room waited for Michael to make the first move.
And now that he had her alone, now that he legally possessed her, now that there
was no barrier to his enjoying that body and face he had dreamed about every night,
Michael could not bring himself to approach her. He watched as she took off the bridal
shawl and draped it over a chair, and placed the bridal crown on the small dressing
table. That table had an array of perfumes and creams that Michael had had sent from
Palermo. The girl tallied (tally – бирка, этикетка, ярлык; счет /в игре/; to tally –
подсчитывать, здесь: просмотреть) them with her eyes for a moment.
Michael turned off the lights, thinking the girl was waiting for some darkness to shield
her body while she undressed. But the Sicilian moon came through the unshuttered
windows, bright as gold, and Michael went to close the shutters but not all the way, the
room would be too warm.
The girl was still standing by the table and so Michael went out of the room and down
the hall to the bathroom. He and Dr. Taza and Don Tommasino had taken a glass of
wine together in the garden while the women had prepared themselves for bed. He had
expected to find Apollonia in her nightgown when he returned, already between the
covers. He was surprised that the mother had not done this service for her daughter.
Maybe Apollonia had wanted him to help her to undress. But he was certain she was
too shy, too innocent for such forward behavior (смелое, развязное поведение;
forward [‘fo:w∂d] – передний, передовой; развязный, нахальный /кто лезет вперед/;
behavior [bı’heıvj∂] – поведение, манеры).
Coming back into the bedroom, he found it completely dark, someone had closed the
shutters all the way. He groped his way toward the bed and could make out the shape
of Apollonia's body lying under the covers, her back to him, her body curved away from
him and huddled up. He undressed and slipped naked beneath the sheets. He stretched
out one hand and touched silky naked skin. She had not put on her gown and this
boldness delighted him. Slowly, carefully, he put one hand on her shoulder and pressed
her hody gently so that she would turn to him. She turned slowly and his hand touched
her breast, soft, full and then she was in his arms so quickly that their bodies came
together in one line of silken electricity and he finally had his arms around her, was
kissing her warm mouth deeply, was crushing her body and breasts against him and
then rolling his body on top of hers.
Her flesh and hair taut (туго натянутый, упругий [to:t]) silk, now she was all
eagerness, surging against him wildly in a virginal erotic frenzy. When he entered her
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she gave a little gasp and was still for just a second and then in a powerful forward
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thrust of her pelvis she locked her satiny legs around his hips. When they came to the
end they were locked together so fiercely, straining against each other so violently, that
falling away from each other was like the tremble before death.
That night and the weeks that followed, Michael Corleone came to understand the
premium (большой почет, спрос [‘pri:mj∂m]) put on virginity by socially primitive people.
It was a period of sensuality that he had never before experienced, a sensuality mixed
with a feeling of masculine power. Apollonia in those first days became almost his slave.
Given trust, given affection, a young full-blooded girl aroused from virginity to erotic
awareness was as delicious as an exactly ripe fruit.
She on her part brightened up the rather gloomy masculine atmosphere of the villa.
She had packed her mother off the very next day after her bridal night and presided at
the communal table with bright girlish charm. Don Tommasino dined with them every
night and Dr. Taza told all his old stories as they drank wine in the garden full of statues
garlanded with blood-red flowers, and so the evenings passed pleasantly enough. At
night in their bedroom the newly married couple spent hours of feverish lovemaking.
Michael could not get enough of Apollonia's beautifully sculpted body, her honey-
colored skin, her huge brown eyes glowing with passion. She had a wonderfully fresh
smell, a fleshly smell perfumed by her sex yet almost sweet and unbearably
aphrodisiacal. Her virginal passion matched his nuptial lust and often it was dawn when
they fell into an exhausted slumber. Sometimes, spent but not yet ready for sleep,
Michael sat on the window ledge (на подоконнике; ledge – планка, рейка; выступ)
and stared at Apollonia's naked body while she slept. Her face too was lovely in repose,
a perfect face he had seen before only in art books of painted Italian Madonnas who by
no stretch (напряжение) of the artist's skill could be thought virginal.
