“The Godfather” By Mario Puzo 294
was making a brutal joke. She said shortly, “It’s your child, do what you want.” And she
tried to hand him the bundle.
At this time the exhausted mother awoke and turned on her side to face them. She was
just in time to see Brasi thrust violently at the bundle, crushing the newborn infant
against Filomena’s chest. She called out weakly, “Luc, Luc, I’m sorry,” and Brasi turned
to face her.
It was terrible, Filomena said now. So terrible. They were like two mad animals. They
were not human. The hatred they bore each other blazed through the room. Nothing
else, not even the newborn infant, existed for them at that moment. And yet there was a
strange passion. A bloody, demonical lust so unnatural you knew they were damned
forever. Then Luca Brasi turned back to Filomena and said harshly, “Do what tell you, I’ll
make you rich.”
Filomena could not speak in her terror. She shook her head. Finally she managed to
whisper, “You do it, you’re the father, do it if you like.” But Brasi didn’t answer. Instead
he drew a knife from inside his shirt. “I’ll cut your throat,” he said.
She must have gone into shock then because the next thing she remembered they were
all standing in the basement of the house in front of a square iron furnace. Filomena
was still holding the blanketed baby, which had not made a sound. (Maybe if it had
cried, maybe if I had been shrewd enough to pinch it, Filomena said, that monster would
have shown mercy.)
One of the men must have opened the furnace door, the fire now was visible. And then
she was alone with Brasi in that basement with its sweating pipes, its mousy odor. Brasi
had his knife out again. And there could be no doubting that he would kill her. There
were the flames, there were Brasi’s eyes. His face was the gargoyle of the devil, it was
not human, it was not sane: He pushed her toward the open furnace door.
At this point Filomena fell silent. She folded her bony hands in her lap and looked
directly at Michael. He knew what she wanted, how she wanted to tell him, without using
her voice. He asked gently, “Did you do it?” She nodded.
It was only after another glass of wine and crossing herself and muttering a prayer that
she continued her story. She was given a bundle of money and driven home. She
understood that if she uttered a word about what had happened she would be killed. But
two days later Brasi murdered the young Irish girl, the mother of the infant, and was
arrested by the police. Filomena, frightened out of her wits, went to the Godfather and