Calo?"
Fabrizzio stood up. His shirt was open, exposing the blue and red lines of the tattoo
on his chest. "Calo is having a cup of coffee in the kitchen," Fabrizzio said. "Is your wife
coming with you?"
Michael squinted (to squint – косить /глазами/; бросить взгляд украдкой) down at
him. It occurred to him that Fabrizzio had been following Apollonia too much with his
eyes the last few weeks. Not that he would dare ever to make an advance toward the
wife of a friend of the Don's. In Sicily there was no surer road to death. Michael said
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coldly, "No, she's going home to her family first, she'll join us in a few days." He
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watched Fabrizzio hurry into the stone hut that served as a garage for the Alfa Romeo.
Michael went down the hall to wash. Apollonia was gone. She was most likely in the
kitchen preparing his breakfast with her own hands to wash out the guilt she felt
because she wanted to see her family one more time before going so far away to the
other end of Sicily. Don Tommasino would arrange transportation for her to where
Michael would be.
Down in the kitchen the old woman Filomena brought him his coffee and shyly bid him
a good-bye. "I'll remember you to my father," Michael said and she nodded.
Calo came into the kitchen and said to Michael, "The car's outside, shall I get your
bag?"
"No, I'll get it," Michael said. "Where's Apolla?"
Calo's face broke into an amused grin. "She's sitting in the driver's seat of the car,
dying to step on the gas. She'll be a real American woman before she gets to America."
It was unheard of for one of the peasant women in Sicily to attempt driving a car. But
Michael sometimes let Apollonia guide the Alfa Romeo around the inside of the villa
walls, always beside her however because she sometimes stepped on the gas when
she meant to step on the brake.
Michael said to Calo, "Get Fabrizzio and wait for me in the car." He went out of the
kitchen and ran up the stairs to the bedroom. His bag was already packed. Before
picking it up he looked out the window and saw the car parked in front of the portico
steps rather than the kitchen entrance. Apollonia was sitting in the car, her hands on the
wheel like a child playing. Calo was just putting the lunch basket in the rear seat. And
then Michael was annoyed to see Fabrizzio disappearing through the gates of the villa
on some errand outside. What the hell was he doing? He saw Fabrizzio take a look over
his shoulder, a look that was somehow furtive. He'd have to straighten that damn
shepherd out. Michael went down the stairs and decided to go through the kitchen to
see Filomena again and give her a final farewell. He asked the old woman, "Is Dr. Taza
still sleeping?"
Filomena's wrinkled face was sly. "Old roosters (петух) can't greet the sun. The doctor
went to Palermo last night."
Michael laughed. He went out the kitchen entrance and the smell of lemon blossoms
penetrated even his sinus-filled nose. He saw Apollonia wave to him from the car just
ten paces up the villa's driveway and then he realized she was motioning him to stay
where he was, that she meant to drive the car to where he stood. Calo stood grinning
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beside the car, his lupara dangling in his hand. But there was still no sign of Fabrizzio.
At that moment, without any conscious reasoning process, everything came together in
his mind, and Michael shouted to the girl, "No! No!" But his shout was drowned in the
roar of the tremendous explosion as Apollonia switched on the ignition (зажигание).
The kitchen door shattered into fragments and Michael was hurled along the wall of the
villa for a good ten feet. Stones tumbling from the villa roof hit him on the shoulders and
one glanced off (to glance off – скользнуть; glance [glα:ns] – быстрый взгляд; to
glance – мельком взглянуть; мелькнуть; отражаться) his skull as he was lying on the
ground. He was conscious just long enough to see that nothing remained of the Alfa
Romeo but its four wheels and the steel shafts which held them together.
He came to consciousness in a room that seemed very dark and heard voices that
were so low that they were pure sound rather than words. Out of animal instinct he tried
to pretend he was still unconscious but the voices stopped and someone was leaning
from a chair close to his bed and the voice was distinct now, saying, "Well, he's with us
finally." A lamp went on, its light like white fire on his eyeballs and Michael turned his
head. It felt very heavy, numb. And then he could see the face over his bed was that of
Dr. Taza.
