THE BOYS IN THE STRIPED PAJA

Bruno Remembers That He Used to Enjoy Exploration

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 than not because

the She was a Hopeless Case.

And he still wanted that he could go back home to Berlin, though 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

one writing.

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

she laughed hysterically and twirled her hair around her fingers, or

whispering alone in rooms with Mother.

The servants still came and washed things and swept things and cooked

things and clean things and served things and look things away and kept

their mouths shut without they were spoken to. Maria still spent the most of her

time tidying things away and making sure that any item of clothing is not

currently being born by Bruno was almost folded in his wardrobe. And Pavel

still arranged at the house every afternoon to peel the pots 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 speak to each other.)

But then things changed. Father decided it was time for the children to

return to their studies, and though it seems ridiculously serious to Bruno that school

should take place when there are 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

the school again. Herr Liszt was a mystery to Bruno.

Although he was friendly enough most of the time, never raising his hand

to him like his old teacher in Berlin had done, something in his eyes made

Bruno feel there was an angel 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?' bruno Asked.

'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 refers to Bruno as 'young man', like Pavel and like Lieutenant

Kotlin.)

'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 history of who you are, where you come from. Your family's

the heritage. The Fatherland's.'

Bruno frowned and considered it. He wasn't really sure that Father had

any land, 'cause along 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's. 'Not very much, ' he added finally. 'Although I know quite a bit about

the Middle Ages's. 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 are

come from's. About the great wrongs 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

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 - Keith. Most of them came about because he no longer had any

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 done

all the time back in Berlin, and that was exploring.

And that was in Berlin, where I knew everywhere and could find anything I

wanted with a blindfold. I've never really done anything exploring here.

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 anything 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. This was a terrible house for

explorations. If there was anything to do 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 and the wooden

telegraph poles and all the other things he had written to Grandmother about

in his most recent letter. And as sure as he had watched the people, all the

different types of people in their striped pyjamas, it had never really

occured to him to wonder what it was all about.

It was as if it were another city completely, the people all living and

working together side by side with the house where he lived. And were they

really so different? All the people in the camp were the same clothes

pyjamas and their striped cloth caps too; and all the people who were wanted

through his house (with the exception of Mother, Gretel and him)

uniforms of varying quality and decoration and caps and helmets with bright

red-and-black armbands and paid guns and always looked terribly stern,

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 win the striped pyjamas and which people win the

uniform?

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

attention when the soldiers approved and sometimes they fell to the

ground and sometimes they didn't even get up and had to be paid away

insteads.

It's funny that I've never wondered about these people, Bruno thought.

And it's funny that when you think of all the times the soldiers go over thereand he had even seen Father go over there on many occasions 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 downs 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 anything of the

striped pyjama people to dinner.

Leaving the house, Bruno went round the back and looked up towards

own bedroom window which, from down here, did not look quite so high any

more. You could potentially jump out of it and not do too much damage to

yourself, he considered, though he could not imagine the circumstances in

which he would try such an idiotic thing. If the house were on fire

and he was trapped in there, but even then it would seem risky.

He looked as far to his right as he could see, and the tall fence seen to

carry on in the sunlight and he was glad that it did because it meant that he

don'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 insight him about in their history lessons: men like Christopher

Columbus and Amerigo Vespucci; men with such adventurous stories

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

investigation 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...' 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 from taking a deep breath and beginning

his journey's. The one thing Bruno tried not to think about was that he had been

told on countless occurrences 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 especially that exploration was banned at Out With.

The No Exceptions.