Chapter Nine
Bruno Remembers That He Used to Enjoy Exploration
(page 95) Nothing changed for quite a while at Out-With.
Bruno still had to put up with Gretel being less than friendly to him
whenever she was in a bad mood, which was more often than not
because she was a Hopeless Case.
And he still wished that he could go back home to Berlin, although
the memories of that place were beginning to fade and, while he
did mean to, it had been several weeks since he had even thought
about sending another letter to Grandfather or Grandmother, let
alone actually sitting down and writing one.
The soldiers still came and went every day of the week, holding
meetings in Father's office, which was still Out Of Bounds At All
Times And No Exceptions. Lieutenant Kotler still strode around in
his black boots as if there was no one in the whole world of any
more importance than him, and when he wasn't with Father he
was standing in the driveway talking to Gretel while (page 96)
she laughed hysterically and twirled her hair around her ringers, or
whispering alone in rooms with Mother.
The servants still came and washed things and swept things and
cooked things and cleaned things and served things and took
things away and kept their mouths shut unless they were spoken
to. Maria still spent most of her time tidying things away and
making sure that any item of clothing not currently being worn by
Bruno was neatly folded in his wardrobe. And Pavel still arrived at
the house every afternoon to peel the potatoes and the carrots
and then put his white jacket on and serve at the dinner table.
(From time to time Bruno saw him throw a glance in the direction
of his knee, where a tiny scar from his swing-related accident was
in evidence, but other than that they never spoke to each other.)
But then things changed. Father decided it was time for the
children to return to their studies, and although it seemed
ridiculous to Bruno that school should take place when there were
only two students to teach, both Mother and Father agreed that a
tutor should come to the house every day and fill their mornings
and afternoons with lessons. A few mornings later a man called
Herr Liszt rattled up the driveway on his boneshaker and it was
time for school again. Herr Liszt was a mystery to Bruno. Although
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he was friendly enough most of the time, never (page 97) raising
his hand to him like his old teacher in Berlin had done, something
in his eyes made Bruno feel there was an anger inside him just
waiting to get out.
Herr Liszt was particularly fond of history and geography, while
Bruno preferred reading and art.
'Those things are useless to you,' insisted the teacher. 'A sound
understanding of the social sciences is far more important in this
day and age.'
'Grandmother always let us perform in plays back in Berlin,' Bruno
pointed out.
'Your grandmother was not your teacher though, was she?' asked
Herr Liszt. 'She was your grandmother. And here I am your
teacher, so you will study the things that I say are important and
not just the things you like yourself.'
'But aren't books important?' asked Bruno.
'Books about things that matter in the world, of course,' explained
Herr Liszt. 'But not storybooks. Not books about things that never
happened. How much do you know of your history anyway, young
man?' (To his credit, Herr Liszt referred to Bruno as 'young man',
like Pavel and unlike Lieutenant Kotler.)
'Well, I know I was born on April the fifteenth nineteen thirty-
four—' said Bruno.
'Not your history,' interrupted Herr Liszt. 'Not your own personal
history. I mean the (page 98) history of who you are, where you
come from. Your family's heritage. The Fatherland.'
Bruno frowned and considered it. He wasn't entirely sure that
Father had any land, because although the house in Berlin was a
large and comfortable house, there wasn't very much garden
space around it. And he was old enough to know that Out-With did
not belong to them, despite all the land there. 'Not very much,' he
admitted finally. 'Although I know quite a bit about the Middle
Ages. I like stories about knights and adventures and exploring.'
Herr Liszt made a hissing sound through his teeth and shook his
head angrily. 'Then this is what I am here to change,' he said in a
sinister voice. 'To get your head out of your storybooks and teach
you more about where you come from. About the great wrongs
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that have been done to you.'
Bruno nodded and felt quite pleased by this as he assumed that he
would finally be given an explanation for why they had all been
forced to leave their comfortable home and come to this terrible
place, which must have been the greatest wrong ever committed
to him in his short life.
Sitting alone in his room a few days later, Bruno started thinking
about all the things he liked to do at home that he hadn't been
able to do since he had come to Out-With. Most of them came
about because he no longer had any (page 99) friends to play
with, and it wasn't as if Gretel would ever play with him. But there
was one thing that he was able to do on his own and that he had
done all the time back in Berlin, and that was exploring.
