mp.godfather-第80节

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　don't　worry；　you　won't　be　kissing　her　for　a　while　yet。〃　Both　doctor　and　Don　smiled　at　this　witticism。
　
　By　Sunday；　Michael　had　an　Alfa　Romeo；　battered　but　serviceable。　He　had　also　made　a　bus　trip　to　Palermo　to　buy　presents　for　the　girl　and　her　family。　He　had　learned　that　the　girl's　name　was　Apollonia　and　every　night　he　thought　of　her　lovely　face　and　her　lovely　name。　He　had　to　drink　a　good　deal　of　wine　to　get　some　sleep　and　orders　were　given　to　the　old　women　servants　in　the　house　to　leave　a　chilled　bottle　at　his　bedside。　He　drank。it　empty　every　night。
　
　On　Sunday；　to　the　tolling　of　church　bells　that　covered　all　of　Sicily；　he　drove　the　Alfa　Romeo　to　the　village　and　parked　it　just　outside　the　café。　Calo　and　Fabrizzio　were　in　the　back　seat　with　their　luparas　and　Michael　told　them　they　were　to　wait　in　the　café；　they　were　not　to　e　to　the　house。　The　café　was　closed　but　Vitelli　was　there　waiting　for　them；　leaning　against　the　railing　of　his　empty　terrace。
　
　They　shook　hands　all　around　and　Michael　took　the　three　packages；　the　presents；　and　trudged　up　the　hill　with　Vitelli　to　his　home。　This　proved　to　be　larger　than　the　usual　village　hut；　the　Vitellis　were　not　poverty…stricken。
　
　Inside　the　house　was　familiar　with　statues　of　the　Madonna　entombed　in　glass；　votive　lights　flickering　redly　at　their　feet。　The　two　sons　were　waiting；　also　dressed　in　their　Sunday　black。　They　were　two　sturdy　young　men　just　out　of　their　teens　but　liking　older　because　of　their　hard　work　on　the　farm。　The　mother　was　a　vigorous　woman；　as　stout　as　her　husband。　There　was　no　sign　of　the　girl。
　　
　After　the　introductions；　which　Michael　did　not　even　hear；　they　sat　in　the　room　that　might　possibly　have　been　a　living　room　or　just　as　easily　the　formal　dining　room。　It　was　cluttered　with　all　kinds　of　furniture　and　not　very　large　but　for　Sicily　it　was　middle…class　splendor。
　
　Michael　gave　Signor　Vitelli　and　Signora　Vitelli　their　presents。　For　the　father　it　was　a　gold　cigar…cutter；　for　the　mother　a　bolt　of　the　finest　cloth　purchasable　in　Palermo。　He　still　had　one　package　for　the　girl。　His　presents　were　received　with　reserved　thanks。　The　gifts　were　a　little　too　premature；　he　should　not　have　given　anything　until　his　second　visit。
　
　The　father　said　to　him；　in　man…to…man　country　fashion；　〃Don't　think　we're　so　of　no　account　to　wele　strangers　into　our　house　so　easily。　But　Don　Tommasino　vouched　for　you　personally　and　nobody　in　this　province　would　ever　doubt　the　word　of　that　good　man。　And　so　we　make　you　wele。　But　I　must　tell　you　that　if　your　intentions　are　serious　about　my　daughter；　we　will　have　to　know　a　little　more　about　you　and　your　family。　You　can　understand；　your　family　is　from　this　country。〃
　
　Michael　nodded　and　said　politely；　〃I　will　tell　you　anything　you　wish　to　know　anytime。〃
　
　Signor　Vitelli　held　up　a　hand。　〃I'm　not　a　nosy　man。　Let's　see　if　it's　necessary　first。　Right　now　you're　wele　in　my　house　as　a　friend　of　Don　Tommasino。〃
　
