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"Oh, Jules, stop," Lucy said. "I thought doctors at least weren't as silly as other men."
Jules grinned at her. "I'm a Las Vegas doctor." He tickled the inside of her thigh and
was amazed how just a little thing like that could excite her so powerfully. It showed on
her face though she tried to hide it. She was really a very primitive, innocent girl. Then
why couldn't he make her come across (признаться, все выложить)? He had to figure
that one out and never mind the crap about a lost love that could never be replaced.
This was living tissue here under his hand and living tissue required other living tissue.
Dr. Jules Segal decided he would make the big push tonight at his apartment. He'd
wanted to make her come across without any trickery but if trickery there had to be, he
was the man for it. All in the interests of science of course. And, besides, this poor kid
was dying for it.
"Jules, stop, please stop," Lucy said. Her voice was trembling.
Jules was immediately contrite (сокрушающийся, кающийся ['kontraıt]). "OK, honey,"
he said. He put his head in her lap and using her soft thighs as a pillow, he took a little
nap. He was amused at her squirming (to squirm – извиваться, корчиться;
чувствовать неловкость, смущение), the heat that registered from her loins and when
she put her hand on his head to smooth his hair, he grasped her wrist playfully and held
it loverlike but really to feel her pulse. It was galloping. He'd get her tonight and he'd
solve the mystery, what the hell ever it was. Fully confident, Dr. Jules Segal fell asleep.
Lucy watched the people around the pool. She could never have imagined her life
would change so in less than two years. She never regretted her "foolishness" at
Connie Corleone's wedding. It was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to
her and she lived it over and over again in her dreams. As she lived over and over again
the months that followed.
Sonny had visited her once a week, sometimes more, never less. The days before
she saw him again her body was in torment (мука ['to:m∂nt]). Their passion for each
other was of the most elementary kind, undiluted (to dilute [‘daılju:t] – разжижать,
разбавлять) by poetry or any form of intellectualism. It was love of the coarsest nature,
a fleshly love, a love of tissue for opposing tissue.
When Sonny called to her he was coming she made certain there was enough liquor
in the apartment and enough food for supper and breakfast because usually he would
not leave until late the next morning. He wanted his fill (хотел насытиться) of her as
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she wanted her fill of him. He had his own key and when he came in the door she would
fly into his massive arms. They would both be brutally direct, brutally primitive. During
their first kiss they would be fumbling at each other's clothing and he would be lifting her
in the air, and she would be wrapping her legs around his huge thighs. They would be
making love standing up in the foyer of her apartment as if they had to repeat their first
act of love together, and then he would carry her so to the bedroom.
They would lie in bed making love. They would live together in the apartment for
sixteen hours, completely naked. She would cook for him, enormous meals. Somtimes
he would get phone calls obviously about business but she never even listened to the
words. She would be too busy toying with his body, fondling it, kissing it, burying her
mouth in it. Sometimes when he got up to get a drink and he walked by her, she
couldn't help reaching out to touch his naked body, hold him, make love to him as if
those special parts of his body were a plaything, a specially constructed, intricate
(запутанный, замысловатый, сложный ['ıntrıkıt]) but innocent toy revealing its known,
but still surprising ecstasies. At first she had been ashamed of these excesses on her
part but soon saw that they pleased her lover, that her complete sensual enslavement
to his body flattered him. In all this there was an animal innocence. They were happy
together.
When Sonny's father was gunned down in the street, she understood for the first time
that her lover might be in danger. Alone in her apartment, she did not weep, she wailed
aloud, an animal wailing (to wail – вопить, выть). When Sonny did not come to see her
for almost three weeks she subsisted on sleeping pills, liquor and her own anguish
(мука, боль, острая тоска). The pain she felt was physical pain, her body ached. When
he finally did come she held on to his body at almost every moment. After that he came
at least once a week until he was killed.
