Godfather Chapter 1.2

The third son, Michael Corleone, did not stand beside his father and two brothers, but found the most secluded corner of the garden and sat at a wine table. But even so, he still can’t hide from the attention of his family and friends.

Michael Corleone is Tang’s youngest son, and the only child who refuses the mercy of the big man. He doesn’t have the thick eyebrows and big eyes of other children’s love face, and he doesn’t even curl his black hair, but straight hair. His pure olive-brown complexion must be beautiful on girls, his handsomeness is quite delicate. To be honest, Tang had worried about the masculinity of his younger son. Michael Corleone grew to seventeen years old, his worries disappeared.

At this moment, his young son is sitting in the most remote corner of the garden to show his intention to alienate his father and family. Everyone had heard of the American girl sitting next to him, but only today did they see it with their own eyes. Of course, he will not ignore the proper number of courtesies. He introduced her to meet everyone, including his family. The family had a general impression of her. She is too thin, too white, her face is too shrewd for women, and her manners are too casual for girls. Even the name sounds so weird, she calls herself Kay Adams. Even if she tells everyone that her family settled in the United States two hundred years ago, no one knows this surname, they might just shrug their shoulders.

The guests noticed that Tang didn’t pay much attention to his younger son. Michael was his darling before the war, and it seems that only when the time is right, Tang will choose him to inherit the family business. He inherited the calm energy and wisdom of the father of big figures, and his natural instincts made people have to respect him. After the outbreak of World War II, Michael Corleone volunteered to join the Marine Corps, defying his father’s explicit order.

Don Corleone was unwilling and uninterested in letting his younger son die because he was loyal to a regime not related to him. He has bribed good doctors, made various arrangements in private, and spent a lot of money on preventive measures. However, Michael has turned 21, and no one can reverse his personal wishes. He joined the army, fought across the Pacific, was promoted to captain, and won a medal. In 1944, “Life” magazine published his photos and outstanding military exploits. A friend showed the magazine to Don Corleone (the family didn’t have the guts), and Tang murmured contemptuously, saying: “He created those miracles for strangers.”

In 1945, Michael Corleone, who was recovering from his injuries, retired early. He didn’t even know that his father arranged his retirement. He stayed at home for a few weeks, without discussing with anyone, suddenly went to Dartmouth College in Hanover, New Hampshire, and left his father’s residence. This time I came back to attend my sister’s wedding on the one hand, and on the other hand to let the family meet his fiancee, a pale and feeble American girl.

Several guests have a very colorful life, and Michael Corleone is using their little anecdotes to make Kay Adams happy. She thinks these people are unusual, so Michael finds it very fun. She always sees the new and strange things. She is always fascinated by Michael as usual. In the end, a small group of people attracted her attention, and they all gathered beside the wooden barrels for making wine at home. Those people are Amerigo Bonassella, baker Nazolini, Anthony Coppola and Luca Brazi. With her always keen eyes, she pointed out that these four people seemed unhappy. Michael smiled and said, “Yes, they are not happy. They are waiting to see my father in private. Ask him to do something.” It’s easy to see that the eyes of the four people stayed in the shadow of Tang.

Don Corleone stood at the door to welcome the guests. A black Chevrolet drove over and stopped on the other side of the tree-lined road. The two men in the front row pulled out a notepad from their jacket pockets and unabashedly copied the number of nearby vehicles. Sonny turned to his father and said, “The two guys over there must be police.”

Don Corleone shrugged. “The road is not my home, they do whatever they like.”

Sonny’s face was flushed with anger. “You mean bastard, don’t respect anything.” He walked down the front steps, through the boulevard, to the place where the black car was parked. He pressed his face closer to the driver in anger. Instead of flinching, the driver opened the wallet and showed the green ID. Sonny stepped back without saying a word, sipped towards the back door of the car, and walked away. He hoped that the driver could jump out of the car to catch up, but the driver was indifferent. He went back to the steps and said to his father: “The FBI is copying the license plate number, rude court jerk.”

Don Corleone knew who they were. His closest friend has long been reminded not to attend the wedding in his own car. Although he does not approve of his son’s stupid display of anger, it is also good for his son to lose his temper, which makes uninvited guests mistakenly believe that their “accident” appears to be caught off guard. Don Corleone himself is not angry. There is a reason he has long figured out, that is, you must bear the insult imposed by society, because he understands that even the humblest person, as long as he keeps his eyes open, will sooner or later take the opportunity to avenge the most powerful people. It is precisely because of this truth that Tang never gave up his humble demeanor, which all his friends admired.

In the garden behind the mansion, the four-piece band began to play. The guests are all here. Tang put the uninvited guest behind him and led his two sons to the wedding reception.

