"The Godfather" - читать интересную книгу автора (Mario Puzo)

Don Corleone turned his back. It was a dismissal. Bonasera did not budge.

Finally, sighing, a goodhearted man who cannot remain angry with an erring friend, Don Corleone turned back to the undertaker, who was now as pale as one of his corpses. Don Corleone was gentle, patient. тАЬWhy do you fear to give your first allegiance to me?тАЭ he said. тАЬYou go to the law courts and wait for months. You spend money on lawyers who know full well you are to be made a fool of. You accept judgment from a judge who sells himself like the worst whore in the streets. Years gone by, when you needed money, you went to the banks and paid ruinous interest, waited hat in hand like a beggar while they sniffed around, poked their noses up your very asshole to make sure you could pay them back.тАЭ The Don paused, his voice became sterner.

тАЬBut if you had come to me, my purse would have been yours. If you had come to me for justice those scum who ruined your daughter would be weeping bitter tears this day. If by some misfortune an honest man like yourself made enemies they would become my enemiesтАЭтАФthe Don raised his arm, finger pointing at BonaseraтАФтАЭand then, believe me, they would fear you.тАЭ

Bonasera bowed his head and murmured in a strangled voice, тАЬBe my friend. I accept.тАЭ

Don Corleone put his hand on the manтАЩs shoulderтАжGood,тАЭ he said, тАЬyou shall have your justice. Some day, and that day may never come, I will call upon you to do me a service in return. Until that day, consider this justice a gift from my wife, your daughterтАЩs godmother.тАЭ

When the door closed behind the grateful undertaker, Don Corleone turned to Hagen and said, тАЬGive this affair to Clemenza and tell him to be sure to use reliable people, people who will not be carried away by the smell of blood. After all, weтАЩre not murderers, no matter what that corpse valet dreams up in his foolish head.тАЭ He noted that his firstborn, masculine son was gazing through the window at the garden party. It was hopeless, Don Corleone thought. If he refused to be instructed, Santino could never run the family business, could never become a Don. He would have to find somebody else. And soon. After all, he was not immortal.

From the garden, startling all three men, there came a happy roaring shout. Sonny Corleone pressed close to the window. What he saw made him move quickly toward the door, a delighted smile on his face. тАЬItтАЩs Johnny, he came to the wedding, what did I tell you?тАЭ Hagen moved to the window. тАЬItтАЩs really your godson,тАЭ he said to Don Corleone. тАЬShall I bring him here?тАЭ

тАЬNo,тАЭ the Don said. тАЬLet the people enjoy him. Let him come to me when he is ready.тАЭ He smiled at Hagen. тАЬYou see? He is a good godson.тАЭ

Hagen felt a twinge of jealousy. He said dryly, тАЬItтАЩs been two years. HeтАЩs probably in trouble again and wants you to help.тАЭ

тАЬAnd who should he come to if not his godfather?тАЭ asked Don Corleone.



The first one to see Johnny Fontane enter the garden was Connie Corleone. She forgot her bridal dignity and screamed, тАЬJohneee.тАЭ Then she ran into his arms. He hugged her tight and kissed her on the mouth, kept his arm around her as others came up to greet him. They were all his old friends, people he had grown up with on the West Side. Then Connie was dragging him to her new husband. Johnny saw with amusement that the blond young man looked a little sour at no longer being the star of the day. He turned on all his charm, shaking the groomтАЩs hand, toasting him with a glass of wine.

A familiar voice called from the bandstand, тАЬHow about giving us a song, Johnny?тАЭ He looked up and saw Nino Valenti smiling down at him. Johnny Fontane jumped up on the bandstand and threw his arms around Nino. They had been inseparable, singing together, going out with girls together, until Johnny had started to become famous and sing on the radio. When he had gone to Hollywood to make movies Johnny had phoned Nino a couple of times just to talk and had promised to get him a club singing date. But he had never done so. Seeing Nino now, his cheerful, mocking, drunken grin, all the affection returned.

