The Godfather

 “The Godfather” By Mario Puzo
 
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Tina, up to shower by herself. He never could make love to another woman after he’d 
had a fight with Virginia. 
He went into the glass-walled patio living room that held a piano. When singing with the 
band he had fooled around with the piano just for laughs, so he could pick out a song in 
a fake moonlight-soft ballad style. He sat down now and hummed along a bit with the 
piano, very softly, muttering a few words but not really singing. Before he knew it Tina 
was in the living room making him a drink and sitting beside him at the piano. He played 
a few tunes and she hummed with him. He left her at the piano and went up to take his 
shower. In the shower he sang short phrases, more like speaking. He got dressed and 
went back down. Tina was still alone; Nino was really working his girl over or getting 
drunk. 
Johnny sat down at the piano again while Tina wandered off outside to watch the pool. 
He started singing one of his old songs. There was no burning in his throat. The tones 
were coming out muted but with proper body. He looked at the patio. Tina was still out 
there, the glass door was closed, she wouldn’t hear him. For some reason he didn’t 
want anybody to hear him. He started off fresh on an old ballad that was his favorite. He 
sang full out as if he were singing in public, letting himself go, waiting for the familiar 
burning rasp in his throat but there was none. He listened to his voice, it was diferent 
somehow, but he liked it. It was darker, it was a man’s voice, not a kid’s, rich he thought, 
dark rich. He finished the song easing up and sat there at the piano thinking about it. 
Behind him Nino said, “Not bad, old buddy, not bad at all.” 
Johnny swiveled his body around. Nino was standing in the doorway, alone. His girl 
wasn’t with him. Johnny was relieved. He didn’t mind Nino hearing him. 
“Yeah,” Johnny said. “Let’s get rid of those two broads. Send them home.” 
Nino said, “You send them home. They’re nice kids, I’m not gonna hurt their feelings. 
Besides I just banged mine twice. How would it look if I sent her away without even 
giving her dinner?” The hell with it, Johnny thought. Let the girls listen even if he 
sounded lousy. He called up a band leader he knew in Palm Springs and asked him to 
send over a mandolin for Nino. The band leader protested, “Hell, nobody plays a 
mandolin in California.” Johnny yelled, “Just get one.” 
The house was loaded with recording equipment and Johnny had the two girls work the 
turn-off and volumes. After they had dinner, Johnny went to work. He had Nino playing 
the mandolin as accompaniment and sang all his old songs. He sang them all the way 

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