The Godfather

 “The Godfather” By Mario Puzo
 
103
visit the hospital so late. Stay in the old man’s room. Lock the door from the inside. I’ll 
have some men there inside of fifteen minutes, soon as I make some calls. Just sit tight 
and don’t panic. OK, kid?” 
“I won’t panic,” Michael said. For the first time since it had all started he felt a furious 
anger rising in him, a cold hatred for his father’s enemies. 
He hung up the phone and rang the buzzer for the nurse. He decided to use his own 
judgment and disregard Sonny’s orders. When the nurse came in he said, “I don’t want 
you to get frightened, but we have to move my father right away. To another room or 
another floor. Can you disconnect all these tubes so we can wheel the bed out?” 
The nurse said, “That’s ridiculous. We have to get permission from the doctor.” 
Michael spoke very quickly. “You’ve read about my father in the papers. You’ve seen 
that there’s no one here tonight to guard him. Now I’ve just gotten word some men will 
come into the hospital to kill him. Please believe me and help me.” He-could be 
extraordinarily persuasive when he wanted to be. 
The nurse said, “We don’t have to disconnect the tubes. We can wheel the stand with 
the bed.” 
“Do you have an empty room?” Michael whispered. 
“At the end of the hall,” the nurse said. 
It was done in a matter of moments, very quickly and very efficiently. Then Michael said 
to the nurse, “Stay here with him until help comes. If you’re outside at your station you 
might get hurt.” 
At that moment he heard his father’s voice from the bed, hoarse but full of strength, 
“Michael, is it you? What happened, what is it?” 
Michael leaned over the bed. He took his father’s hand in his. “It’s Mike,” he said. “Don’t 
be afraid. Now listen, don’t make any noise at all, especially if somebody calls out your 
name. Some people want to kill you, understand? But I’m here so don’t be afraid.” 
Don Corleone, still not fully conscious of what had happened to him the day before, in 
terrible pain, yet smiled benevolently on his youngest son, wanting to tell him, but it was 
too much effort, “Why should I be afraid now? Strange men have come to kill me ever 
since I was twelve years old.”