The Godfather

 “The Godfather” By Mario Puzo
 
70
look of fright and said impatiently, “You don’t have to be scared, I just want them here. 
Do whatever they tell you to do. If you wanta talk to me, get me on Pop’s special phone 
but don’t call me unless it’s really important. And don’t worry.” He went out of the house. 
Darkness had fallen and the December wind whipped through the mall. Sonny had no 
fear about stepping out into the night. All eight houses were owned by Don Corleone. At 
the mouth of the mall the two houses on either side were rented by family retainers with 
their own families and star boarders, single men who lived in the basement apartments. 
Of the remaining six houses that formed the rest of the half circle; one was inhabited by 
Tom Hagen and his family, his own, and the smallest and least ostentatious by the Don 
himself. The other three houses were given rent-free to retired friends of the Don with 
the understanding that they would be vacated whenever he requested. The 
harmless-looking mall was an impregnable fortress. 
All eight houses were equipped with floodlights which bathed the grounds around them 
and made the mall impossible to lurk in. Sonny went across the street to his father’s 
house and let himself inside with his own key. He yelled out, “Ma, where are you?” and 
his mother came out of the kitchen. Behind her rose the smell of frying peppers. Before 
she could say anything, Sonny took her by the arm and made her sit down. “I just got a 
call,” he said. “Now don’t get worried. Pop’s in the hospital, he’s hurt. Get dressed and 
get ready to get down there. I’ll have a car and a driver for you in a little while. OK?” 
His mother looked at him steadily for a moment and then asked in Italian, “Have they 
shot him?” 
Sonny nodded. His mother bowed her head for a moment. Then she went back into the 
kitchen. Sonny followed her. He watched her turn off the gas under the panful of 
peppers and then go out and up to the bedroom. He took peppers from the pan and 
bread from the basket on the table and made a sloppy sandwich with hot olive oil 
dripping from his fingers. He went into the huge corner room that was his father’s office 
and took the special phone from a locked cabinet box. The phone had been especially 
installed and was listed under a phony name and a phony address. The first person he 
called was Luca Brasi. There was no answer. Then he called the safety-valve 
caporegime in Brooklyn, a man of unquestioned loyalty to the Don. This man’s name 
was Tessio. Sonny told him what had happened and what he wanted. Tessio was to 
recruit fifty absolutely reliable men. He was to send guards to the hospital, he was to 
send men out to Long Beach to work here. Tessio asked, “Did they get Clemenza too?” 
Sonny said, “I don’t want to use Clemenza’s people right now.” Tessio understood 

---