Hundreds of guests gathered in the spacious garden. Some danced on a wooden stage dotted with flowers, and some sat at a long table full of fragrant food and large pots of home-brewed wine. The bride, Connie Corleone, was dazzling, sitting around a specially raised dining table with the groom, bridesmaids, bridesmaids and greeters. The country-style decoration is in line with Italian traditions, but not to the bride’s appetite, but Connie’s choice of this husband has offended her father, so she had to use a “black skin” wedding ceremony to please him.

  1. Guinea: Scorn for Italian Americans.

The bridegroom Carlo Ricci is a mixed-race. His father is Sicilian and his mother is from northern Italy. He inherited his mother’s blond hair and blue eyes. Carlo’s parents lived in Nevada, and he caused some lawsuits and had to leave there. He met Sonny Corleone in New York and then met Sonny’s sister. Of course, Don Corleone sent a few trusted friends to Nevada. They reported that Carlo and the police were entangled because Carlos was careless with the gun. The problem was not serious, and it was easy to erase the record and make him innocent. They also brought back information about legal gambling in Nevada, which Tang is very interested in, and has been thinking about it recently. One of Tang Gaoming’s methods is to distribute the sources of interest in different industries.

Connie Corleone is not pretty, thin, a little nervous, and she must be a bitch in the future. But today is different. The white wedding dress and the desire to show her virginity changed her. She is radiant and almost beautiful. Under the wooden tabletop, she put her hands on the groom’s muscular thighs, pursed her eros-like arched lips, and kissed him through the air.

She thought Carlo Ricci was beyond handsome. Carlo Ricci worked in the desert under the scorching sun when he was a child, doing very hard physical work, so his forearms and shoulders were unusually strong, and the tuxedo was bulging. He bathed in the eyes of the bride’s admiration and filled the bride with wine glasses. He treated her extraordinarily attentively, as if the two were actors on the same stage, but his eyes swept from time to time to the oversized velvet handbag that the bride was carrying on her right shoulder. The envelope filled with cash filled the handbag. How many are there? Ten thousand? Twenty thousand? Carlo Ricci smiled slightly. This is just the beginning. He finally got married with the rich and they will take care of him.

Among the guests was a well-dressed young man with a slick ferret head, who was also looking at the velvet handbag. Paulie Cato figured out how to snatch the bulging purse. Thinking about it makes people happy. But he knew it was just boring and harmless delusions, like a child dreaming of knocking down a tank with an air gun. He looked at his boss Peter Clemenza, the middle-aged fat man danced a cheerful Tarantella folk dance on the wooden stage around several girls. Clemenza’s height is scary, and his size is also scary.

The dance steps are skillful and unrestrained, and the chest of the girls who are much younger and shorter than him is fascinated by the hard belly color. The guests can’t help but applaud. . The older woman grabbed his arm and scrambled for the position of the dance partner in the next round. The younger man respectfully gave up the dance floor and slap with the mandolin’s wild rhythm. Clemenza finally slumped down on the chair, and Paulie Gato brought a glass of iced black wine, and took out a silk handkerchief to wipe his sweaty Jupiter’s forehead. Clemenza drank heavily and gasped like a whale. He didn’t thank Pauli, but said straightforwardly: “Don’t be a dance judge here, do what you should do. Walk around two more laps to see if there is any problem.” Pauly hurried into the crowd.

The band took a break. A young man named Nino Valenti picked up the mandolin they had put down, raised his left foot on the seat, and sang a vulgar Sicilian love song. Nino Valenti has a handsome face, but swells from drinking all year round. He was a little drunk at the moment, rolling his eyes, licking his tongue, singing lewd lyrics. The women screamed happily, and the men followed the singer with the last word of each bar.

Don Corleone was notoriously rigid in this kind of thing, and although his chunky wife cheered happily with everyone, he turned and got into the house. Sonny Corleone looked in, got up and walked to the bride’s table, and sat down beside the young bridesmaid Lucy Mancini. They are safe. Sonny’s wife is busy in the kitchen, finishing the final decoration of the wedding cake. Sonny bit the girl’s ear and said a few words. The girl got up and left. Sonny waited for a few minutes, pretending to follow him carelessly, he squeezed through the crowd, stopping from time to time to chat with guests.

Everyone’s eyes are on them. The bridesmaid has gone to college for three years and has become an American. She is a well-known mature girl. During the wedding rehearsal, she flirted with Sonny Corleone with teasing and jokes from beginning to end. Since he is the best man and playing a couple with her at the wedding, she feels that this is allowed. She rolled up her pink robe, walked into the room, pretended to be an innocent smile, ran up the stairs briskly, entered the bathroom, and stayed there for a while. When she came out, she saw Sonny Corleone waving to her on the upper landing.