Nino began strumming on the mandolin. Johnny Fontane put his hand on NinoтАЩs shoulder. тАЬThis is for the bride,тАЭ he said, and stamping his foot, chanted the words to an obscene Sicilian love song. As he sang, Nino made suggestive motions with his body. The bride blushed proudly, the throng of guests roared its approval. Before the song ended they were all stamping with their feet and roaring out the sly, double-meaning tag line that finished each stanza. At the end they would not stop applauding until Johnny cleared his throat to sing another song.

They were all proud of him. He was of them and he had become a famous singer, a movie star who slept with the most desired women in the world. And yet he had shown proper respect for his Godfather by traveling three thousand miles to attend this wedding. He still loved old friends like Nino Valenti. Many of the people there had seen Johnny and Nino singing together when they were just boys, when no one dreamed that Johnny Fontane would grow up to hold the hearts of fifty million women in his hands.

Johnny Fontane reached down and lifted the bride up onto the bandstand so that Connie stood between him and Nino. Both men crouched down, facing each other, Nino plucking the mandolin for a few harsh chords. It was an old routine of theirs, a mock battle and wooing, using their voices like swords, each shouting a chorus in turn. With the most delicate courtesy, Johnny let NinoтАЩs voice overwhelm his own, let Nino take the bride from his arm, let Nino swing into the last victorious stanza while his own voice died away. The whole wedding party broke into shouts of applause, the three of them embraced each other at the end. The guests begged for another song.

Only Don Corleone, standing in the comer entrance of the house, sensed something amiss. Cheerily, with bluff good humor, careful not to give offense to his guests, he called out, тАЬMy godson has come three thousand miles to do us honor and no one thinks to wet his throat?тАЭ At once a dozen full wineglasses were thrust at Johnny Fontane. He took a sip from all and rushed to embrace his Godfather. As he did so he whispered something into the older manтАЩs ear. Don Corleone led him into the house.

Tom Hagen held out his hand when Johnny came into the room. Johnny shook it and said, тАЬHow are you, Tom?тАЭ But without his usual charm that consisted of a genuine warmth for people. Hagen was a little hurt by this coolness but shrugged it off. It was one of the penalties for being the DonтАЩs hatchet man.

Johnny Fontane said to the Don, тАЬWhen I got the wedding invitation I said to myself, тАШMy Godfather isnтАЩt mad at me anymore.тАЩ I called you five times after my divorce and Tom always told me you were out or busy so I knew you were sore.тАЭ

Don Corleone was filling glasses from the yellow bottle of Strega. тАЬThatтАЩs all forgotten. Now. Can I do something for you still? YouтАЩre not too famous, too rich, that I canтАЩt help you?тАЭ

Johnny gulped down the yellow fiery liquid and held out his glass to be refilled. He tried to sound jaunty. тАЬIтАЩm not rich, Godfather. IтАЩm going down. You were right. I should never have left my wife and kids for that tramp I married. I donтАЩt blame you for getting sore at me.тАЭ

The Don shrugged. тАЬI worried about you, youтАЩre my godson, thatтАЩs all.тАЭ

Johnny paced up and down the room. тАЬI was crazy about that bitch. The biggest star in Hollywood. She looks like an angel. And you know what she does after a picture? If the makeup man does a good job on her face, she lets him bang her. If the cameraman made her look extra good, she brings him into her dressing room and gives him a screw. Anybody. She uses her body like I use the loose change in my pocket for a tip. A whore made for the devil.тАЭ

Don Corleone curtly broke in. тАЬHow is your family?тАЭ

Johnny sighed. тАЬI took care of them. After the divorce I gave Ginny and the kids more than the courts said I should. I go see them once a week. I miss them. Sometimes I think IтАЩm going crazy.тАЭ He took another drink. тАЬNow my second wife laughs at me. She canтАЩt understand my being jealous. She calls me an old-fashioned guinea, she makes fun of my singing. Before I left I gave her a nice beating but not in the face because she was making a picture. I gave her cramps, I punched her on the arms and legs like a kid and she kept laughing at me.тАЭ He lit a cigarette. тАЬSo, Godfather, right now, life doesnтАЩt seem worth living.тАЭ