In the first week of their marriage they went on picnics and small trips in the Alfa
Romeo. But then Don Tommasino took Michael aside and explained that the marriage
had made his presence and identity common knowledge in that part of Sicily and
precautions had to be taken against the enemies of the Corleone Family, whose long
arms also stretched to this island refuge. Don Tommasino put armed guards around his
villa and the two shepherds, Calo and Fabrizzio, were fixtures (прикрепление; лицо,
прочно обосновавшееся в каком-либо месте) inside the walls. So Michael and his
wife had to remain on the villa grounds. Michael passed the time by teaching Apollonia
to read and write English and to drive the car along the inner walls of the villa. About
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this time Don Tommasino seemed to be preoccupied and poor company. He was still
having trouble with the new Mafia in the town of Palermo, Dr. Taza said.
One night in the garden an old village woman who worked in the house as a servant
brought a dish of fresh olives and then turned to Michael and said, "Is it true what
everybody is saying that you are the son of Don Corleone in New York City, the
Godfather?"
Michael saw Don Tommasino shaking his head in disgust at the general knowledge of
their secret. But the old crone (старуха, старая карга) was looking at him in so
concerned a fashion, as if it was important for her to know the truth, that Michael
nodded. "Do you know my father?" he asked.
The woman's name was Filomena and her face was as wrinkled and brown as a
walnut, her brown-stained teeth showing through the shell of her flesh. For the first time
since he had been in the villa she smiled at him. "The Godfather saved my life once,"
she said, "and my brains too." She made a gesture toward her head.
She obviously wanted to say something else so Michael smiled to encourage her. She
asked almost fearfully, "Is it true that Luca Brasi is dead?"
Michael nodded again and was surprised at the look of release on the old woman's
face. Filomena crossed herself and said, "God forgive me, but may his soul roast in hell
for eternity."
Michael remembered his old curiosity about Brasi, and had the sudden intuition that
this woman knew the story Hagen and Sonny had refused to tell him. He poured the
woman a glass of wine and made her sit down. "Tell me about my father and Luca
Brasi," he said gently. "I know some of it, but how did they become friends and why was
Brasi so devoted to my father? Don't be afraid, come tell me."
Filomena's wrinkled face, her raisin-black (raisin [reızn] – изюм) eyes, turned to Don
Tommasino, who in some way signaled his permission. And so Filomena passed the
evening for them by telling her story.
Thirty years before, Filnmena had been a midwife in New York City, on Tenth Avenue,
servicing the Italian colony. The women were always pregnant and she prospered. She
taught doctors a few things when they tried to interfere in a difficult birth. Her husband
was then a prosperous grocery store owner, dead now poor soul, she blessed him,
though he had been a card player and wencher (бабник; wench – девушка, молодая
женщина /шутл./) who never thought to put aside for hard times. In any event one
cursed night thirty years ago when all honest people were long in their beds, there came
a knocking on Filomena's door. She was by no means frightened, it was the quiet hour
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babes prudently chose to enter safely into this sinful world, and so she dressed and
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opened the door. Outside it was Luca Brasi whose reputation even then was fearsome.
It was known also that he was a bachelor. And so Filomena was immediately frightened.
She thought he had come to do her husband harm, that perhaps her husband had
foolishly refused Brasi some small favor.
But Brasi had come on the usual errand. He told Filomena that there was a woman
about to give birth, that the house was out of the neighborhood some distance away
and that she was to come with him. Filomena immediately sensed something amiss.
Brasi's brutal face looked almost like that of a madman that night, he was obviously in
the grip of some demon. She tried to protest that she attended only women whose
history she knew but he shoved a bandful of green dollars in her hand and ordered her
roughly to come along with him. She was too frightened to refuse.