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It was Don Tommasino sitting on a chair near his bed； Michael could see him clearly now。 Don Tommasino was saying； 〃Michael； Michael； can I talk to you？ Do you want to rest？〃
It was easier to raise a hand to make a gesture and Michael did so and Don Tommasino said； 〃Did Fabrizzio bring the car from the garage？〃
Michael； without knowing he did so； smiled。 It was in some strange way； a chilling smile； of assent。 Don Tommasino said； 〃Fabrizzio has vanished。 Listen to me； Michael。 You've been unconscious for nearly a week。 Do you understand？ Everybody thinks you're dead； so you're safe now； they've stopped looking for you。 I've sent messages to your father and he's sent back instructions。 It won't be long now； you'll be back in America。 Meanwhile you'll rest here quietly。 You're safe up in the mountains； in a special farmhouse I own。 The Palermo people have made their peace with me now that you're supposed to be dead； so it was you they were after all the time。 They wanted to kill you while making people think it was me they were after。 That's something you should know。 As for everything else； leave it all to me。 You recover your strength and be tranquil。〃
Michael was remembering everything now。 He knew his wife was dead； that Calo was dead。 He thought of the old woman in the kitchen。 He couldn't remember if she had e outside with him。 He whispered； 〃Filomena？〃 Don Tommasino said quietly； 〃She wasn't hurt； just a bloody nose from the blast。 Don't worry about her。〃
Michael said； 〃Fabrizzio。 Let your shepherds know that the one who gives me Fabrizzio will own the finest pastures in Sicily。〃
Both men seemed to sigh with relief。 Don Tontmasino lifted a glass from a nearby table and drank from it an amber fluid that jolted his head up。 Dr。 Taza sat on the bed and said almost absently； 〃You know； you're a widower。 That's rare in Sicily。〃 As if the distinction might fort him。
Michael motioned to Don Tommasino to lean closer。 The Don sat on the bed and bent his head。 〃Tell my father to get me home；〃 Michael said。 〃Tell my father I wish to be his son。〃
But it was to be another month before Michael recovered from his injuries and another two months after that before all the necessary papers and arrangements were ready。 Then he was flown from Palermo to Rome and from Rome to New York。 In all that time no trace had been found of Fabrizzio。
Book seven
Chapter 25
When Kay Adams received her college degree； she took a job teaching grade school in her New Hampshire hometown。 The first six months after Michael vanished she made weekly telephone calls to his mother asking about him。 Mrs。 Corleone was always friendly and always wound up saying； 〃You a very very nice girl。 You forget about Mikey and find a nice husband。〃 Kay was not offended at her bluntness and understood that the mother spoke out of concern for her as a young girl in an impossible situation。
When her first school term ended； she decided to go to New York to buy some decent clothes and see some old college girl friends。 She thought also about looking for some sort of interesting job in New York。 She had lived like a spinster for almost two years； reading and teaching； refusing dates； refusing to go out at all； even though she had given up making calls to Long Beach。 She knew she couldn't keep that up； she was being irritable and unhappy。 But she had always believed Michael would write her or send her a message of some sort。 That he had not done so humiliated her； it saddened her that he was so distrustful even of her。
She took an early train and was checked into her hotel by midafternoon。 Her girl friends worked and she didn't want to bother them at their jobs； she planned to call them at night。 And she didn't really feel like going shopping after the exhausting train trip。 Being alone in the hotel room； remembering all the times she and Michael had used hotel rooms to make love； gave her a feeling of desolation。 It was that more than anything else that gave her the idea of calling Michael's mother out in Long Beach。
The phone was answered by a rough masculine voice with a typical； to her； New York accent。 Kay asked to speak to Mrs。 Corelone。 There was a few minutes' silence and then Kay heard the heavily accented voice asking who it was。
Kay was a little embarrassed now。 〃This is Kay Adams； Mrs。 Corleone；〃 she said。 〃Do you remember me？〃
〃Sure； sure； I remember you；〃 Mrs。 Corleone said。 〃How e you no call up no more？ You get a married？〃
〃Oh； no；〃 Kay said。 〃I've been busy。〃 She was surprised at the mother obviously being annoyed that she had stopped calling。 〃Have you heard anything from Michael？ Is he all right〃
There was silence at the other end of the phone and then Mrs。 Corleorie's voice came strong。 〃Mikey is a home。 He no call you up？ He no see you？〃
Kay felt her stomach go weak from shock and a humiliating desire to weep。 Her voice broke a little when she asked； 〃How long has he been home？〃
Mrs。 Corleone said； 〃Six months。〃
〃Oh； I see；〃 Kay said。 And she did。 She felt hot waves of shame that Michael's mother knew he was treating her so cheaply。 And then she was angry。 Angry at Michael； at his mother； angry at all foreigners； Italians who didn't have the mon courtesy to keep up a decent show of friendship even if a love affair was over。 Didn't Michael know she would be concerned for him as a friend even if he no longer wanted her for a bed panion； even if he no longer wanted to marry her？ Did he think she was one of those poor benighted Italian girls who would mit suicide or make a scene after giving up her virginity and then being thrown over？ But she kept her voice as cool as possible。 〃I see； thank you very much；〃 she said。 〃I'm glad Michael is home again and all right。 I just wanted to know。 I won't call you again。〃
Mrs。 Corleone's voice came impatiently over the phone as if she had heard nothing that Kay had said。 〃You wanta see Mikey； you e out here now。 Give him a nice surprise。 You take a taxi； and I tell the man at the gate to pay the taxi for you。 You tell the taxi man he gets two times his clock； otherwise he no e way out the Long Beach。 But don't you pay。 My husband's man at the gate pay the taxi。〃
〃I couldn't do that； Mrs。 Corleone；〃 Kay said coldly。 〃If Michael wanted to see me； he would have called me at home before this。 Obviously； he doesn't want to resume our relationship。〃
Mrs。 Corleone's voice came briskly over the phone。 〃You a very nice girl； you gotta nice legs； but you no gotta much brains。〃 She chuckled。 〃You e out to see me； not Mikey。 I wanta talk to you。 You e right now。 An' no pay the taxi。 I wait for you。〃 The phone clicked。 Mrs。 Corleone had hung up。
Kay could have called back and said she wasn't ing but she knew she had to see Michael； to talk to him； even if it was just polite talk。 If he was home now； openly； that meant he was no longer in trouble； he could live normally。 She jumped off the bed and started to get ready to see him。 She took a great deal of care with her makeup and dress。 When she was ready to leave she stared at her reflection in the mirror。 Was she better…looking than when Michael had disappeared？ Or would he find her unattractively older？ Her figure had bee more womanly； her hips rounder； her breasts fuller。 Italians liked that supposedly； though Michael had always said he loved her being so thin。 It didn't matter really； Michael obviously didn't want anything to do with her anymore； otherwise he most certainly would have called in the six months he had been home。
The taxi she hailed refused to take her to Long Beach until she gave him a pretty smile and told him she would pay double the meter。 It was nearly an hour's ride and the mall in Long Beach had changed since she last saw it。 There were iron fences around it and an iron gate barred the mall entrance。 A man wearing slacks and a white jacket over a red shirt opened the gate； poked his head into the cab to read the meter and gave the cab driver some bills。 Then when Kay saw the driver was not protesting and was happy with the money paid； she got out and walked across the mall to the central house。
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