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hair. Oh, Christ, he thought, pretty soon they'll be all grown up, Hollywood punks will be
out after them.
He shared his toast and bacon with them as he ate, gave them sips of coffee. It was a
habit left over from when he had been singing with the band and rarely ate with them so
they liked to share his food when he had his odd-hour meals like afternoon breakfasts
or morning suppers. The change-around in food delighted them – to eat steak and
french fries (картофель фри, чипсы) at seven in the morning, bacon and eggs in the
afternoon.
Only Ginny and a few of his close friends knew how much he idolized his daughters.
That had been the worst thing about the divorce and leaving home. The one thing he
had fought about, and for, was his position as a father to them. In a very sly way he had
made Ginny understand he would not be pleased by her remarrying, not because he
was jealous of her, but because he was jealous of his position as a father. He had
arranged the money to be paid to her so it would be enormously to her advantage
financially not to remarry. It was understood that she could have lovers as long as they
were not introduced into her home life. But on this score he had absolute faith in her.
She had always been amazingly shy and old-fashioned in sex. The Hollywood gigolos
had batted zero (выбивали ноль = ничего не могли добиться; bat – бита /в
бейсболе/) when they started swarming around her, sniffing for the financial settlement
and the favors they could get from her famous husband.
He had no fear that she expected a reconciliation because he had wanted to sleep
with her the night before. Neither one of them wanted to renew their old marriage. She
understood his hunger for beauty, his irresistible impulse toward young women far more
beautiful than she. It was known that he always slept with his movie co-stars at least
once. His boyish charm was irresistible to them, as their beauty was to him.
"You'll have to start getting dressed pretty soon," Ginny said. "Tom's plane will be
getting in." She shooed the daughters out of the room.
"Yeah," Johnny said. "By the way, Ginny, you know I'm getting divorced? I'm gonna
be a free man again."
She watched him getting dressed. He always kept fresh clothes at her house ever
since they had come to their new arrangement after the wedding of Don Corleone's
daughter. "Christmas is only two weeks away," she said. "Shall I plan on you being
here?"
It was the first time he had even thought about the holidays. When his voice was in
shape, holidays were lucrative singing dates but even then Christmas was sacred. If he
missed this one, it would be the second one. Last year he had been courting his second
wife in Spain, trying to get her to marry him.
"Yeah," he said. "Christmas Eve and Christmas." He didn't mention New Year's Eve.
That would be one of the wild nights he needed every once in a while, to get drunk with
his friends, and he didn't want a wife along then. He didn't feel guilty about it.
She helped him put on his jacket and brushed it off. He was always fastidiously
(fastidious [f∂s’tıdıj∂s] – привередливо, разборчиво, изощренно) neat. She could see
him frowning because the shirt he had put on was not laundered (to launder ['lo:nd∂] –
стирать и гладить /белье/) to his taste, the cuff links (запонки; cuff – манжета), a pair
he had not worn for some time, were a little too loud for the way he liked to dress now.
She laughed softly and said, "Tom won't notice the difference."
The three women of the family walked him to the door and out on the driveway to his
car. The two little girls held his hands, one on each side. His wife walked a little behind
him. She was getting pleasure out of how happy he looked. When he reached his car he
turned around and swung each girl in turn high up in the air and kissed her on the way
down. Then he kissed his wife and got into the car. He never liked drawn-out good-byes.
Arrangements had been made by his PR (public relations – связь с
общественностью) man and aide. At his house a chauffeured car was waiting, a rented
car. In it were the PR man and another member of his entourage. Johnny parked his car
and hopped in and they were on their way to the airport. He waited inside the car while
the PR man went out to meet Tom Hagen's plane. When Tom got into the car they
shook hands and drove back to his house.
Finally he and Tom were alone in the living room. There was a coolness between
them. Johnny had never forgiven Hagen for acting as a barrier to his getting in touch
with the Don when the Don was angry with him, in those bad days before Connie's
wedding. Hagen never made excuses for his actions. He could not. It was part of his job
to act as a lightning rod for resentments which people were too awed to feel toward the
Don himself though he had earned them.
