Don Corleone made a sympathetic gesture reluctantly, and Bonassella said it down, the pain making his voice human. “Why am I crying? My beloved daughter, the light of my life. A beautiful girl. She trusted others before and never will again. She’s never beautiful again.” Bonner Serra was shaking all over. The gray face rose to an ugly crimson.
“I went to the police like a serious American. The police arrested the two boys and sent them to court for trial. The evidence was solid and they pleaded guilty. The judge sentenced them to three years in prison, but the execution was suspended and released on the day of the trial. I stood there. In court, like a big fool, those bastards still smile at me. So I said to my wife,’We must find Don Corleone to get justice.'”
Tang lowered his head, showing respect for the man’s pain. However, when he spoke, his words were cold, as if his dignity was offended. “Why did you call the police? Why didn’t you come to me in the first place?”
Bonner Serra murmured almost inaudibly, “What do you want me to do? Just say what you want. But please fulfill my request.” His words were almost arrogant.
Don Corleone said sternly: “What is your plea?”
Bonner Serra glanced at Hagen and Sonny Corleone and shook his head. Sitting at Heigen’s desk, Tang didn’t get up, but leaned out toward the funeral home owner. Bonner Serra hesitated for a moment, then bent down and put her lips against Tang’s furry ears. Don Corleone listened like a priest in the confession room, looking into the distance, indifferent and calm. This position remained for a long time, and finally Bonner Serra finished whispering and straightened his waist. Tang raised his eyes and looked at Bonn Serra seriously. Bonner Serra’s face flushed, and she looked back without fear.
At the end, Tang said: “I can’t do it, you’re so forgotten.”
Bonassella raised her voice and said clearly: “I promise you everything you want.” Hearing shivered, and he tightened his head. Sonny Corleone folded his arms, sneered, turned around from the window, and looked at the scene in the room for the first time.
Don Corleone got up from his desk. He was still calm, but his voice was like a cold death. “We have known each other for many years, you and me,” he said to the owner of the funeral home, “but to this day, you have never asked for my opinion or asked for my help. My wife is the godmother of your only daughter, but I I can’t remember the last time you asked me to go to your house for coffee. You trampled on my friendship, lest you owe me a debt.”
Bonassella murmured: “I don’t want to cause trouble.”
Don raised a hand. “Forget it, don’t say it. You think America is paradise. You have a prosperous business and a good life. You think this world is a carefree place where you can enjoy happiness as you want. You don’t have to arm yourself with real friends, because there are The police protect you, and the court, you and your family are not afraid of losing money by asking them for help. You don’t need Don Corleone. Very good.
My feelings are hurt, but I won’t force friendships that are not needed People, especially those who look down on me.” Down paused and smiled politely but mockingly to the funeral home owner, “Today you came to me and said something like’Don Corleone, please help me get justice’. Begged me but didn’t respect me. You didn’t show your friendship. You came to me on the day of my daughter’s wedding, asking me to kill, what else to say–” Tang imitated contemptuously, “‘I do whatever you want. Promise.’No, no, I’m not angry, I just want to know, what did I do that caused you to treat me so impolite?”
The distressed and frightened Bonner Serra shouted: “The United States treats me very well. I want to be a good citizen. I hope my children can be Americans.”
Tang Yi slapped his hands and expressed his firm agreement. “Well said. Very good. What else can you complain about? The judge has made a decision. The United States has made a decision. Go to the hospital to visit her with flowers and sweets. She will be very pleased to see her. What else Unsatisfied? It’s not a big deal anymore, the guy is still young, his flesh is fresh, and there is a son of a senior official. Alas, my dear, American, you have been following the rules. Although you trample My friendship, I must admit that I fully believe that Amerigo Bonassella’s promise is more reliable than anyone else’s. So, you have to promise me that you will dispel those crazy thoughts. This is not in line with the American spirit. Forgive, forget. Life is full of misfortune.”
Tang restrained his anger, ruthlessly, arrogantly and ruthlessly, turning the poor funeral home owner into a ball of jelly, but he still mustered up the courage and said again: “I ask you to do justice.”
Don Corleone said perfunctorily: “The court gave you justice.”
Bonassella shook his head stubbornly. “No, the court gave justice to the two young men, but not me.”
