JК
The Sicilian :: Puzo Mario
Страница: 241 из 278Their spies are everywhere. What do you plan for Guiliano? A wedding, a birthday party? A funeral? What kind of foolishness do you tell us? Do you think we are all donkeys here in Sicily?" He said this in a dangerous tone.
"I'm not going to tell you my plan of escape," Michael said. "You can trust me or not as you choose. Tell me where you will deliver Guiliano and I will be there. Don't tell me and tomorrow night I will be safe in America, while you and Guiliano are still running for your lives."
Pisciotta laughed and said, "Spoken like a true Sicilian – you haven't wasted the years in this country." He sighed. "I can't believe it will finally be over," he said. "Almost seven years of fighting and running, of betrayals and killing. But we were the Kings of Montelepre, Turi and myself – there was glory enough for both of us. He was for the poor and I was for myself. I never believed at first, but in our second year as outlaws, he proved it to me and all of our band. Remember I am his second in command, his cousin, the man he trusts most. I wear the belt with the golden buckle as he does; he gave it to me. But I seduced the young daughter of a farmer in Partinico and made her pregnant. Her father went to Guiliano and told him the story. Do you know what Turi did? He tied me to a tree and beat me with a whip. Not in front of the farmer or any of our men. He would never expose me to such disrespect. It was our secret. But I knew if I disobeyed his orders again, he would kill me. That is our Turi." His hand shook as he brought it to his mouth. In the fading moonlight his tiny mustache gleamed like a thin sliver of black bone.
Michael thought, What a strange story. Why does he tell it to me?
They went back into the bedroom and Michael closed the shutters. Pisciotta picked up the severed head of the black Madonna off the floor and handed it to Michael. "I threw this on the floor to wake you," he said. "The Testament was inside, isn't that true?"
"Yes," Michael said.
Pisciotta's face sagged. "Maria Lombardo lied to me. I asked her if she had it. She said no. Then she gave it to you in front of my very eyes." He laughed bitterly. "I have been like a son to her." He paused for a moment and then said, "And she has been like a mother to me."
Pisciotta asked for another cigarette. There was still some wine left in the jug on the night table. Michael poured a glass for both of them, and Pisciotta drank it gratefully. "Thank you," he said. "Now we must get down to our business. I will turn over Guiliano to you outside the town of Castelvetrano.
"I'm not going to tell you my plan of escape," Michael said. "You can trust me or not as you choose. Tell me where you will deliver Guiliano and I will be there. Don't tell me and tomorrow night I will be safe in America, while you and Guiliano are still running for your lives."
Pisciotta laughed and said, "Spoken like a true Sicilian – you haven't wasted the years in this country." He sighed. "I can't believe it will finally be over," he said. "Almost seven years of fighting and running, of betrayals and killing. But we were the Kings of Montelepre, Turi and myself – there was glory enough for both of us. He was for the poor and I was for myself. I never believed at first, but in our second year as outlaws, he proved it to me and all of our band. Remember I am his second in command, his cousin, the man he trusts most. I wear the belt with the golden buckle as he does; he gave it to me. But I seduced the young daughter of a farmer in Partinico and made her pregnant. Her father went to Guiliano and told him the story. Do you know what Turi did? He tied me to a tree and beat me with a whip. Not in front of the farmer or any of our men. He would never expose me to such disrespect. It was our secret. But I knew if I disobeyed his orders again, he would kill me. That is our Turi." His hand shook as he brought it to his mouth. In the fading moonlight his tiny mustache gleamed like a thin sliver of black bone.
Michael thought, What a strange story. Why does he tell it to me?
They went back into the bedroom and Michael closed the shutters. Pisciotta picked up the severed head of the black Madonna off the floor and handed it to Michael. "I threw this on the floor to wake you," he said. "The Testament was inside, isn't that true?"
"Yes," Michael said.
Pisciotta's face sagged. "Maria Lombardo lied to me. I asked her if she had it. She said no. Then she gave it to you in front of my very eyes." He laughed bitterly. "I have been like a son to her." He paused for a moment and then said, "And she has been like a mother to me."
Pisciotta asked for another cigarette. There was still some wine left in the jug on the night table. Michael poured a glass for both of them, and Pisciotta drank it gratefully. "Thank you," he said. "Now we must get down to our business. I will turn over Guiliano to you outside the town of Castelvetrano.