She learned of his death through the newspaper accounts and that very same night
she took a massive overdose of sleeping pills. For some reason, instead of killing, the
pills made her so ill that she staggered out into the hall of her apartment and collapsed
in front of the elevator door where she was found and taken to the hospital. Her
relationship to Sonny was not generally known so her case received only a few inches
in the tabloid (малоформатная газета со сжатым текстом; бульварная газета)
newspapers.
It was while she was in the hospital that Tom Hagen came to see her and console her.
It was Tom Hagen who arranged a job for her in Las Vegas working in the hotel run by
Sonny's brother Freddie. It was Tom Hagen who told her that she would receive an
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annuity (ежегодная рента [∂'nju:ıtı]) from the Corleone Family, that Sonny had made
provisions for her. He had asked her if she was pregnant, as if that were the reason for
her taking the pills and she had told him no. He asked her if Sonny had come to see her
that fatal night or had called that he would come to see her and she told him no, that
Sonny had not called. That she was always home waiting for him when she finished
working. And she had told Hagen the truth. "He's the only man I could ever love," she
said. "I can't love anybody else." She saw him smile a little but he also looked surprised.
"Do you find that so unbelievable?" she asked. "Wasn't he the one who brought you
home when you were a kid?"
"He was a different person," Hagen said, "he grew up to be a different kind of man."
"Not to me," Lucy said. "Maybe to everybody else, but not to me." She was still too
weak to explain how Sonny had never been anything but gentle with her. He'd never
been angry with her, never even irritable or nervous.
Hagen made all the arrangements for her to move to Las Vegas. A rented apartment
was waiting, he took her to the airport himself and he made her promise that if she ever
felt lonely or if things didn't go right, she would call him and he would help her in any
way he could.
Before she got on the plane she asked him hesitantly, "Does Sonny's father know
what you're doing?"
Hagen smiled, "I'm acting for him as well as myself. He's old-fashioned in these things
and he would never go against the legal wife of his son. But he feels that you were just
a young girl and Sonny should have known better. And your taking all those pills shook
everybody up." He didn't explain how incredible it was to a man like the Don that any
person should try suicide.
Now, after nearly eighteen months in Las Vegas, she was surprised to find herself
almost happy. Some nights she dreamed about Sonny and lying awake before dawn
continued her dream with her own caresses until she could sleep again. She had not
had a man since. But the life in Vegas agreed with her. She went swimming in the hotel
pools, sailed on Lake Mead and drove through the desert on her day off. She became
thinner and this improved her figure. She was still voluptuous but more in the American
than the old Italian style. She worked in the public relations section of the hotel as a
receptionist and had nothing to do with Freddie though when he saw her he would stop
and chat a little. She was surprised at the change in Freddie. He had become a ladies'
man, dressed beautifully, and seemed to have a real flair (чутье) for running a gambling
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resort. He controlled the hotel side, something not usually done by casino owners. With
the long, very hot summer seasons, or perhaps his more active sex life, he too had
become thinner and Hollywood tailoring made him look almost debonair
(жизнерадостный, веселый [deb∂’nε∂]) in a deadly sort of way.
It was after six months that Tom Hagen came out to see how she was doing. She had
been receiving a check for six hundred dollars a month, every month, in addition to her
salary. Hagen explained that this money had to be shown as coming from some place
and asked her to sign complete powers of attorney so that he could channel the money
properly. He also told her that as a matter of form she would be listed as owner of five
"points" in the hotel in which she worked. She would have to go through all the legal
formalities required by the Nevada laws but everything would be taken care of for her
and her own personal inconvenience would be at a minimum. However she was not to
discuss this arrangement with anyone without his consent. She would be protected
legally in every way and her money every month would be assured. If the authorities or
any law-enforcement (enforcement – давление, принуждение; принудительный)
agencies ever questioned her, she was to simply refer them to her lawyer and she
would not be bothered any further.
Lucy agreed. She understood what was happening but had no objections to how she
was being used. It seemed a reasonable favor. But when Hagen asked her to keep her
eyes open around the hotel, keep an eye on Freddie and on Freddie's boss, the man
who owned and operated the hotel, as a major stockholder (акционер), she said to him,
"Oh, Tom, you don't want me to spy on Freddie?"
