mp.godfather-第41节

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d　like　warm　honey　with　pepper　mixed　in　it；　her　dark　brown　skin　was　rich；　creamy；　and　she　had　been　as　sweet　as　God　had　ever　made　any　woman　and　she　had　been　a　virgin。
　
　And　the　other　guys　were　always　talking　about　blow　jobs；　this　and　other　variations；　and　he　really　didn't　enjoy　that　stuff　so　much。　He　never　liked　a　girl　that　much　after　they　tried　it　that　way；　it　just　didn't　satisfy　him　right。　He　and　his　second　wife　had　finally　not　got　along；　because　she　preferred　the　old　sixty…nine　too　much　to　a　point　where　she　didn't　want　anything　else　and　he　had　to　fight　to　stick　it　in。　She　began　making　fun　of　him　and　calling　him　a　square　and　the　word　got　around　that　he　made　love　like　a　kid。　Maybe　that　was　why　that　girl　last　night　had　turned　him　down。　Well；　the　hell　with　it；　she　wouldn't　be　too　great　in　the　sack　anyway。　You　could　tell　a　girl　who　really　liked　to　fuck　and　they　were　always　the　best。　Especially　the　ones　who　hadn't　been　at　it　too　long。　What　he　really　hated　were　the　ones　who　had　started　screwing　at　twelve　and　were　all　fucked　out　by　the　time　they　were　twenty　and　just　going　through　the　motions　and　some　of　them　were　the　prettiest　of　all　and　could　fake　you　out。
　
　Ginny　brought　coffee　and　cake　into　his　bedroom　and　put　it　on　the　long　table　in　the　sitting　room　part。　He　told　her　simply　that　Hagen　was　helping　him　put　together　the　money　credit　for　a　producing　package　and　she　was　excited　about　that。　He　would　be　important　again。　But　she　had　no　idea　of　how　powerful　Don　Corleone　really　was　so　she　didn't　understand　the　significance　of　Hagen　ing　from　New　York。　He　told　her　Hagen　was　also　helping　with　legal　details。
　
　When　they　had　finished　the　coffee　be　told　her　he　was　going　to　work　that　night；　and　make　phone　calls　and　plans　for　the　future。　〃Half　of　all　this　will　be　in　the　kids'　names；〃　he　told　her。　She　gave　him　a　grateful　smile　and　kissed　him　good　night　before　she　left　his　room。
　
　There　was　a　glass　dish　full　of　his　favorite　monogrammed　cigarettes；　a　humidor　with　pencil…thin　black　Cuban　cigars　on　his　writing　desk。　Johnny　tilted　back　and　started　making　calls。　His　brain　was　really　whirring　along。　He　called　the　author　of　the　book；　the　best…selling　novel；　on　which　his　new　film　was　based。　The　author　was　a　guy　his　own　age　who　had　e　up　the　hard　way　and　was　now　a　celebrity　in　the　literary　world。　He　had　e　out　to　Hollywood　expecting　to　be　treated　like　a　wheel　and；　like　most　authors；　had　been　treated　like　shit。　Johnny　had　seen　the　humiliation　of　the　author　one　night　at　the　Brown　Derby。　The　writer　had　been　fixed　up　with　a　well…known　bosomy　starlet　for　a　date　on　the　town　and　a　sure　shack…up　later。　But　while　they　were　at　dinner　the　starlet　had　deserted　the　famous　author　because　a　ratty…looking　movie　ic　had　waggled　his　finger　at　her。　That　had　given　the　writer　the　right　slant　on　just　who　was　who　in　the　Hollywood　pecking　order。　It　didn't　matter　that　his　book　had　made　him　world　famous。　A　starlet　would　prefer　the　crummiest；　the　rattiest；　the　phoniest　movie　wheel。
　
　Now　Johnny　called　the　author　at　his　New　York　home　to　thank　him　for　the　great　part　he　had　written　in　his　book　for　him。　He　flattered　the　shit　out　of　the　guy。　Then　casually　he　asked　him　how　he　was　doing　on　his　next　novel　and　what　it　was　all　about。　He　lit　a　cigar　while　the　author　told　him　about　a　specially　interesting　chapter　and　then　finally　said；　〃Gee；　I'd　like　to　read　it　when　you're　finished。　How　about　sending　me　a　copy？　Maybe　I　can　get　you　a　good　deal　for　it；　better　than　you　got　with　Woltz。〃
　
　The　eagerness　in　the　author's　voice　told　him　that　he　had　guessed　right。　Woltz　had　chiseled　the　guy；　given　him　peanuts　for　the　book。　Johnny　mentioned　that　he　might　be　in　New　York　right　after　the　holidays　and　would　the　author　want　to　e　and　have　dinner　with　some　of　his　friends。　〃I　know　a　few　good…looking　broads；〃　Johnny　said　jokingly。　The　author　laughed　and　said　OK。
　
　Next　Johnny　called　up　the　director　and　cameraman　on　the　film　he　had　just　finished　to　thank　them　for　having　helped　him　in　the　film。　He　told　them　confidentially　that　he　knew　Woltz　had　been　against　him　and　he　doubly　appreciated　their　help　and　that　if　there　was　ever　anything　he　could　do　for　them　they　should　just　call。
　
　Then　he　made　the　hardest　call　of　all；　the　one　to　Jack　Woltz。　He　thanked　him　for　the　part　in　the　picture　and　told　him　how　happy　he　would　be　to　work　for　him　anytime。　He　did　this　merely　to　throw　Woltz　off　the　track。　He　had　always　been　very　square；　very　straight。　In　a　few　days　Woltz　would　find　out　about　his　maneuvering　and　be　astounded　by　the　treachery　of　this　call；　which　was　exactly　what　Johnny　Fontane　wanted　him　to　feel。
