Английский язык с Крестным Отцом

Finally Michael said, "There's no sense getting you out of jail and then just leaving you

high and dry. I can arrange some work for you. I have interests out in Las Vegas, with

your experience you could be a hotel security man. Or if there's some little business

you'd like to go into, I can put a word in with the banks to advance you a loan for

capital."

Neri was overcome with grateful embarrassment. He proudly refused and then added,

"I have to stay under the jurisdiction of the court anyway with the suspended sentence."

Michael said briskly, "That's all crap detail, I can fix that. Forget about that supervision

and just so the banks won't get choosy I'll have your yellow sheet pulled."

The yellow sheet was a police record of criminal offenses committed by any individual.

It was usually submitted to a judge when he was considering what sentence to give a

convicted criminal. Neri had been long enough on the police force to know that many

hoodlums going up for sentencing had been treated leniently by the judge because a

clean yellow sheet had been submitted by the bribed Police Records Department. So he

was not too surprised that Michael Corleone could do such a thing; he was, however,

surprised that such trouble would be taken on his account.

"If I need help, I'll get in touch," Neri said.

232

"Good, good," Michael said. He looked at his watch and Neri took this for his dismissal.

He rose to go. Again he was surprised.

"Lunchtime," Michael said. "Come on and eat with me and my family. My father said

he'd like to meet you. We'll walk over to his house. My mother should have some fried

peppers and eggs and sausages. Real Sicilian style."

That afternoon was the most agreeable Albert Neri had spent since he was a small

boy, since the days before his parents had died when he was only fifteen. Don Corleone

was at his most amiable and was delighted when he discovered that Neri's parents had

originally come from a small village only a few minutes from his own. The talk was good,

the food was delicious, the wine robustly red. Neri was struck by the thought that he

was finally with his own true people. He understood that he was only a casual guest but

he knew he could find a permanent place and be happy in such a world.

Michael and the Don walked him out to his car. The Don shook his hand and said.

"You're a fine fellow. My son Michael here, I've been teachinig him the olive business,

I'm getting old, I want to retire, And he comes to me and he says he wants to interfere in

your little affair. I tell him to just learn about the olive oil. But he won't leave me alone.

He says, here is this fine fellow, a Sicilian and they are doing this dirty trick to him. He

kept on, he gave me no peace until I interested myself it it. I tell you this to tell you that

he was right. Now that I've met you, I'm glad we took the trouble. So if we can do

anything further for you, just ask the favor. Understand? We're at your service."

(Remembering the Don's kindness, Neri wished the great man was still alive to see the

service that would be done this day.)

It took Neri less than three days to make up his mind. He understood he was being

courted but understood more. That the Corleone Family approved that act of his which

society condemned and had punished him for, The Corleone Family valued him, society

did not. He understood that he would be happier in the world the Corleones had created

than in the world outside. And he understood that the Corleone Family was the more

powerful, within its narrower limits.

He visited Michael again and put his cards on the table. He did not want to work in

Vegas but he would take a job with the Family in New York. He made his loyalty clear.

Michael was touched, Neri could see that. It was arranged. But Michael insisted that

Neri take a vacation first, down in Miami at the Family hotel there, all expenses paid and

a month's salary in advance so he could have the necessary cash to enjoy himself

properly.

233

That vacation was Neri's first taste of luxury. People at the hotel took special care of

him, saying, "Ah, you're a friend of Michael Corleone." The word had been passed along.

He was given one of the plush suites, not the grudging small room a poor relation might

be fobbed off with. The man running the nightclub in the hotel fixed him up with some

beautiful girls. When Neri got back to New York he had a slightly different view on life in

general.

He was put in the Clemenza regime and tested carefully by that masterful personnel

man. Certain precautions had to be taken. He had, after all, once been a policeman. But

Neri's natural ferocity overcame whatever scruples he might have had at being on the

other side of the fence. In less than a year he had "made his bones." He could never

turn back.

Clemenza sang his praises. Neri was a wonder, the new Luca Brasi. He would be

better than Luca, Clemenza bragged. After all, Neri was his discovery. Physically the

man was a marvel. His reflexes and coordination such that he could have been another