“The Godfather” By Mario Puzo 8
The third son, Michael Corleone, did not stand with his father and his two brothers but
sat at a table in the most secluded corner of the garden. But even there he could not
escape the attentions of the family friends.
Michael Corleone was the youngest son of the Don and the only child who had refused
the great man’s direction. He did not have the heavy, Cupid-shaped face of the other
children, and his jet black hair was straight rather than curly. His skin was a clear
olive-brown that would have been called beautiful in a girl. He was handsome in a
delicate way. Indeed there had been a time whey the Don had worried about his
youngest son’s masculinity. A worry that was put to rest when Michael Corleone
became seventeen years old.
Now this youngest son sat at a table in the extreme corner of the garden to proclaim his
chosen alienation from father and family. Beside him sat the American girl everyone had
heard about but whom no one had seen until this day. He had, of course, shown the
proper respect and introduced her to everyone at the wedding, including his family. They
were not impressed with her. She was too thin, she was too fair, her face was too
sharply intelligent for a woman, her manner too free for a maiden. Her name, too, was
outlandish to their ears; she called herself Kay Adams. If she had told them that her
family had settled in America two hundred years ago and her name was a common one,
they would have shrugged.
Every guest noticed that the Don paid no particular attention to this third son. Michael
had been his favorite before the war and obviously the chosen heir to run the family
business when the proper moment came. He had all the quiet force and intelligence of
his great father, the born instinct to act in such a way that men had no recourse but to
respect him. But when World War II broke out, Michael Corleone volunteered for the
Marine Corps. He defied his father’s express command when he did so.
Don Corleone had no desire, no intention, of letting his youngest son be killed in the
service of a power foreign to himself. Doctors had been bribed, secret arrangements
had been made. A great deal of money had been spent to take the proper precautions.
But Michael was twenty-one years of age and nothing could be done against his own
willfulness. He enlisted and fought over the Pacific Ocean. He became a Captain and
won medals. In 1944 his picture was printed in Life magazine with a photo layout of his
deeds. A friend had shown Don Corleone the magazine (his family did not dare), and
the Don had grunted disdainfully and said, “He performs those miracles for strangers.”