Don Corleone’s “office” is a slightly elevated corner room, with the windows closed at the moment, and Tom Hagen looking through the glass at the brightly lit garden wedding reception. The wall-mounted bookshelf behind him is full of law books. Hegen is Tang’s lawyer and consultant, and is the family’s most important subordinate. He and Tang solved many thorny problems in this room, so when he saw the godfather leave the wedding banquet and walk into the house, he knew that even if today is the day of the big celebration, some trivial matters must be dealt with, and Tang will come to him. Immediately after that, Hagen saw Sonny Corleone and Lucy Mancini biting their ears, and the little comedy where he followed Lucy into the house. Heigen made a face, considering whether to tell Tang, and finally decided to forget it. He walked to the desk and picked up the handwritten list. The people listed had all been allowed to see Don Corleone in private. Tang walked into the room and Hagen handed him the list. Don Corleone nodded and said, “Bonneserra will stay for the end.”

Hagen pushed open the French double door, walked straight into the garden, walked to the beggers gathered around the barrels, and pointed to the chubby baker Nazzolini.

Don Corleone welcomes the baker with a hug. They were playmates when they were young in Italy, and they are still good friends when they grow up. Every Easter, freshly baked butter cream malt pie is delivered to Don Corleone’s home. The crispy skin is golden brown, big and round, comparable to truck tires. On Christmas and family members’ birthdays, Nazorini pays tribute to the delicious cream. In recent years, no matter the business is good or bad, Nazzolini always happily paid fees to the bakery association founded by Tang when he was young. He never asked for it except for the hope of buying sugar tickets from the Price Bureau on the black market during the war. Any favors. Now that the loyal friend had the opportunity to plead for assistance, Don Corleone was willing to answer his request.

He handed the baker a “noble” cigar, a glass of yellow “witch” liqueur, and pressed the baker’s shoulder to encourage him to continue. This is the human side of Tang. He has also had a bitter experience, knowing how much courage it takes to ask for help.

The baker talks about his daughter and Enzo. A young man from Sicily, Italy, was captured by the American army and came to the United States as a prisoner of war. He was released on parole and contributed to the American war! The honest Enzo and the innocent Catherine germinated pure and noble feelings, but now that the war is over and the poor young man is about to be sent back to Italy, Nazzolini’s daughter will definitely be heartbroken. Only Godfather Corleone can help the distressed couple. He is their last hope.

Don paced with Nazzolini, pressing his hand on the baker’s shoulder, nodding sympathetically, encouraging the baker’s courage. When he finally finished speaking, Don Corleone smiled and said to him: “My dear friend, you don’t have to worry about it.” He began to explain his solution carefully. First petition the members of Congress in this constituency. A special bill was proposed by members of Congress to allow Enzo to naturalize in the United States. The bill will definitely pass in Congress. This is the prerogative of the villain’s embezzlement. Don Corleone explained that money is needed to do things, and the current price is two thousand yuan. He, Don Corleone himself, is willing to ensure that things are done smoothly and the fees are collected by him. What do you say, friend?

The baker nodded desperately. He knew that doing such a big thing must cost money. It is totally understandable. The special bills of Congress are not cheap. Nazzolini burst into tears with gratitude. Don Corleone walked to the door with him, and guaranteed that he would go to the baker to arrange all the details and arrange all necessary documents. The baker hugged him hard, then disappeared into the garden.

Hagen smiled to Tang and said, “Nazzolini made a good investment. Two thousand yuan for a son-in-law and a lifelong helper in a bakery.” He paused, “Who will do it?”

Don Corleone frowned and thought: “Don’t look for our people. Give it to the Jews in the next constituency. Change the home address. The war is over and there are probably a lot of similar things. You have to arrange a few more people in Washington to deal with us. There are endless things to avoid price increases.” Hagen made notes in the notebook, “Don’t go to Senator Rutko, try Fischer.”

Hegen brought in the second person, and his question was simple. His name is Anthony Coppola, and his father was Don Corleone’s working partner in the railway freight yard when he was young. Coppola wants to open a pizzeria and requires a deposit of 500 yuan to purchase facilities and a special oven. For some unexplored reasons, the other party does not accept credit. Tang drew a roll of banknotes from his pocket. The amount was not enough.

He made a grimace and said to Tom Hagen, “Lend me a hundred yuan, and I went to the bank to pay you back on Monday.” The begger repeatedly stated that four hundred yuan is enough, but Don Corleone He patted him on the shoulder and said apologetically: “The wedding was too expensive, and I was a little short of cash.” He took the money that Hagen had handed over, and gave it to Anthony Coppola along with his bill.



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