Tang nodded his head and agreed with this right and wrong judgment. He asked: “What justice do you want?”
“An eye for an eye.” Bonner Serra said.
“You want too much,” Tang said, “your daughter is still alive.”
Bonassella said reluctantly: “Then let them suffer the same.” Tang waited for him to continue. Bonner Serra summoned one last bit of courage and said, “How much do I have to pay you?” It was a desperate cry.
Don Corleone turned away. This is a clear rejection. Bonassella was motionless.
In the end, Don Corleone sighed and turned to face the funeral director who was pale as a corpse, like a kind man who could not be angry for a long time with his erring friend. Don Corleone is generous, Don Corleone is patient. “Why are you afraid to dedicate your first loyalty to me?” He said, “You go to court and wait for a few months. You spend money to get a lawyer. The lawyer knows very well that you will only insult yourself in the end. You accept the judge’s verdict, and the judge betrays yourself like the cheapest prostitute on the street. A few years ago, you had tight hands and went to the bank to borrow money, and the interest was high enough to kill. You held a hat and stood aside like a beggar. They smelled all over their noses and put their noses into your buttholes, just to confirm your ability to repay the loan.” Down paused, his voice became more severe.
“But if you come to me, my wallet is yours. If you come to me for justice and insult your daughter’s scumbag, you will only cry more sadly today. If you are an honest person who is unlucky and provokes the enemy, then They are also my enemies…” Tang raised his arm and pointed at Bonn Serra, “Then, please believe me, they will only be afraid of you.”
Bonner Serra lowered her head and muttered in a strangled voice: “Be my friend. I accept them all.”
Don Corleone reached out and pressed his shoulder. “Very well,” he said, “your justice will be served. One day—perhaps never will—I will ask you to repay me and help me with small things. Before that day, just be this Justice is a gift, from my wife, your daughter’s godmother.”
The door was closed behind the grateful Dade funeral home owner. Don Corleone turned and said to Hagen: “Leave the matter to Clemenza and tell him to send someone reliable to deal with it. It can’t be a subordinate who just forgets the smell of blood. What daydreaming is in that stupid brain that is serving the corpse, we are not murderers after all.” He noticed the masculine eldest son looking at the garden banquet from the window. Hopeless, Don Corleone thought, if Santino resisted teaching so much, he would not be able to lead the family business and would never be a Tang. He must find another candidate as soon as possible, after all, he is just a mortal.
The earth-shattering cheers from the garden startled the three people. Sonny Corleone leaned close to the window, and what he saw made him walk quickly to the door, with a happy smile on his face. “It’s Johnny, he’s here for the wedding, what should I say?” Hagen walked to the window. “It is indeed your godson,” he said to Don Corleone, “will you bring him here?”
“No,” Tang said. “Let everyone be happy with him. Tell him to come and see me again.” He smiled at Heigen. “Did you see it? Really a good godson.”
Jealousy made Hagen feel a heartache. He said dryly: “I haven’t seen you for two years. I’ve probably gotten into trouble again, so I come to you for help.”
“Who can the godfather who doesn’t find him in trouble go to?” Don Corleone asked.
Connie Corleone was the first to see Johnny Fantin walking into the garden. She forgot the bride’s restraint and screamed: “Johnny!” She ran over and threw herself into his arms. He hugged Connie tightly and kissed her on the mouth. When the others came up to greet him, he still held Connie with his arms. They are all his old friends, the partners he grew up with in the West End. Connie dragged him to see the groom. Johnny felt a little funny when he saw that the blonde young man was disgruntled because he was no longer the focus of today. He used all his charms, shook hands with the groom, and took a glass of wine to toast him.
A familiar voice rang from the stage: “Johnny, come and sing us a song?” He looked up and saw Nino Valenti’s smile. Johnny Fontan jumped on the stage and hugged Nino. They were inseparable, singing together and dating girls together, until Johnny became famous and often went to the radio to sing. After Johnny went to Hollywood to make a movie, he called Nino a few times, just to chat, and promised to arrange him to sing in the club. But he never took action. Seeing Nino today, seeing his drunk narrow smile, all the friendship from the past returned.
