Sunday 29 September 2024

Don Monty

(Nothing inspiring to say about writing this month, so here's a piece I wrote purely for myself one day, and at a time when the Don still had two dogs. Apologies to all those who aren't as devoted to The Godfather as I am.)

 

BONASERA

I believe in horticulture. Horticulture has made my fortune. And I raised my garden in the horticultural fashion. I gave it freedom but, I taught it never to dishonour its borders.

 

It found some new growth. Not a cultivated plant. It took in some seeds. It let them grow. I didn’t prune. Two months ago, that first plant produced an offshoot. It made my garden smaller... and then it tried to expand. My garden resisted. It kept its flowers. So the new growth attacked it, with weeds.

 

When I went to my garden its flowers were blighted, its stems were choked, held together by creepers. It couldn’t even droop, because of the infestation. But I drooped. Why did I droop? It was the light of my life. A beautiful garden. Now it will never be beautiful again.

 

(WEEPS. IS GIVEN A DRINK.) 

 

Sorry. I went to the council, like a good horticulturalist. Those two weeds were inspected. The civil servant ordered them to be dug up, but not for three weeks. There was a schedule. A schedule? Those weeds went free that very day. I stood in my garden like a fool, and those two weeds, they waved at me. Then I said to my wife, ‘For help, we must go to Don Monty’.

 

DON MONTY

            Why did you go to the council? Why didn’t you come to me first?

 

BONASERA

            What do you want of me? Tell me anything, but do what I beg you to do!

 

DON MONTY

            What is that?

 

 (BONASERA RISES AND WHISPERS IN DON MONTY’S EAR.)

 

 DON MONTY

            (Shaking his head.) That I cannot do.

 

BONASERA

            I’ll give you anything you ask.

 

DON MONTY (SCRATCHING NELLIE BEHIND THE EARS) 

We’ve known each other many years, but this is the first time you ever came to me for counsel or for help. I can’t remember the last time that you invited me to your house for a look at your garden. Even though my wife provided you with the cutting for your only fruit tree. But let’s be frank. You never wanted my friendship. You were afraid to be in my debt.

 

 BONASERA

            I didn’t want to get into trouble.

 

DON MONTY

I understand. You found paradise in horticulture. You had a good garden. You made a good harvest. The council protected your fence and there were regular inspections. You didn’t need a friend like me. But now you come to me and you say, ’Don Monty, give me justice’. But you don’t ask with respect. You don’t offer cuttings. You don’t even think to call me Godfather. Instead, you come into my house on the day my television show is to air and you ask me to prune, for money.

 

BONASERA

            I ask you for justice.

 

 DON MONTY

            That is not justice. Your garden is still in bloom.

 

BONASERA

            Let the weeds suffer then, as my garden has suffered. How much shall I pay you?

 

DON MONTY (SENDING NELLIE TO SIT WITH NIGEL)

Bonasera, Bonasera. What have I ever done to make you treat me so disrespectfully? If you’d come to me in friendship, then the weeds that ruined your garden would be suffering this very day. And if by chance a horticulturalist like yourself should discover more weeds then they would become my enemies. (WAGS FINGER.) And then they would fear you.

 

 BONASERA

            (SWALLOWING HARD.) Be my friend? Godfather?

 

 DON MONTY (AS BONASERA KISSES HIS EXTENDED HAND)

Good. Some day, and that day may never come, I’ll call upon you to provide a plant for me. But until that day, accept this gesture as a gift on my television show’s first episode.

 

BONASERA

            Grazie.

 

DON MONTY

Prego. (TURNING TO TOM HAGAN AS BONASERA LEAVES.) Give this to Clemenza. I want reliable people that aren’t going to get carried away. I mean, we’re not garden centre employees, in spite of what this undertaker says.

 

© NICK GARLICK 2020 (AFTER Francis Ford Coppola & Mario Puzo)

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