　Despite　the　drug　painted　inside　his　nose；　Michael　actually　smelled　the　girl's　presence　in　the　room。　He　turned　and　she　was　standing　in　the　arched　doorway　that　led　to　the　back　of　the　house。　The　smell　was　of　fresh　flowers　and　lemon　blossoms　but　she　wore　nothing　in　her　hair　of　jet　black　curls；　nothing　on　her　plain　severe　black　dress；　obviously　her　Sunday　best。　She　gave　him　a　quick　glance　and　a　tiny　smile　before　she　cast　her　eyes　down　demurely　and　sat　down　next　to　her　mother。
　
　Again　Michael　felt　that　shortness　of　breath；　that　flooding　through　his　body　of　something　that　was　not　so　much　desire　as　an　insane　possessiveness。　He　understood　for　the　first　time　the　classical　jealousy　of　the　Italian　male。　He　was　at　that　moment　ready　to　kill　anyone　who　touched　this　girl；　who　tried　to　claim　her；　take　her　away　from　him。　He　wanted　to　own　her　as　wildly　as　a　miser　wants　to　own　gold　coins；　as　hungrily　as　a　sharecropper　wants　to　own　his　own　land。　Nothing　was　going　to　stop　him　from　owning　this　girl；　possessing　her；　locking　her　in　a　house　and　keeping　her　prisoner　only　for　himself。　He　didn't　want　anyone　even　to　see　her。　When　she　turned　to　smile　at　one　of　her　brothers　Michael　gave　that　young　man　a　murderous　look　without　even　realizing　it。　The　family　could　see　it　was　a　classical　case　of　the　〃thunderbolt〃　and　they　were　reassured。　This　young　man　would　be　putty　in　their　daughter's　hands　until　they　were　married。　After　that　of　course　things　would　change　but　it　wouldn't　matter。
　
　Michael　had　bought　himself　some　new　clothes　in　Palermo　and　was　no　longer　the　roughly　dressed　peasant；　and　it　was　obvious　to　the　family　that　he　was　a　Don　of　some　kind。　His　smashed　face　did　not　make　him　as　evil…looking　as　he　believed；　because　his　other　profile　was　so　handsome　it　made　the　disfigurement　interesting　even。　And　in　any　case　this　was　a　land　where　to　be　called　disfigured　you　had　to　pete　with　a　host　of　men　who　had　suffered　extreme　physical　misfortune。
　
　Michael　looked　directly　at　the　girl；　the　lovely　ovals　of　her　face。　Her　lips　now　he　could　see　were　almost　blue　so　dark　was　the　blood　pulsating　in　them。　He　said；　not　daring　to　speak　her　name；　〃I　saw　you　by　the　orange　groves　the　other　day。　When　you　ran　away。　I　hope　I　didn't　frighten　you？〃
　
　The　girl　raised　her　eyes　to　him　for　just　a　fraction。　She　shook　her　head。　But　the　loveliness　of　those　eyes　had　made　Michael　look　away。　The　mother　said　tartly；　〃Apollonia；　speak　to　the　poor　fellow；　he's　e　miles　to　see　you；〃　but　the　girl's　long　jet　lashes　remained　closed　like　wings　over　her　eyes。　Michael　handed　her　the　present　wrapped　in　gold　paper　and　the　girl　put　it　in　her　lap。　The　father　said；　〃Open　it；　girl；〃　but　her　hands　did　not　move。　Her　hands　were　small　and　brown；　an　urchin's　hands。　The　mother　reached　over　and　opened　the　package　impatiently；　yet　careful　not　to　tear　the　precious　paper。　The　red　velvet　jeweler's　box　gave　her　pause；　she　had　never　held　such　a　thing　in　her　hands　and　didn't　know　how　to　spring　its　catch。　But　she　got　it　open　on　pure　instinct　and　then　took　out　the　present。
　