Nino began to play the mandolin. Johnny Fontan put Nino on the shoulder. “This song is dedicated to the bride,” he said, stomping to sing an obscene Sicilian love song. While he sang, Nino made wretched movements with his body. The bride flushed proudly, and the guests expressed appreciation with cheers. Singing and singing, everyone started stomping and shouting naughty puns at the end of each bar. After singing one song, they kept clapping and clapping until Johnny cleared his throat and sang the second song.
They are all proud of him. He is one of them and is now a famous singer, movie star, sleeping with the sexiest goddess in a man’s heart. In spite of this, he traveled three thousand miles to attend the wedding and paid enough respect to his godfather. He still loves old friends like Nino Valenti. Many people have seen Johnny and Nino sing together when they were young, but who would have expected that Johnny could capture the hearts of 50 million women when he grew up?
Johnny Fontaine leaned over and dragged the bride onto the stage, allowing Connie to stand between him and Nino. The two men bent down and faced each other. Nino slammed the strings and played a few harsh chords. This is their old trick, imitating the battle in the love field, using the sound as a sharp edge, and roaring in turn for a while. Johnny gave up half a step subtly, allowing Nino to cover his voice, let Nino grab the bride in his arms, let Nino take the last part of the triumphant lyrics briskly, his voice gradually diminished. Cheers and applause erupted from the entire wedding scene, and the song ended and the three embraced each other. The guests begged for another one.
Only Don Corleone standing at the corner of the house felt something was wrong. He pretended to be in a good mood, trying not to offend the guests, and shouted happily: “My godson ran three thousand miles to pay tribute to us, don’t anyone want to let him run his throat?” The glass of red wine reached out to Johnny Fantin. He took a sip from each glass, then ran to hug his godfather, and at the same time leaned in to the old man’s ear and said something. Tang led him into the room.
Johnny walked into the room and Tom Hagen held out his hand. Johnny shook hands with him and said, “How are you lately, Tom?” But he lacked the sincere and warm charm of dealing with others. He was hurt by his coldness, but he didn’t take it seriously. Being Tang’s confidant also has disadvantages, and this is one of them.
Johnny Fontan said to Tang: “When I received the wedding invitation, I thought to myself,’My godfather is no longer angry with me.’ I called you five times after my divorce, and Tom always said you were out or Very busy, so I know you are upset.”
Don Corleone picked up the yellow “witch” bottle and filled the glass. “It’s all a thing of the past. Now is the present. Can I still do anything for you? Or are you too famous and too rich to need my help anymore?”
Johnny drank the glass of yellow spirits, and stretched out the glass to signal that he needed it. He said in a relaxed voice as much as possible: “Where am I rich, Godfather? I’m going downhill. You are right. I shouldn’t abandon my wife and children for the sake of this bitch. You are angry with me, I don’t Blame you.”
Tang shrugged. “I’m just worried about you, you are my godson, nothing else.”
Johnny paced around the room. “I was dazzled by that bitch fan. Hollywood’s most amazing star. She looks like a fairy. But do you know what she did after filming the movie? If the makeup artist is a man and draws her face nicely, she will Allow him to fuck her. If the photographer takes her very photogenic, she will lead him to the dressing room and have a shot with him. Anyone can do. She treats her body like I am tipping change in my pocket . Completely a bitch of the devil.”
Don Corleone suddenly interrupted: “How is your family?”
Johnny sighed. “I’m taking care of it. After the divorce, I gave Ginny and the child more than the court verdict. I see them once a week. I miss them. Sometimes I think I’m going crazy.” He drank another glass of wine. “The current wife laughs at me all day. She doesn’t understand why I’m jealous. She said that I’m a black-skinned brain, and also made fun of my singing. I cleaned her up before I left, but didn’t slap her face, because she I’m making a movie. I beat her into cramps, hitting her arms and legs like a child, and she kept laughing.” He lit a cigarette and said, “That’s it, Godfather, life is really boring.”
Don Corleone’s answer was simple: “I can’t help you with these troubles.” He paused, then asked, “What’s wrong with your voice?”
Confident charm and self-deprecating expressions disappeared from Johnny Fontan’s face. He almost burst into tears and said, “Godfather, I can’t sing anymore. I have a problem with my throat, and the doctor can’t figure it out.” Hagen and Don looked at him in surprise. Johnny was always stiff. Fang Tan continued: “My two movies have made a lot of money. I used to be a big star, and now they kick me away. The film company boss hates me, and now I will be sent off.”