A book floated down the Amper River. 

     A boy jumped in, caught up to it, and held it in his right hand.  He 

grinned.

     He stood waist-deep in the icy, Decemberish water.

     "How about a kiss, Saumensch?" he said.

     The surrounding air was a lovely, gorgeous, nauseating cold, not

to mention the concrete ache of the water, thickening from his toes to his hips.

pg. 241

This is Peyton's visual for pg. 113

...flames and burning books were cheered like heroes.