　It　was　a　heavy　gold　chain　to　be　worn　as　a　necklace；　and　it　awed　them　not　only　because　of　its　obvious　value　but　because　a　gift　of　gold　in　this　society　was　also　a　statement　of　the　most　serious　intentions。　It　was　no　less　than　a　proposal　of　matrimony；　or　rather　the　signal　that　there　was　the　intention　to　propose　matrimony。　They　could　no　longer　doubt　the　seriousness　of　this　stranger。　And　they　could　not　doubt　his　substance。
　
　Apollonia　still　had　not　touched　her　present。　Her　mother　held　it　up　for　her　to　see　and　she　raised　those　long　lashes　for　a　moment　and　then　she　looked　directly　at　Michael；　her　doelike　brown　eyes　grave；　and　said；　〃Grazie。〃　It　was　the　first　time　he　had　heard　her　voice。
　
　It　had　all　the　velvety　softness　of　youth　and　shyness　and　it　set　Michael's　ears　ringing。　He　kept　looking　away　from　her　and　talking　to　the　father　and　mother　simply　because　looking　at　her　confused　him　so　much。　But　he　noticed　that　despite　the　conservative　looseness　of　her　dress　her　body　almost　shone　through　the　cloth　with　sheer　sensuality。　And　he　noticed　the　darkening　of　her　skin　blushing；　the　dark　creamy　skin；　going　darker　with　the　blood　surging　to　her　feet。
　
　Finally　Michael　rose　to　go　and　the　family　rose　too。　They　said　their　good…byes　formally；　the　girl　at　last　confronting　him　as　they　shook　hands；　and　he　felt　the　shock　of　her　skin　on　his　skin；　her　skin　warm　and　rough；　peasant　skin。　The　father　walked　down　the　hill　with　him　to　his　car　and　invited　him　to　Sunday　dinner　the　next　week。　Michael　nodded　but　he　knew　he　couldn't　wait　a　week　to　see　the　girl　again。
　
　He　didn't。　The　next　day；　without　his　shepherds；　he　drove　to　the　village　and　sat　on　the　garden　terrace　of　the　café　to　chat　with　her　father。　Signor　Vitelli　took　pity　on　him　and　sent　for　his　wife　and　daughter　to　e　down　to　the　café　to　join　them。　This　meeting　was　less　awkward。　The　girl　Apollonia　was　less　shy；　and　spoke　more。　She　was　dressed　in　her　everyday　print　frock　which　suited　her　coloring　much　better。
　
　The　next　day　the　same　thing　happened。　Only　this　time　Apollonia　was　wearing　the　gold　chain　he　had　given　her。　He　smiled　at　her　then；　knowing　that　this　was　a　signal　to　him。　He　walked　with　her　up　the　hill；　her　mother　close　behind　them。　But　it　was　impossible　for　the　two　young　people　to　keep　their　bodies　from　brushing　against　each　other　and　once　Apollonia　stumbled　and　fell　against　him　so　that　he　had　to　hold　her　and　her　body　so　warm　and　alive　in　his　hands　started　a　deep　wave　of　blood　rising　in　his　body。　They　could　not　see　the　mother　behind　them　smiling　because　her　daughter　was　a　mountain　goat　and　had　not　stumbled　on　this　path　since　she　was　an　infant　in　diapers。　And　smiling　because　this　was　the　only　way　this　young　man　was　going　to　get　his　hands　on　her　daughter　until　the　marriage。
　
　This　went　on　for　two　weeks。　Michael　brought　her　presents　every　time　he　came　and　gradually　she　became　less　shy。　But　they　could　never　meet　without　a　chaperone　being　present。　She　was　just　a　village　girl；　barely　literate；　（scanned　and　fully　proofed　by　iliter8）　with　no　idea　of　the　world；　but　she　had　a　freshness；　an　eagerness　for　life　that；　with　help　of　the　language　barrier；　made　her　seem　interesting。　Everything　went　very　swiftly　at　Michael's　request。　And　because　the　girl　was　not　only　fascinated　by　him　but　k