“The Godfather” By Mario Puzo 159
California moonlight. “Fuck you,” he said gently, and they both laughed together like the
old days when they had both been equally young.
* * * When Johnny Fontane got word about the shooting of Don Corleone he not only worried
about his Godfather, but also wondered whether the financing for his movie was still
alive. He had wanted to go to New York to pay his respects to his Godfather in the
hospital but he had been told not to get any bad publicity, that was the last thing Don
Corleone would want. So he waited. A week later a messenger came from Tom Hagen.
The financing was still on but for only one picture at a time.
Meanwhile Johnny let Nino go his own way in Hollywood and California, and Nino was
doing all right with the young starlets. Sometimes Johnny called him up for a night out
together but never leaned on him. When they talked about the Don getting shot, Nino
said to Johnny, “You know, once I asked the Don for a job in his organization and he
wouldn’t give it to me. I was tired of driving a truck and I wanted to make a lot of dough.
You know what he told me? He says every man has only one destiny and that my
destiny was to be an artist. Meaning that I couldn’t be a racket guy.”
Johnny thought that one over. The Godfather must be just about the smartest guy in the
world. He’d known immediately that Nino could never make a racket guy, would only get
himself in trouble or get killed. Get killed with just one of his wisecracks. But how did the
Don know that he would be an artist? Because, goddamn it, he figured that someday I’d
help Nino. And how did he figure that? Because he would drop the word to me and I
would try to show my gratitude. Of course he never asked me to do it. He just let me
know it would make him happy if I did it. Johnny Fontane sighed. Now the Godfather
was hurt, in trouble, and he could kiss the Academy Award good-bye with Woltz working
against him and no help on his side. Only the Don had the personal contacts that could
apply pressure and the Corleone Family had other things to think about. Johnny had
offered to help, Hagen had given him a curt no.
Johnny was busy getting his own picture going. The author of the book he had starred in
had finished his new novel and came west on Johnny’s invitation, to talk it over without
agents or studios getting into the act. The second book was perfect for what Johnny
wanted. He wouldn’t have to sing, it had a good gutsy story with plenty of dames and
sex and it had a part that Johnny instantly recognized as tailor-made for Nino. The
character talked like Nino, acted like him, even looked like him. It was uncanny. All Nino