Hagen smiled. "His father worries about Freddie. He's in fast company with Moe
Greene and we just want to make sure he doesn't get into any trouble." He didn't bother
to explain to her that the Don had backed the building of this hotel in the desert of Las
Vegas not only to supply a haven for his son, but to get a foot in the door for bigger
operations.
It was shortly after this interview that Dr. Jules Segal came to work as the hotel
physician. He was very thin, very handsome and charming and seemed very young to
be a doctor, at least to Lucy. She met him when a lump (опухоль, шишка) grew above
her wrist on her forearm. She worried about it for a few days, then one morning went to
the doctor's suite of offices in the hotel. Two of the show girls from the chorus line were
in the waiting room, gossiping with each other. They had the blond peach-colored
prettiness Lucy always envied. They looked angelic. But one of the girls was saying, "I
swear if I have another dose I'm giving up dancing."
135
When Dr. Jules Segal opened his office door to motion one of the show girls inside,
Lucy was tempted to leave, and if it had been something more personal and serious she
would have. Dr. Segal was wearing slacks (широкие брюки) and an open shirt. The
horn-rimmed glasses helped and his quiet reserved manner, but the impression he gave
was an informal one, and like many basically old-fashioned people, Lucy didn't believe
that medicine and informality mixed.
When she finally got into his office there was something so reassuring in his manner
that all her misgivings fled. He spoke hardly at all and yet he was not brusque, and he
took his time. When she asked him what the lump was he patiently explained that it was
a quite common fibrous (волокнистый, фиброзный ['faıbr∂s]) growth that could in no
way be malignant (злокачественный [m∂’lıgn∂nt]) or a cause for serious concern. He
picked up a heavy medical book and said, "Hold out your arm."
She held out her arm tentatively (неуверенно; tentative ['tent∂tıv] – пробный,
опытный). He smiled at her for the first time. "I'm going to cheat myself out of a surgical
fee," he said. "I'll just smash it with this book and it will flatten out. It may pop up again
but if I remove it surgically, you'll be out of money and have to wear bandages and all
that. OK?"
She smiled at him. For some reason she had an absolute trust in him. "OK," she said.
In the next instant she let out a yell as he brought down the heavy medical volume on
her forearm. The lump had flattened out, almost.
"Did it hurt that much?" he asked.
"No," she said. She watched him completing her case history card. "Is that all?"
He nodded, not paying any more attention to her. She left.
A week later he saw her in the coffee shop and sat next to her at the counter. "How's
the arm?" he asked.
She smiled at him. "Fine," she said. "You're pretty unorthodox but you're pretty good."
He grinned at her. "You don't know how unorthodox I am. And I didn't know how rich
you were. The Vegas Sun just published the list of point owners in the hotel and Lucy
Mancini has a big ten points. I could have made a fortune on that little bump (опухоль,
шишка)."
She didn't answer him, suddenly reminded of Hagen's warnings. He grinned again.
"Don't worry, I know the score (я прекрасно понимаю ситуацию; score – зарубка,
метка), you're just one of the dummies (одна из дурочек; dummy – кукла, чучело;
манекен; марионетка; дурачок, дурочка), Vegas is full of them. How about seeing one
of the shows with me tonight and I'll buy you dinner. I'll even buy you some roulette
chips."
136
She was a little doubtful. He urged her. Finally she said, "I'd like to come but I'm afraid
you might be disappointed by how the night ends. I'm not really a swinger like most of
the girls here in Vegas."
"That's why I asked you," Jules said cheerfully. "I've prescribed a night's rest for
myself."
Lucy smiled at him and said a little sadly, "Is it that obvious?" He shook his head and
she said, "OK, supper then, but I'll buy my own roulette chips."
They went to the supper show and Jules kept her amused by describing different
types of bare thighs and breasts in medical terms; but without sneering, all in good
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