"Your Godfather sent me out here to give you a hand (помочь) on some things,"
Hagen said. "I wanted to get it out of the way before Christmas."
Johnny Fontane shrugged. "The picture is finished. The director was a square guy
and treated me right. My scenes are too important to be left on the cutting-room floor
just for Woltz to pay me off. He can't ruin a ten-million-dollar picture. So now everything
depends on how good people think I am in the movie."
Hagen said cautiously, "Is winning this Academy Award so terribly important to an
actor's career, or is it just the usual publicity crap that really doesn't mean anything one
way or the other?" He paused and added hastily, "Except of course the glory, everybody
likes glory."
Johnny Fontane grinned at him. "Except my Godfather. And you. No, Tom, it's not a
lot of crap. An Academy Award can make an actor for ten years. He can get his pick
(выбор; лучшая, отборная часть /чего-либо/) of roles. The public goes to see him. It's
not everything, but for an actor it's the most important thing in the business. I'm counting
on winning it. Not because I'm such a great actor but because I'm known primarily as a
singer and the part is foolproof («защищенный от дурака» = элементарный в
обращении; надежный /без риска неудачи/). And I'm pretty good too, no kidding."
Tom Hagen shrugged and said, "Your Godfather tells me that the way things stand
now, you don't have a chance of winning the award."
Johnny Fontane was angry. "What the hell are you talking about? The picture hasn't
even been cut yet, much less shown. And the Don isn't even in the movie business.
Why the hell did you fly the three thousand miles just to tell me that shit?" He was so
shaken he was almost in tears.
Hagen said worriedly, "Johnny, I don't know a damn thing about all this movie stuff.
Remember, I'm just a messenger boy for the Don. But we have discussed this whole
business of yours many times. He worries about you, about your future. He feels you
still need his help and he wants to settle your problem once and for all. That's why I'm
here now, to get things rolling. But you have to start growing up, Johnny. You have to
stop thinking about yourself as a singer or an actor. You've got to start thinking about
yourself as a prime mover (первичный двигатель; буксир, тягач), as a guy with
muscle."
Johnny Fontane laughed and filled his glass. "If I don't win that Oscar I'll have as
much muscle as one of my daughters. My voice is gone; if I had that back I could make
some moves. Oh, hell. How does my Godfather know I won't win it? OK, I believe he
knows. He's never been wrong."
Hagen lit a thin cigar. "We got the word that Jack Woltz won't spend studio money to
support your candidacy. In fact he's sent the word out to everybody who votes that he
does not want you to win. But holding back the money for ads (ad – сокр. от
advertisment – реклама) and all that may do it. He's also arranging to have one other
guy get as much of the opposition votes as he can swing. He's using all sorts of bribes-
jobs, money, broads, everything. And he's trying to do it without hurting the picture or
hurting it as little as possible."
Johnny Fontane shrugged. He filled his glass with whiskey and downed it. "Then I'm
dead."
Hagen was watching him with his mouth curled up with distaste. "Drinking won't help
your voice," he said.
"Fuck you," Johnny said.
Hagen's face suddenly became smoothly impassive. Then he said, "OK, I'll keep this
purely business."
Johnny Fontane put his drink down and went over to stand in front of Hagen. "I'm
sorry I said that, Tom," he said. "Christ, I'm sorry. I'm taking it out on you because I
wanta kill that bastard Jack Woltz and I'm afraid to tell off (отчитывать, бранить,
разносить) my Godfather. So I get sore at you." There were tears in his eyes. He threw
the empty whiskey glass against the wall but so weakly that the heavy shot glass did not
even shatter and rolled along the floor back to him so that he looked down at it in baffled
(озадаченный, сбитый с толку) fury. Then he laughed. "Jesus Christ," he said.
He walked over to the other side of the room and sat opposite Hagen. "You know, I had
everything my own way for a long time. Then I divorced Ginny and everything started
going sour. I lost my voice. My records stopped selling. I didn't get any more movie work.
