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Marie-Laure Leblanc walks down the stairs, counting the steps, and leads the boy to the first floor. She feels the bedrock shake; she smells the ash and soot; she hears the detonations across the river.
The book of birds that the boy- Werner- showed her, Marie-Laure knows not the importance of. Could I keep a page from this? he asked. She didn't care; she just wants to leave and find shelter. And her father, and her great-uncle.
Werner seems to be holding in a breath. Marie-Laure wonders about the man who came in the house before Werner. She doesn't know what this boy looks like, either. But she can tell that he is shivering. Her voice breaks the silence between them:
"Do you know why he was here? That man upstairs?"
It takes the boy a moment to respond. "Because of the radio?"
Marie isn't sure. "Maybe that's why."
Both of them are silent for some time, listening to the bombs explode in the distance. Marie-Laure wonders if he looks like a Nazi, or if he, too, is human. She breaks the silence yet again: "What do you look like?"
Silence for a beat.
"What?"
"You're small. But," she gestures to her own face, "what do you look like?"
Marie-Laure waits patiently for Werner to respond. Either his French is terrible, or he is simply shy.
"Uh... my hair, is white,"
"White," she repeats in disbelief.
"Blond. More pale blond. Very much."
Marie-Laure nods thoughtfully. "Are your eyes blue?"
Werner takes a second to respond, "Yes."
"I have freckles- do you have freckles?"
"I- no. Your freckles are lovely," Werner replies.
Marie-Laure doesn't know how to respond, so she doesn't.
She falls asleep.
Marie-Laure is awakened by a light pat on the shoulder. At first she wonders if her father is back; but no, the hand is too small to be his. It is the German boy, Werner.
They hurry out the door, Werner pulling some of Etienne's clothes over his German uniform.
Time passes. They walk about two blocks.
"It's so quiet," Marie-Laure comments. Werner does not respond. "Are they watching us?" she asks him.
"I don't know," he replies, "I don't think so."
They pass through the streets and when they approach the grotto- Hubert's grotto- she sets the wooden model of the house into the water. She asks if it's in the water- she knows it is, she feels the water against her fingers, but she asks just to make sure it's real. He confirms that it is. Her shoes are soaked, squelching along as she pushes Werner through the gate. She locks the gate behind them.
They rush back through the streets and Werner gives her something made of cloth- a pillowcase, she realizes.
"The street looks mostly clear. Keep the pillowcase high," he tells her. "Right out in front like this, do you understand?"
A million thoughts run through Marie-Laure's head. "They will shoot."
He assures her they will not.
"And you?" Where will he go?
"I will go in the other direction."
Marie-Laure turns toward his voice, directly in front of her. "Won't you come with me?" She hopes she is looking him in the eye.
"It will be better for you," he explains, "if no one sees you with me."
Marie reaches for his forearm, finds his elbow. "Speak only French. Keep your uniform hidden." Werner tenses at her touch. He heaves a great sigh.
Marie-Laure asks, "How will I find you again?"
Werner's arm moves; he crosses them and says, "I don't know."
Marie-Laure rests her hand against the wall and tilts her head. Come on.
Werner follows her.