Английский язык с Крестным Отцом
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without agents or studios getting into the act. The second book was perfect for what
Johnny wanted. He wouldn't have to sing, it had a good gutsy (отважный; сочный,
полнокровный, сильный) story with plenty of dames and sex and it had a part that
Johnny instantly recognized as tailor-made for Nino. The character talked like Nino,
acted like him, even looked like him. It was uncanny. All Nino would have to do would
be to get up on the screen and be himself.
Johnny worked fast. He found that he knew a lot more about production than he thought
he did, but he hired an executive producer, a man who knew his stuff but had trouble
finding work because of the blacklist. Johnny didn't take advantage but gave the man a
fair contract. "I expect you to save me more dough this way," he told the man frankly.
So he was surprised when the executive producer came to him and told him the union
rep (= representative –
tune – мелодия) of fifty thousand dollars. There were a lot of problems dealing with
overtime and hiring and the fifty thousand dollars would be well spent. Johnny debated
whether the executive producer was hustling him and then said, "Send the union guy to
me."
The union guy was Billy Goff. Johnny said to him, "I thought the union stuff was fixed
by my friends. I was told not to worry about it. At all."
Goff said, "Who told you that?"
Johnny said, "You know goddamn well who told me. I won't say his name but if he
tells me something that's it."
Goff said, "Things have changed. Your friend is in trouble and his word don't go this
far west anymore."
Johnny shrugged. "See me in a couple of days. OK?"
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Goff smiled. "Sure, Johnny," he said. "But calling in New York ain't going to help you."
But calling New York did help. Johnny spoke to Hagen at his office. Hagen told him
bluntly not to pay. "Your Godfather will be sore as hell if you pay that bastard a dime
(монета в 10 центов)," he told Johnny. "It will make the Don lose respect and right now
he can't afford that."
"Can I talk to the Don?" Johnny asked. "Will you talk to him? I gotta get the picture
rolling."
"Nobody can talk to the Don right now," Hagen said. "He's too sick. I'll talk to Sonny
about fixing things up. But I'll make the decision on this. Don't pay that smart bastard a
dime. If anything changes, I'll let you know."
Annoyed, Johnny hung up. Union trouble could add a fortune to making the film and
screw up the works generally. For a moment he debated slipping Goff the fifty grand on
the quiet. After all, the Don telling him something and Hagen telling him something and
giving him orders were two different things. But he decided to wait for a few days.
By waiting he saved fifty thousand dollars. Two nights later, Goff was found shot to
death in his home in Glendale. There was no more talk of union trouble. Johnny was a
little shaken by the killing. It was the first time the long arm of the Don had struck such a
lethal blow so close to him.
As the weeks went by and he became busier and busier with getting the script
(сценарий) ready, casting the movie and working out production details, Johnny
Fontane forgot about his voice, his not being able to sing. Yet when the Academy
Award nominations came out and he found himself one of the candidates, he was
depressed because he was not asked to sing one of the songs nominated for the Oscar
at the ceremony that would be televised nationally. But he shrugged it off and kept
working. He had no hope of winning the Academy Award now that his Godfather was no
longer able to put pressure on, but getting the nomination had some value.
The record he and Nino had cut, the one of Italian songs, was selling much better
than anything he had cut lately, but he knew that it was Nino's success more than his.
He resigned himself to never being able to again sing professionally.
Once a week he had dinner with Ginny and the kids. No matter how hectic
(лихорадочный,
things got he never skipped that duty. But he didn't sleep with Ginny. Meanwhile his
second wife had finagled a Mexican divorce and so he was a bachelor (холостяк
['bжtl]) again. Oddly enough he was not that frantic to bang starlets who would have
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been easy meat. He was too snobbish really. He was hurt that none of the young stars,
the actresses who were still on top, ever gave him a tumble (не проявляли к нему
интереса; to tumble – валиться вниз; понять что-либо /сленг/). But it was good to
work hard. Most nights he would go home alone, put his old records on the player, have
a drink and hum along with them for a few bars (несколько тактов). He had been good,
damn good. He hadn't realized how good he was. Even aside from the special voice,
which could have happened to anybody, he was good. He had been a real artist and
never knew it, and never knew how much he loved it. He'd ruined his voice with booze