And then my Godfather got sore at me and wouldn't talk to me on the phone or see me
when I came into New York. You were always the guy barring the path and I blamed
you, but I knew you wouldn't do it without orders from the Don. But you can't get sore at
him. It's like getting sore at God. So I curse you. But you've been right all along the line.
And to show you I mean my apology I'm taking your advice. No more booze until I get
my voice back. OK?"
The apology was sincere. Hagen forgot his anger. There must be something to this
thirty-five-year-old boy or the Don would not be so fond of him. He said, "Forget it,
Johnny." He was embarrassed at the depth of Johnny's feeling and embarrassed by the
suspicion that it might have been inspired by fear, fear that he might turn the Don
against him. And of course the Don could never be turned by anyone for any reason.
His affection was mutable only by himself.
"Things aren't so bad," he told Johnny. "The Don says he can cancel out everything
Woltz does against you. That you will almost certainly win the Award. But he feels that
won't solve your problem. He wants to know if you have the brains and balls to become
a producer on your own, make your own movies from top to bottom."
"How the hell is he going to get me the Award?" Johnny asked incredulously.
Hagen said sharply, "How do you find it so easy to believe that Woltz can finagle
(добиваться чего-либо нечестными или обходными путями, жульничать [fı'neıgl]) it
and your Godfather can't? Now since it's necessary to get your faith for the other part of
our deal I must tell you this. Just keep it to yourself. Your Godfather is a much more
powerful man than Jack Woltz. And he is much more powerful in areas far more critical.
How can he swing the Award? He controls, or controls the people who control, all the
labor unions in the industry, all the people or nearly all the people who vote. Of course
you have to be good, you have to be in contention (конкуренция; спор) on your own
merits. And your Godfather has more brains than Jack Woltz. He doesn't go up to these
people and put a gun to their heads and say, 'Vote for Johnny Fontane or you are out of
a job.' He doesn't strong-man where strong-arm doesn't work or leaves too many hard
feelings. He'll make those people vote for you because they want to. But they won't
want to unless he takes an interest. Now just take my word for it that he can get you the
Award. And that if he doesn't do it, you won't get it."
"OK," Johnny said. "I believe you. And I have the balls and brains to be a producer but
I don't have the money. No bank would finance me. It takes millions to support a movie."
Hagen said dryly, "When you get the Award, start making plans to produce three of
your own movies. Hire the best people in the business, the best technicians, the best
stars, whoever you need. Plan on three to five movies."
"You're crazy," Johnny said. "That many movies could mean twenty million bucks."
"When you need the money," Hagen said, "get in touch with me. I'll give you the name
of the bank out here in California to ask for financing. Don't worry, they finance movies
all the time. Just ask them for the money in the ordinary way, with the proper
justifications, like a regular business deal. They will approve. But first you have to see
me and tell me the figures and the plans. OK?"
Johnny was silent for a long time. Then he said quietly, "Is there anything else?"
Hagen smiled. "You mean, do you have to do any favors in return for a loan of twenty
million dollars? Sure you will." He waited for Johnny to say something. "Nothing you
wouldn't do anyway if the Don asked you to do it for him."
Johnny said, "The Don has to ask me himself if it's something serious, you know what
I mean? I won't take your word or Sonny's for it."
Hagen was surprised by this good sense. Fontane had some brains after all. He had
sense to know that the Don was too fond of him, and too smart, to ask him to do
something foolishly dangerous, whereas Sonny might. He said to Johnny, "Let me
reassure you on one thing. Your Godfather has given me and Sonny strict instructions
not to involve you in any way in anything that might get you bad publicity through our
fault. And he will never do that himself. I guarantee you that any favor he asks of you,
you will offer to do before he requests it. OK?"
Johnny smiled. "OK," he said.
Hagen said, "Also he has faith in you. He thinks you have brains and so he figures the
bank will make money on the investment, which means he will make money on it. So it's
really a business deal, never forget that. Don't go screwing around with the money. You
may be his favorite godson but twenty million bucks is a lot of dough. He has to stick his
neck out to make sure you get it."