'When I was a child,' Bruno said to himself, 'I used to enjoy
exploring. And that was in Berlin, where I knew everywhere and
could find anything I wanted with a blindfold on. I've never really
done any exploring here. Perhaps it's time to start.'
And then, before he could change his mind, Bruno jumped off his
bed and rummaged in his wardrobe for an overcoat and an old
pair of boots - the kind of clothes he thought a real explorer might
wear - and prepared to leave the house.
There was no point doing any exploring inside. After all, this
wasn't like the house in Berlin, which he could just about
remember had hundreds of nooks and crannies, and strange little
rooms, not to mention five floors if you counted the basement and
the little room at the top with the window he needed to stand on
tiptoes to see through. No, this was a terrible house for
exploration. If there was any to be done it would have to be done
outside.
For months now Bruno had been looking out of his bedroom
window at the garden and the bench with the plaque on it, the tall
fence (page 100) and the wooden telegraph poles and all the
other things he had written to Grandmother about in his most
recent letter. And as often as he had watched the people, all the
different kinds of people in their striped pyjamas, it had never
really occurred to him to wonder what it was all about.
It was as if it were another city entirely, the people all living and
working together side by side with the house where he lived. And
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were they really so different? All the people in the camp wore the
same clothes, those pyjamas and their striped cloth caps too; and
all the people who wandered through his house (with the
exception of Mother, Gretel and him) wore uniforms of varying
quality and decoration and caps and helmets with bright red-and-
black armbands and carried guns and always looked terribly stern,
as if it was all very important really and no one should think
otherwise.
What exactly was the difference? he wondered to himself. And
who decided which people wore the striped pyjamas and which
people wore the uniforms?
Of course sometimes the two groups mixed. He'd often seen the
people from his side of the fence on the other side of the fence,
and when he watched it was clear that they were in charge. The
pyjama people all jumped to attention whenever the soldiers
approached (page 101) and sometimes they fell to the ground
and sometimes they didn't even get up and had to be carried away
instead.
It's funny that I've never wondered about those people, Bruno
thought. And it's funny that when you think of all the times the
soldiers go over there - and he had even seen Father go over
there on many occasions - that none of them had ever been
invited back to the house.
Sometimes - not very often, but sometimes -a few of the soldiers
stayed to dinner, and when they did a lot of frothy drinks were
served and the moment Gretel and Bruno had put the last forkful
of food in their mouths they were sent away to their rooms and
then there was a lot of noise downstairs and some terrible singing
too. Father and Mother obviously enjoyed the company of the
soldiers - Bruno could tell that. But they'd never once invited any
of the striped pyjama people to dinner.
Leaving the house, Bruno went round the back and looked up
towards his own bedroom window which, from down here, did not
look quite so high any more. You could probably jump out of it and
not do too much damage to yourself, he considered, although he
couldn't imagine the circumstances in which he would try such an
idiotic thing. Perhaps if the house were on fire and he was trapped
in there, but even then it would seem risky.
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(page 102) He looked as far to his right as he could see, and the
tall fence seemed to carry on in the sunlight and he was glad that
it did because it meant that he didn't know what was up ahead
and he could walk and find out and that was what exploration was
all about after all. (There was one good thing that Herr Liszt had
taught him about in their history lessons: men like Christopher
Columbus and Amerigo Vespucci; men with such adventurous
stories and interesting lives that it only confirmed in Bruno's mind
that he wanted to be like them when he grew up.)
Before heading off in that direction, though, there was one final
thing to investigate and that was the bench. All these months he'd
been looking at it and staring at the plaque from a distance and
calling it 'the bench with the plaque', but he still had no idea what
it said. Looking left and right to make sure that no one was
coming, he ran over to it and squinted as he read the words. It
was only a small bronze plaque and Bruno read it quietly to
himself.
'Presented on the occasion of the opening of...' He hesitated. 'Out-
With Camp,' he continued, stumbling over the name as usual.
'June nineteen forty.'
He reached out and touched it for a moment, and the bronze was
very cold so he pulled his fingers away before taking a deep (page
103) breath and beginning his journey. The one thing Bruno tried
not to think about was that he had been told on countless
occasions by both Mother and Father that he was not allowed to
walk in this direction, that he was not allowed anywhere near the
fence or the camp, and most particularly that exploration was
banned at Out-With. With No Exceptions.
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