"Let me look at you a minute and I'll put the light out," Dr. Taza said gently. He was
busy shining a small pencil flashlight (ручной фонарик) into Michael's eyes. "You'll be
all right," Dr. Taza said and turned to someone else in the room. "You can speak to
him."
It was Don Tommasino sitting on a chair near his bed, Michael could see him clearly
now. Don Tommasino was saying, "Michael, Michael, can I talk to you? Do you want to
rest?"
It was easier to raise a hand to make a gesture and Michael did so and Don
Tommasino said, "Did Fabrizzio bring the car from the garage?"
Michael, without knowing he did so, smiled. It was in some strange way, a chilling smile,
of assent (согласие; разрешение [∂'sent]). Don Tommasino said, "Fabrizzio has
vanished. Listen to me, Michael. You've been unconscious for nearly a week. Do you
understand? Everybody thinks you're dead, so you're safe now, they've stopped looking
for you. I've sent messages to your father and he's sent back instructions. It won't be
long now, you'll be back in America. Meanwhile you'll rest here quietly. You're safe up in
the mountains, in a special farmhouse I own. The Palermo people have made their
peace with me now that you're supposed to be dead, so it was you they were after all
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the time. They wanted to kill you while making people think it was me they were after.
That's something you should know. As for everything else, leave it all to me. You
recover your strength and be tranquil (спокойный [‘trжŋkwıl])."
Michael was remembering everything now. He knew his wife was dead, that Calo was
dead. He thought of the old woman in the kitchen. He couldn't remember if she had
come outside with him. He whispered, "Filomena?" Don Tommasino said quietly, "She
wasn't hurt, just a bloody nose from the blast. Don't worry about her."
Michael said, "Fabrizzio. Let your shepherds know that the one who gives me
Fabrizzio will own the finest pastures in Sicily."
Both men seemed to sigh with relief. Don Tommasino lifted a glass from a nearby
table and drank from it an amber fluid (янтарная жидкость ['flu:ıd]) that jolted (to jolt –
подбрасывать) his head up. Dr. Taza sat on the bed and said almost absently, "You
know, you're a widower. That's rare in Sicily." As if the distinction might comfort him.
Michael motioned to Don Tommasino to lean closer. The Don sat on the bed and bent
his head. "Tell my father to get me home," Michael said. "Tell my father I wish to be his
son."
But it was to be another month before Michael recovered from his injuries and another
two months after that before all the necessary papers and arrangements were ready.
Then he was flown from Palermo to Rome and from Rome to New York. In all that time
no trace had been found of Fabrizzio.
Book 7
Chapter 25
When Kay Adams received her college degree, she took a job teaching grade school
in her New Hampshire hometown. The first six months after Michael vanished she made
weekly telephone calls to his mother asking about him. Mrs. Corleone was always
friendly and always wound up saying, "You a very very nice girl. You forget about Mikey
and find a nice husband." Kay was not offended at her bluntness and understood that
the mother spoke out of concern for her as a young girl in an impossible situation.
When her first school term ended, she decided to go to New York to buy some decent
clothes and see some old college girl friends. She thought also about looking for some
sort of interesting job in New York. She had lived like a spinster for almost two years,
reading and teaching, refusing dates, refusing to go out at all, even though she had
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given up making calls to Long Beach. She knew she couldn't keep that up, she was
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becoming irritable and unhappy. But she had always believed Michael would write her
or send her a message of some sort. That he had not done so humiliated her, it
saddened her that he was so distrustful even of her.
She took an early train and was checked into her hotel by midafternoon. Her girl
friends worked and she didn't want to bother them at their jobs, she planned to call them
at night. And she didn't really feel like going shopping after the exhausting train trip.
Being alone in the hotel room, remembering all the times she and Michael had used
hotel rooms to make love, gave her a feeling of desolation. It was that more than