"Tell him not to worry," Johnny said. "If a guy like Jack Woltz can be a big movie
genius, anybody can."
"That's what your Godfather figures," Hagen said. "Can you have me driven back to
the airport? I've said all I have to say. When you do start signing contracts for
everything, hire your own lawyers, I won't be in on it. But I'd like to see everything
before you sign, if that's OK with you. Also, you'll never have any labor troubles. That
will cut costs on your pictures to some extent, so when the accountants lump (lump –
глыба, кусок; to lump – смешивать, валить в одну кучу) some of that in, disregard
those figures."
Johnny said cautiously, "Do I have to get your OK on anything else, scripts, stars, any
of that?"
Hagen shook his head. "No," he said. "It may happen that the Don would object to
something but he'll object to you direct if he does. But I can't imagine what that would be.
16
Movies don't affect him at all, in any way, so he has no interest. And he doesn't believe
in meddling, that I can tell you from experience."
"Good," Johnny said. "I'll drive you to the airport myself. And thank the Godfather for
me. I'd call him up and thank him but he never comes to the phone. Why is that, by the
way?"
Hagen shrugged. "He hardly ever talks on the phone. He doesn't want his voice
recorded, even saying something perfectly innocent. He's afraid that they can splice
(соединять внахлест, сращивать /концы чего-либо/ /строит./; склеивать встык
/ленту, пленку/) the words together so that it sounds as if he says something else. I
think that's what it is. Anyway his only worry is that someday he'll be framed (to frame –
фабриковать, подставлять, ложно обвинять) by the authorities. So he doesn't want to
give them an edge (дать им себя подцепить, дать им карты в руки; edge – кромка,
край)."
They got into Johnny's car and drove to the airport. Hagen was thinking that Johnny
was a better guy than he figured. He'd already learned something, just his driving him
personally to the airport proved that. The personal courtesy, something the Don himself
always believed in. And the apology. That had been sincere. He had known Johnny a
long time and he knew the apology would never be made out of fear. Johnny had
always had guts. That's why he had always been in trouble, with his movie bosses and
with his women. He was also one of the few people who was not afraid of the Don.
Fontane and Michael were maybe the only two men Hagen knew of whom this could be
said. So the apology was sincere, he would accept it as such. He and Johnny would
have to see a lot of each other in the next few years. And Johnny would have to pass
the next test, which would prove how smart he was. He would have to do something for
the Don that the Don would never ask him to do or insist that he do as part of the
agreement. Hagen wondered if Johnny Fontane was smart enough to figure out that
part of the bargain.
After Johnny dropped Hagen off at the airport (Hagen insisted that Johnny not hang
around for his plane with him) he drove back to Ginny's house. She was surprised to
see him. But he wanted to stay at her place so that he would have time to think things
out, to make his plans. He knew that what Hagen had told him was extremely important,
that his whole life was being changed. He had once been a big star but now at the
young age of thirty-five he was washed up. He didn't kid himself about that. Even if he
won the Award as best actor, what the hell could it mean at the most? Nothing, if his
17
voice didn't come back. He'd be just second-rate, with no real power, no real juice. Even
that girl turning him down, she had been nice and smart and acting sort of hip (также
hep – знающий толк в чем-то, секущий; классный, стильный /сленг/), but would she
have been so cool if he had really been at the top? Now with the Don backing him with
dough he could be as big as anybody in Hollywood. He could be a king. Johnny smiled.
Hell. He could even be a Don.
It would be nice living with Ginny again for a few weeks, maybe longer. He'd take the
kids out every day, maybe have a few friends over. He'd stop drinking and smoking,
really take care of himself. Maybe his voice would get strong again. If that happened
and with the Don's money, he'd be unbeatable. He'd really be as close to an oldtime
king or emperor as it was possible to be in America. And it wouldn't depend on his voice
holding up or how long the public cared about him as an actor. It would be an empire
rooted in money and the most special, the most coveted kind of power.
