The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas

surprise.
    ‘What do you mean there are hundreds of children over there?’ asked Father. ‘What do you know of what goes on over there?’
    Bruno opened his mouth to speak but worried that he would get himself into trouble if he revealed too much. ‘I can see them from my bedroom window,’ he said finally. ‘They’re very far away of course, but it looks like there are hundreds. All wearing the striped pyjamas.’
    ‘The striped pyjamas, yes,’ said Father, nodding his head. ‘And you’ve been watching, have you?’
    ‘Well, I’ve seen them,’ said Bruno. ‘I’m not sure if that’s the same thing.’
    Father smiled. ‘Very good, Bruno,’ he said. ‘And you’re right, it’s not quite the same thing.’ He hesitated again and then nodded his head, as if he had made a final decision.
    ‘No, she’s right,’ he said, speaking out loud but not looking at either Gretel or Bruno. ‘She’s absolutely right. You’ve been here long enough as it is. It’s time for you to go home.’
    And so the decision was made. Word was sent ahead that the house should be cleaned, the windows washed, the banister varnished, the linen pressed, the beds made, and Father announced that Mother, Gretel and Bruno would be returning to Berlin within the week.
    Bruno found that he was not looking forward to this as much as he would have expected and he dreaded having to tell Shmuel the news.

Chapter Eighteen

Thinking Up the Final Adventure
    The day after Father told Bruno that he would be returning to Berlin soon, Shmuel didn’t arrive at the fence as usual. Nor did he show up the day after that. On the third day, when Bruno arrived there was no one sitting cross-legged on the ground and he waited for ten minutes and was about to turn back for home, extremely worried that he would have to leave Out-With without seeing his friend again, when a dot in the distance became a speck and that became a blob and that became a figure and that in turn became the boy in the striped pyjamas.
    Bruno broke into a smile when he saw the figure coming towards him and he sat down on the ground, taking the piece of bread and the apple he had smuggled with him out of his pocket to give to Shmuel. But even from a distance he could see that his friend looked even more unhappy than usual, and when he got to the fence he didn’t reach for the food with his usual eagerness.
    ‘I thought you weren’t coming any more,’ said Bruno. ‘I came yesterday and the day before that and you weren’t here.’
    ‘I’m sorry,’ said Shmuel. ‘Something happened.’
    Bruno looked at him and narrowed his eyes, trying to guess what it might be. He wondered whether Shmuel had been told that he was going home too; after all, coincidences like that do happen, such as the fact that Bruno and Shmuel shared the same birthday.
    ‘Well?’ asked Bruno. ‘What was it?’
    ‘Papa,’ said Shmuel. ‘We can’t find him.’
    ‘Can’t find him? That’s very odd. You mean he’s lost?’
    ‘I suppose so,’ said Shmuel. ‘He was here on Monday and then he went on work duty with some other men and none of them have come back.’
    ‘And hasn’t he written you a letter?’ asked Bruno. ‘Or left a note to say when he’ll be coming back?’
    ‘No,’ said Shmuel.
    ‘How odd,’ said Bruno. ‘Have you looked for him?’ he asked after a moment.
    ‘Of course I have,’ said Shmuel with a sigh. ‘I did what you’re always talking about. I did some exploration.’
    ‘And there was no sign?’
    ‘None.’
    ‘Well, that’s very strange,’ said Bruno. ‘But I think there must be a simple explanation.’
    ‘And what’s that?’ asked Shmuel.
    ‘I imagine the men were taken to work in another town and they have to stay there for a few days until the work is done. And the post isn’t very good here anyway. I expect he’ll turn up one day soon.’
    ‘I hope so,’ said Shmuel, who looked as if he was about to cry. ‘I don’t know what we’re supposed to do without him.’
    ‘I could ask Father if you wanted,’ said Bruno cautiously, hoping that Shmuel wouldn’t say yes.
    ‘I don’t think that would be a good idea,’ said Shmuel, which, to Bruno’s disappointment, was not a flat-out rejection of the offer.
    ‘Why not?’ he asked. ‘Father is very knowledgeable about life on that side of the fence.’
    ‘I don’t think the soldiers like us,’ said Shmuel. ‘Well,’ he added with something as close to a laugh as he could muster, ‘I