　
　After　that　he　sat　at　the　desk　and　puffed　at　his　cigar。　There　was　whiskey　on　a　side　table　but　he　had　made　some　sort　of　promise　to　himself　and　Hagen　that　he　wouldn't　drink。　He　shouldn't　even　be　smoking。　It　was　foolish；　whatever　was　wrong　with　his　voice　probably　wouldn't　be　helped　by　knocking　off　drinking　and　smoking。　Not　too　much；　but　what　the　hell；　it　might　help　and　he　wanted　all　the　percentages　with　him；　now　that　he　had　a　fighting　chance。
　
　Now　with　the　house　quiet；　his　divorced　wife　sleeping；　his　beloved　daughters　sleeping；　he　could　think　back　to　that　terrible　time　in　his　life　when　he　had　deserted　them。　Deserted　them　for　a　whore　tramp　of　a　bitch　who　was　his　second　wife。　But　even　now　he　smiled　at　the　thought　of　her；　she　was　such　a　lovely　broad　in　so　many　ways　and；　besides；　the　only　thing　that　saved　his　life　was　the　day　that　he　had　made　up　his　mind　never　to　hate　a　woman　or；　more　specifically；　the　day　he　had　decided　he　could　not　afford　to　hate　his　first　wife　and　his　daughters；　his　girl　friends；　his　second　wife；　and　the　girl　friends　after　that；　right　up　to　Sharon　Moore　brushing　him　off　so　that　she　could　brag　about　refusing　to　screw　for　the　great　Johnny　Fontane。
　
　**********
　
　He　had　traveled　with　the　band　singing　and　then　he　had　bee　a　radio　star　and　a　star　of　the　movie　stage　shows　and　then　he　had　finally　made　it　in　the　movies。　And　in　all　that　time　he　had　lived　the　way　he　wanted　to；　screwed　the　women　he　wanted　to；　but　he　had　never　let　it　affect　his　personal　life。　Then　he　had　fallen　for　his　soon　to　be　second　wife；　Margot　Ashton；　he　had　gone　absolutely　crazy　for　her。　His　career　had　gone　to　hell；　his　voice　had　gone　to　hell；　his　family　life　had　gone　to　hell。　And　there　had　e　the　day　when　he　was　left　without　anything。
　
　The　thing　was；　he　had　always　been　generous　and　fair。　He　had　given　his　first　wife　everything　he　owned　when　he　divorced　her。　He　had　made　sure　his　two　daughters　would　get　a　piece　of　everything　he　made；　every　record；　every　movie；　every　club　date。　And　when　he　had　been　rich　and　famous　he　had　refused　his　first　wife　nothing。　He　had　helped　out　all　her　brothers　and　sisters；　her　father　and　mother；　the　girl　friends　she　had　gone　to　school　with　and　their　families。　He　had　never　been　a　stuck…up　celebrity。　He　had　sung　at　the　weddings　of　his　wife's　two　younger　sisters；　something　he　hated　to　do。　He　had　never　refused　her　anything　except　the　plete　surrender　of　his　own　personality。
　
　And　then　when　he　had　touched　bottom；　when　he　could　no　longer　get　movie　work；　when　he　could　no　longer　sing；　when　his　second　wife　had　betrayed　him；　he　had　gone　to　spend　a　few　days　with　Ginny　and　his　daughters。　He　had　more　or　less　flung　himself　on　her　mercy　one　night　because　he　felt　so　lousy。　That　day　he　had　heard　one　of　his　recordings　and　he　had　sounded　so　terrible　that　he　accused　the　song　technicians　of　sabotaging　the　record。　Until　finally　he　had　bee　convinced　that　that　was　what　his　voice　really　sounded　like。　He　had　smashed　the　master　record　and　refused　to　sing　anymore。　He　was　so　ashamed　that　he　had　not　sung　a　note　except　with　Nino　at　Connie　Corleone's　wedding。
　
　He　had　never　forgotten　the　look　on　Ginny's　face　when　she　found　out　about　all　his　misfortunes。　It　had　passed　over　her　face　only　for　a　second　but　that　was　enough　for　him　never　to　forget　it。　It　was　a　look　of　savage　and　joyful　satisfaction。　It　was　a　look　that　could　only　make　him　believe　that　she　had　contemptuously　hated　him　all　these　years。　She　quickly　recovered　and　offered　him　cool　but　polite　sympathy。　He　had　pretended　to　accept　it。　During　the　next　few　days　he　had　gone　to　see　three　of　the　girls　he　had　liked　the　most　over　the　years；　girls　he　had　remained　friends　with　and　sometimes　still　slept　with　in　a　radely　way；　girls　that　he　had　done　everything　in　his　power　to　help；　girls　to　whom　he　had　given　the　equivalent　of　hundreds　of　thousands　of　dollars　in　gifts　or　job　opportunities。　On　their　faces　he　had　caught　that　same　fleeting　look　of　savage　satisfaction。
　
　It　was　during　that　time　that　he　knew　he　had　to　make　a　decision。　He　could　bee　like　a　great　many　other　men　in　Hollywood；　successful　producers；　writers；　directors；　actors；　who　preyed　on　beautiful　women　with　lustful　hatred。　He　could　use　power　and　monetary　favors　grudgingly；　always　alert　for　treason；　always　believing　that　women　would　betray　and　desert　him；　adversaries　to　be　bested。　Or　he　could　refuse　to　hate　women　and　continue　to　believe　in　them。
　
　He　knew　he　could　not　afford　not　to　love　them；　that　something　of　his　spirit　would　die　if　he　did　not　continue　to　love　women　no　matter　how　treacherous　and　unfaithful　they　were。　It　didn't　matter　that　the　women　he　loved　most　in　the　world　were　secretly　glad