Ginny had the guest bedroom made up for him. It was understood that he would not
share her room, that they would not live as man and wife. They could never have that
relationship again. And though the outside world of gossip columnists (корреспондент,
обозреватель /ведущий постоянную рубрику/) and movie fans gave the blame for the
failure of their marriage solely to him, yet in a curious way, between the two of them,
they both knew that she was even more to blame for their divorce.
When Johnny Fontane became the most popular singer and movie musical comedy
star in motion pictures, it had never occurred to him to desert his wife and children. He
was too Italian, still too old-style. Naturally he had been unfaithful. That had been
impossible to avoid in his business and the temptations to which he was continually
exposed. And despite being a skinny, delicate-looking guy, he had the wiry horniness
(horny – сексуально возбужденный, сексульно озабоченный) of many small-boned
Latin types. And women delighted him in their surprises. He loved going out with a
demure (спокойный, сдержанный, трезвый, рассудительный, притворно
застенчивый [dı'mju∂]) sweet-faced virginal-looking girl and then uncapping her breasts
to find them so unexpectedly slopingly (sloping – косой, покатый) full and rich, lewdly
(lewd – похотливый; распутный) heavy in contrast to the cameo face. He loved to find
sexual shyness and timidity in the sexy-looking girls who were all fake (поддельный,
фальшивый) motion like a shifty basketball player, vamping (to vamp – завлекать,
соблазнять) as if they had slept with a hundred guys, and then when he got them alone
having to battle for hours to get in and do the job and finding out they were virgins.
18
And all these Hollywood guys laughed at his fondness for virgins. They called it an old
guinea taste, square, and look how long it took to make a virgin give you a blow job
(феллация) with all the aggravation and then they usually turned out to be a lousy
piece of ass. But Johnny knew that it was how you handled a young girl. You had to
come on to her the right way and then what could be greater than a girl who was tasting
her first dick and loving it? Ab, it was so great breaking them in. It was so great having
them wrap their legs around you. Their thighs were all different shapes, their asses
were different, their skins were all different colors and shades of white and brown and
tan and when he had slept with that young colored girl in Detroit, a good girl, not a
hustler, the young daughter of a jazz singer on the same nightclub bill with him, she had
been one of the sweetest things he had ever had. Her lips had really tasted like warm
honey with pepper mixed in it, her dark brown skin was rich, creamy, and she had been
as sweet as God had ever made any woman and she had been a virgin.
And the other guys were always talking about blow jobs, this and other variations, and
he really didn't enjoy that stuff so much. He never liked a girl that much after they tried it
that way, it just didn't satisfy him right. He and his second wife had finally not got along,
because she preferred the old sixty-nine too much to a point where she didn't want
anything else and he had to fight to stick it in. She began making fun of him and calling
him a square and the word got around that he made love like a kid. Maybe that was why
that girl last night had turned him down. Well, the hell with it, she wouldn't be too great
in the sack (гамак; койка) anyway. You could tell (можно различить, распознать) a girl
who really liked to fuck and they were always the best. Especially the ones who hadn't
been at it too long. What he really hated were the ones who had started screwing at
twelve and were all fucked out by the time they were twenty and just going through the
motions and some of them were the prettiest of all and could fake you out.
Ginny brought coffee and cake into his bedroom and put it on the long table in the
sitting room part. He told her simply that Hagen was helping him put together the money
credit for a producing package and she was excited about that. He would be important
again. But she had no idea of how powerful Don Corleone really was so she didn't
understand the significance of Hagen coming from New York. He told her Hagen was
also helping with legal details.
When they had finished the coffee he told her he was going to work that night, and
make phone calls and plans for the future. "Half of all this will be in the kids' names," he
told her. She gave him a grateful smile and kissed him good night before she left his
room.
There was a glass dish full of his favorite monogrammed cigarettes, a humidor
(коробка для хранения сигар с увлажнителем) with pencil-thin black Cuban cigars on
Дата публикования: 2014-11-18; Прочитано: 225 | Нарушение авторского права страницы | Мы поможем в написании вашей работы!