Genco Abbandando had run a long race with death, and now, vanquished, he

Lay exhausted on the raised bed. He was wasted away to no more than a skeleton,

And what had once been vigorous black hair had turned into obscene stringy

wisps. Don Corleone said cheerily, "Genco, dear friend, I have brought my sons

to pay their respects, and look, even Johnny, all the way from Hollywood."

The dying man raised his fevered eyes gratefully to the Don. He let the young

Men clasp his bony hand in their fleshy ones. His wife and daughters ranged

Themselves along his bed, kissing his cheek, taking his other hand in turn.

3 The Don pressed his old friend's hand. He said comfortingly, "Hurry up and

Get better and we'll take a trip back to Italy together to our old village. We'll play

boccie in front of the wineshop like our fathers before us."

The dying man shook his head. He motioned the young men and his family

Away from his bedside; with the other bony claw he hung fast to the Don. He tried

 

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To speak. The Don put his head down and then sat on the bedside chair. Genco

Abbandando was babbling about their childhood. Then his coal-black eyes

Became sly. He whispered. The Don bent closer. The others in the room were

Astonished to see tears running down Don Corleone's face as he shook his head.

The quavering voice grew louder, filling the room. With a tortured, superhuman

Effort, Abbandando lifted his head off his pillow, eyes unseeing, and pointed a

skeletal forefinger at the Don. "Godfather, Godfather," he called out blindly, "save

Me from death, I beg of you. My flesh is burning off my bones and I can feel the

Worms eating away my brain. Godfather, cure me, you have the power, dry the

Tears of my poor wife. In Corleone we played together as children and now will

you let me die when I fear hell for my sins?"

5 The Don was silent. Abbandando said, "It is your daughter's wedding day, you

cannot refuse me."

The Don spoke quietly, gravely, to pierce through the blasphemous delirium.

"Old friend," he said, "I have no such powers. If I did I would be more merciful

Than God, believe me. But don't fear death and don't fear hell. I will have a mass

Said for your soul every night and every morning. Your wife and your children will

pray for you. How can God punish you with so many pleas for mercy?"

The skeleton face took on a cunning expression that was obscene.

Abbandando said slyly, "It's been arranged then?"

8 When the Don answered, his voice was cold, without comfort. "You blaspheme.

Resign yourself."

Abbandando fell back on the pillow. His eyes lost their wild gleam of hope. The

Nurse came back into the room and started shooing them out in a very matter-of-

fact way. The Don got up but Abbandando put out his hand. "Godfather," he said,

"stay here with me and help me meet death. Perhaps if He sees you near me He

Will be frightened and leave me in peace. Or perhaps you can say a word, pull a

few strings, eh?" The dying man winked as if he were mocking the Don, now not

really serious. "You're brothers in blood, after all." Then, as if fearing the Don

would be offended, he clutched at his hand. "Stay with me, let me hold your hand.

We'll outwit that bastard as we've outwitted others. Godfather, don't betray me."

The Don motioned the other people out of the room. They left. He took the

Withered claw of Genco Abbandando in his own two broad hands. Softly,

Reassuringly, he comforted his friend, as they waited for death together. As if the

 

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Don could truly snatch the life of Genco Abbandando back from that most foul