Английский язык с Крестным Отцом
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Out in the corridor, Valenti asked him, "What was the operation for? Anything
serious?"
Jules shook his head. "Just a little female plumbing. Absolutely routine, please believe
me. I'm more concerned than you are, I hope to marry the girl."
They were looking at him appraisingly so he asked, "How did you find out she was in
the hospital?"
"Freddie called us and asked us to look in," Fontane said. "We all grew up in the same
neighborhood. Lucy was maid of honor when Freddie's sister got married."
"Oh," Jules said. He didn't let on that he knew the whole story, perhaps because they
were so cagey (уклончивый) about protecting Lucy and her affair with Sonny.
As they walked down the corridor, Jules said to Fontane, "I have visiting doctor's
privileges here, why don't you let me have a look at your throat?"
Fontane shook his head. "I'm in a hurry."
Nino Valenti said, "That's a million-dollar throat, he can't have cheap doctors looking
down it." Jules saw Valenti was grinning at him, obviously on his side.
Jules said cheerfully, "I'm no cheap doctor. I was the brightest young surgeon and
diagnostician on the East Coast until they got me on an abortion rap (легкий
ответственность /за проступок/, обвинение, наказание /сленг/)."
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As he had known it would, that made them take him seriously. By admitting his crime
he inspired belief in his claim of high competence. Valenti recovered first. "If Johnny
can't use you, I got a girl friend I want you to look at, not at her throat though."
Fontane said to him nervously, "How long will you take?"
"Ten minutes," Jules said. It was a lie but he believed in telling lies to people. Truth
telling and medicine just didn't go together except in dire (ужасный, страшный;
крайний) emergencies (emergency [i‘m:dGns] – непредвиденный случай, крайняя
необходимость), if then.
"OK," Fontane said. His voice was darker, hoarser, with fright.
Jules recruited a nurse and a consulting room. It didn't have everything he needed but
there was enough. In less than ten minutes he knew there was a growth on the vocal
chords, that was easy. Tucker, that incompetent sartorial (портняжный, портновский)
son of a bitch of a Hollywood phony, should have been able to spot it. Christ, maybe the
guy didn't even have a license and if he did it should be taken away from him. Jules
didn't pay any attention to the two men now. He picked up the phone and asked for the
throat man at the hospital to come down. Then he swung around and said to Nino
Valenti, "I think it might be a long wait for you, you'd better leave."
Fontane stared at him in utter disbelief. "You son of a bitch, you think you're going to
keep me here? You think you're going to fuck around with my throat?"
Jules, with more pleasure than he would have thought possible, gave it to him straight
between the eyes. "You can do whatever you like," he said. "You've got a growth of
some sort on your vocal chords, in your larynx. If you stay here the next few hours, we
can nail it down, whether it's malignant or nonmalignant. We can make a decision for
surgery or treatment. I can give you the whole story. I can give you the name of a top
specialist in America and we can have him out here on the plane tonight, with your
money that is, and if I think it necessary. But you can walk out of here and see your
quack (знахарь;
get referred to somebody incompetent. Then if it's malignant and gets big enough they'll
cut out your whole larynx or you'll die. Or you can just sweat. Stick here with me and we
can get it all squared away in a few hours. You got anything more important to do?"
Valenti said, "Let's stick around, Johnny, what the hell. I'll go down the hall and call
the studio. I won't tell them anything, just that we're held up. Then I'll come back here
and keep you company."
It proved to be a very long afternoon but a rewarding one. The diagnosis of the staff
throat man was perfectly sound as far as Jules could see after the X rays and swab
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(мазок /мед./) analysis. Halfway through, Johnny Fontane, his mouth soaked with
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iodine, retching (to retch – рыгать, тужиться /при рвоте/) over the roll of gauze stuck in
his mouth, tried to quit. Nino Valenti grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him
back into a chair. When it was all over Jules grinned at Fontane and said, "Warts."
Fontane didn't grasp it. Jules said again. "Just some warts. We'll slice them right off
like skin off baloney (= Bologna-sausage – болонская /копченая/ колбаса). In a few
months you'll be OK."
Valenti let out a yell but Fontane was still frowning. "How about singing afterward, how
will it affect my singing?"