as Mamer reached the counter to serve his next customer with food and sarcasm. “I wonder which potato you’re going to ask for,” he said, keeping one eye open for the boy.
For Rudy, it was yet another failure.
• • •
The second act of stupidity was equally dangerous, but for different reasons.
Rudy would finish this particular altercation with a black eye, cracked ribs, and a haircut.
Again, at the Hitler Youth meetings, Tommy Müller was having his problems, and Franz Deutscher was just waiting for Rudy to step in. It didn’t take long.
Rudy and Tommy were given another comprehensive drill session while the others went inside to learn tactics. As they ran in the cold, they could see the warm heads and shoulders through the windows. Even when they joined the rest of the group, the drills weren’t quite finished. As Rudy slumped into the corner and flicked mud from his sleeve at the window, Franz fired the Hitler Youth’s favorite question at him.
“When was our Führer, Adolf Hitler, born?”
Rudy looked up. “Sorry?”
The question was repeated, and the very stupid Rudy Steiner, who knew all too well that it was April 20, 1889, answered with the birth of Christ. He even threw in Bethlehem as an added piece of information.
Franz smeared his hands together.
A very bad sign.
He walked over to Rudy and ordered him back outside for some more laps of the field.
Rudy ran them alone, and after every lap, he was asked again the date of the Führer’s birthday. He did seve
n laps before he got it right.
The major trouble occurred a few days after the meeting.
On Munich Street, Rudy noticed Deutscher walking along the footpath with some friends and felt the need to throw a rock at him. You might well ask just what the hell he was thinking. The answer is, probably nothing at all. He’d probably say that he was exercising his God-given right to stupidity. Either that, or the very sight of Franz Deutscher gave him the urge to destroy himself.
The rock hit its mark on the spine, though not as hard as Rudy might have hoped. Franz Deutscher spun around and looked happy to find him standing there, with Liesel, Tommy, and Tommy’s little sister, Kristina.
“Let’s run,” Liesel urged him, but Rudy didn’t move.
“We’re not at Hitler Youth now,” he informed her. The older boys had already arrived. Liesel remained next to her friend, as did the twitching Tommy and the delicate Kristina.
“Mr. Steiner,” Franz declared, before picking him up and throwing him to the pavement.
When Rudy stood up, it served only to infuriate Deutscher even more. He brought him to the ground for a second time, following him down with a knee to the rib cage.