Английский язык с Крестным Отцом
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money as a producer anyhow."
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Johnny looked at her curiously and said, "I'm a singer. I love to sing. What's being old
got to do with that?"
Virginia was impatient. "I never liked your singing anyway. Now that you've shown you
can make movies, I'm glad you can't sing anymore."
They were both surprised when Johnny said with fury, "That's a fucking lousy thing to
say." He was shaken. How could Virginia feel like that, how could she dislike him so
much?
Virginia smiled at his being hurt and because it was so outrageous that he should be
angry at her she said, "How do you think I felt when all those girls came running after
you because of the way you sang? How would you feel if I went ass-naked down the
street to get men running after me? That's what your singing was and I used to wish
you'd lose your voice and could never sing again. But that was before we got divorced."
Johnny finished his drink. "You don't understand a thing. Not a damn thing." He went
into the kitchen and dialed Nino's number. He quickly arranged for them both to go
down to Palm Springs for the weekend and gave Nino the number of a girl to call, a real
fresh young beauty he'd been meaning to get around to. "She'll have a friend for you,"
Johnny said. "I'll be at your place in an hour."
Virginia gave him a cool good-bye when he left. He didn't give a damn, it was one of
the few times he was angry with her. The hell with it, he'd just tear loose for the
weekend and get all the poison out of his system.
Sure enough, everything was fine down in Palm Springs. Johnny used his own house
down there, it was always kept open and staffed this time of year. The two girls were
young enough to be great fun and not too rapacious for some kind of favor. Some
people came over to keep them company at the pool until suppertime. Nino went to his
room with his girl to get ready for supper and a quick bang while he was still warm from
the sun. Johnny wasn't in the mood, so he sent his girl, a short bandbox blonde named
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
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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 different
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 out, not nursing his voice at all. His throat was fine, he felt that he could sing
forever. In the months he had not been able to sing he had often thought about singing,
planned out how he would phrase lyrics differently now than as a kid. He had sung the