Марио Пьюзо – The Godfather / Крестный отец (страница 2)
Don Corleone had no desire of letting his youngest son be killed in the service. Doctors had been bribed, secret arrangements had been made, a great deal of money had been spent. But Michael was twenty-one years of age and nothing could be done against his own will. He became a Captain and won medals. In 1944, when his picture was printed in
When Michael Corleone was discharged early in 1945 because of his wound, he stayed home for a few weeks, then, without consulting anyone, entered Dartmouth College in New Hampshire, and so he left his father’s house.
Michael Corleone was amusing Kay Adams by telling her little stories about some of the more colorful wedding guests. Finally her attention was caught by a small group of men. The men were Amerigo Bonasera, Nazorine the Baker, Anthony Coppola and Luca Brasi. She noticed that these four men did not seem particularly happy. Michael smiled. “No, they’re not,” he said. “They’re waiting to see my father in private. They have favors to ask.[22]”
There were, now, hundreds of guests in the huge garden, some dancing on the wooden platform decorated with flowers, others sitting at long tables with spicy food and jugs of homemade wine. The bride, Connie Corleone, sat at a special raised table with her groom. It was a rustic setting[23] in the old Italian style. Not to the bride’s taste, but Connie had agreed to a “guinea[24]” wedding to please her father because she had so displeased him in her choice of a husband.
The groom, Carlo Rizzi, was born of a Sicilian father and the North Italian mother from whom he had inherited his blond hair and blue eyes. His parents lived in Nevada and Carlo had left that state because of a little trouble with the law. In New York he met Sonny Corleone and so met the sister. Don Corleone, of course, sent trusted friends to Nevada and they reported that Carlo’s police trouble was not serious. They also came back with detailed information on legal gambling in Nevada which greatly interested the Don who profited from everything.
Connie Corleone was a not quite pretty girl, thin and nervous and certain to become shrewish later in life. But today, transformed by her white bridal gown and eager virginity, she was so radiant as to be almost beautiful.
She thought Carlo incredibly handsome. He filled her glass with wine. He was courteous to her as if they were both actors in a play. But he kept looking toward the huge silk purse the bride wore on her right shoulder and which was now stuffed full of money envelopes. Carlo Rizzi smiled. It was only the beginning. He had, after all, married into a royal family. They would have to take care of him.[25]
Peter Clemenza was rotating young girls around the wooden dance floor in a rustic Tarantella. Immensely tall, immensely huge, he danced with such skill, his hard belly bumping the breasts of younger, tinier women, that all the guests were applauding him. When Clemenza finally collapsed in a chair, Paulie Gatto brought him a glass of icy wine and wiped the perspiring brow of his boss with his silk handkerchief[26]. But instead of thanking Paulie Clemenza said, “Do your job. Take a walk around the neighborhood and see everything is OK.”
The band took a refreshment break.[27] A young man named Nino Valenti picked up a mandolin, put his left foot up on a chair and began to sing a Sicilian love song. His face was handsome though bloated by continual drinking and he was already a little drunk. The women shrieked with joy and the men shouted the last word of each stanza with the singer.
Sonny Corleone made his way to the bride’s table and sat down beside young Lucy Mancini, the maid of honor.
They were safe. His wife was in the kitchen putting the last touches on the serving of the wedding cake. Sonny whispered a few words in the young girl’s ear and she rose. Sonny waited a few minutes and then casually followed her.
All eyes followed them. The maid of honor, Americanized by three years of college, was a ripe girl who already had a “reputation”. Now holding her pink gown up off the ground, Lucy Mancini went into the house, smiling with false innocence, ran lightly up the stairs to the bathroom. She stayed there for a few moments. When she came out Sonny Corleone was on the landing above, beckoning her upward.
From behind the closed window of Don Corleone’s “ofcif e”, Thomas Hagen watched the wedding party. The walls behind him were filled with law books. Hagen was the Don’s lawyer and acting
Hagen went directly out into the garden and pointed to the baker, Nazorine.
Don Corleone greeted the baker with an embrace. They had played together as children in Italy and had grown up in friendship. Every Easter freshly baked pies arrived at Don Corleone’s home. On Christmas, on family birthdays, rich creamy pastries showed the Nazorines’ respect. Now the time had come for the baker to ask for his rights as a loyal friend, and Don Corleone looked forward with great pleasure to meeting his request.
He gave the baker a Di Nobili cigar and a glass of yellow Strega[28] and put his hand on the man’s shoulder. He knew from bitter experience what courage it took to ask a favor from a fellow man.
The baker told the story of his daughter and Enzo. Only Godfather Corleone could help this loving couple. He was their last hope.
The Don walked Nazorine up and down the room, his hand on the baker’s shoulder, his head nodding with understanding to keep up the man’s courage. When the baker had finished, Don Corleone smiled at him and said, “My dear friend, put all your worries aside.” He went on to explain very carefully what must be done. The Congressman of the district must be petitioned. The Congressman would propose a special bill that would allow Enzo to become a citizen. The bill would surely pass Congress. Don Corleone explained that this would cost money. He, Don Corleone, would guarantee performance and accept payment. Did his friend agree?
The baker nodded his head. He did not expect such a great favor for nothing. That was understood. A special Act of Congress does not come cheap. Nazorine was almost tearful in his thanks.
The next man was a very simple case. His name was Anthony Coppola and he was the son of a man Don Corleone had worked with in his youth. Coppola needed five hundred dollars to open a pizzeria. For some reason, he couldn’t get credit. The Don reached into his pocket and took out a roll of bills. It was not quite enough. He grimaced and said to Tom Hagen, “Loan me a hundred dollars, I’ll pay you back Monday when I go to the bank.” The man protested that four hundred dollars would be enough, but Don Corleone patted his shoulder[29], saying, apologetically, “This wedding left me a little short of cash.” Hagen watched with admiration. How flattering to Anthony Coppola that a man like the Don would borrow to loan him money.
When Coppola had gone, the Don raised his head inquiringly. Hagen said, “He’s not on the list but Luca Brasi wants to see you. He understands it can’t be public but he wants to congratulate you in person.”
For the first time the Don seemed displeased. “Is it necessary?” he asked.
Hagen shrugged. “You understand him better than I do. But he was very grateful that you invited him to the wedding. He never expected that. I think he wants to show his gratitude.”
Don Corleone nodded and gestured that Luca Brasi should be brought to him.
Luca Brasi was one of the most feared men in the Eastern underworld. His great talent, it was said, was that he could do a job of murder all by himself and never be found by the police.
When Michael told Kay that story, for the first time Kay began to understand. She asked, “You’re not saying that a man like that works for your father?”
The hell with it[30], he thought. He said, straight out.[31]“Nearly fifteen years ago some people wanted to take over my father’s oil importing business. They tried to kill him and nearly did. Luca Brasi went after them. The story is that he killed six men in two weeks and that ended the famous olive oil war.” He smiled as if it were a joke.
“You mean your father was shot by gangsters?”
“Fifteen years ago,” Michael said. “Everything’s been peaceful since then.” He was afraid he had gone too far.
“You’re trying to scare me,” Kay said. “You just don’t want me to marry you.” She smiled at him. “Very clever.”