The Sicilian - Mario Puzo [104]
That night they all had dinner together except for Andolini, who had left in the Fiat. Hector Adonis remained. At the dinner table they made plans to get Justina to America. Don Domenic said the boat to Tunis was ready; it always would be since they did not know when Guiliano would arrive and they would have to move quickly when he did. “Who knows what evil companions he will bring after him,” Don Domenic said with a little smile.
Peter Clemenza said he would accompany Justina to Tunis and make sure she was put on a special plane with special documents that would enable her to enter the United States without trouble. Then he would return to the villa.
When Justina arrived in America she would send her code word back and the final operation to save Guiliano would begin.
Justina said very little during the meal. Don Domenic asked her if she was up to making the journey this very night after she had traveled so much of the day.
When she answered Michael could see the attraction she must have had for Guiliano. She had the same flashing black eyes, the determined jaw and mouth of the strongest Sicilian women and spoke as imperiously.
“Traveling is easier than working and less dangerous than hiding,” she said. “I’ve slept in the mountains and in the fields with sheep, so why can’t I sleep in a ship or on an airplane? Surely it won’t be as cold?” She said this with all the pride of the young, but her hands trembled as she lifted her glass of wine. “I worry only that Turi be able to escape. Why couldn’t he come with me?”
Hector Adonis said gently, “Justina, he didn’t want to endanger you with his presence. It is more difficult for him to travel; more precautions must be taken.”
Peter Clemenza said, “The boat takes you to Africa just before dawn, Justina. Perhaps you’d better get some rest.”
Justina said, “No, I’m not tired and I’m too excited to sleep. Could I have another glass of wine?”
Don Domenic poured her glass full. “Drink, it’s good for your baby and it will help you sleep later. Did Guiliano give you any messages for us?”
Justina smiled at him sadly. “I haven’t seen him for months. Aspanu Pisciotta is the only one he trusts. Not that he thinks I would betray him but that I am his weakness through which they might snare him. It’s from his reading all those romances where the love of women brings about the downfall of heroes. He thinks his love for me his most terrible weakness, and of course he never tells me his plans.”
Michael was curious to find out more about Guiliano, the man he might have been if his father had remained in Sicily, the man Sonny might have been. “How did you meet Turi?” he asked Justina.
She laughed. “I fell in love with him when I was eleven years old,” she said. “That was almost seven years ago and the first year that Turi was an outlaw, but he was already famous in our little village in Sicily. My younger brother and I were working in the fields with my father, and Papa gave me a packet of lire notes to bring back to my mother. My brother and I were silly children and we flaunted the notes, we were so excited at having that much money in our hands. Two carabinieri saw us on the road and took away our money and laughed at us when we cried. We didn’t know what to do, we were afraid to go home and we were afraid to go back to our father. Then this young man came out of the bushes. He was taller than most men in Sicily and much broader in the shoulders. He looked like the American soldiers we had seen during the war. He carried a machine gun under his arm yet he had such gentle brown eyes. He was very handsome. He asked us, ‘Children, why are you crying on such a wonderful day? And you, young lady, you’re ruining your beautiful looks, who will want to marry you?’ But he was laughing and you could see that the sight of us delighted him for some reason. We told him what had happened and he laughed again and said we must always beware of the carabinieri and that this