Английский язык с Крестным Отцом

All three men were looking at him with amazement. Fabrizzio whispered in awe, "It's

the real thunderbolt." The cafй owner, for the first time, didn't look so confident, or

contemptuous; his anger was not so sure. Finally he asked, "Are you a friend of the

friends?"

Since the word Mafia could never be uttered aloud by the ordinary Sicilian, this was as

close as the cafй owner could come to asking if Michael was a member of the Mafia. It

was the usual way of asking if someone belonged but it was ordinarily not addressed to

the person directly concerned.

"No," Michael said. "I'm a stranger in this country."

The cafй owner gave him another look, the smashed left side of his face, the long legs

rare in Sicily. He took a look at the two shepherds carrying their luparas quite openly

without fear and remembered how they had come into his cafй and told him their

padrone wanted to talk to him. The cafй owner had snarled (рычать; огрызаться,

сердито ворчать) that he wanted the son of a bitch out of his terrace and one of the

shepherds had said, "Take my word, it's best you go out and speak to him yourself."

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And something had made him come out. Now something made him realize that it would

be best to show this stranger some courtesy. He said grudgingly, "Come Sunday

afternoon. My name is Vitelli and my house is up there on the hill, above the village. But

come here to the cafй and I'll take you up."

Fabrizzio started to say something but Michael gave him one look and the shepherd's

tongue froze in his mouth. This was not lost on Vitelli. So when Michael stood up and

stretched out his hand, the cafй owner took it and smiled. He would make some

inquiries and if the answers were wrong he could always greet Michael with his two

sons bearing their own shotguns. The cafй owner was not without his contacts among

the "friends of the friends." But something told him this was one of those wild strokes of

good fortune that Sicilians always believed in, something told him that his daughter's

beauty would make her fortune and her family secure. And it was just as well. Some of

the local youths were already beginning to buzz around (виться, увиваться; to buzz –

жужжать, гудеть) and this stranger with his broken face could do the necessary job of

scaring them off. Vitelli, to show his goodwill, sent the strangers off with a bottle of his

best and coldest wine. He noticed that one of the shepherds paid the bill. This

impressed him even more, made it clear that Michael was the superior of the two men

who accompanied him.

Michael was no longer interested in his hike. They found a garage and hired a car and

driver to take them back to Corleone, and some time before supper, Dr. Taza must have

been informed by the shepherds of what had happened. That evening, sitting in the

garden, Dr. Taza said to Don Tommasino, "Our friend got hit by the thunderbolt today."

Don Tommasino did not seem surprised. He grunted. "I wish some of those young

fellows in Palermo would get a thunderbolt, maybe I could get some peace." He was

talking about the new-style Mafia chiefs rising in the big cities of Palermo and

challenging the power of old-regime stalwarts like himself.

Michael said to Tommasino, "I want you to tell those two sheep herders to leave me

alone Sunday. I'm going to go to this girl's family for dinner and I don't want them

hanging around."

Don Tommasino shook his head. "I'm responsible to your father for you, don't ask me

that. Another thing, I hear you've even talked marriage. I can't allow that until I've sent

somebody to speak to your father."

Michael Corleone was very careful, this was after all a man of respect. "Don

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Tommasino, you know my father. He's a man who goes deaf when somebody says the

word no to him. And he doesn't get his hearing back until they answer him with a yes.

Well, he has heard my no many times. I understand about the two guards, I don't want

to cause you trouble, they can come with me Sunday, but if I want to marry I'll marry.

Surely if I don't permit my own father to interfere with my personal life it would be an

insult to him to allow you to do so."

The capo-mafioso sighed. "Well, then, marriage it will have to be. I know your

thunderbolt. She's a good girl from a respectable family. You can't dishonor them

without the father trying to kill you, and then you'll have to shed blood. Besides, I know

the family well, I can't allow it to happen."

Michael said, "She may not be able to stand the sight of me, and she's a very young

girl, she'll think me old." He saw the two men smiling at him. "I'll need some money for

presents and I think I'll need a car."

The Don nodded. "Fabrizzio will take care of everything, he's a clever boy, they taught

him mechanics in the navy. I'll give you some money in the morning and I'll let your

father know what's happening. That I must do."

Michael said to Dr. Taza, "Have you got anything that can dry up this damn snot

(сопли /груб./) always coming out of my nose? I can't have that girl seeing me wiping it

all the time."