Naked Came the Stranger Read Online Free PDF

breasts that Ernie counted
among the finest in Christendom. She was an Italian-Irish mixture
who had somehow managed to capture the worst characteristics of both
nationalities. She didn't like to drink and she didn't like to stay
up late and she always chastised Ernie when he did either.
    The best thing about Laverne had been a father old-fashioned
enough to believe in a dowry, which meant a partnership in a
construction company specializing in swimming pools. And when
suburbanites found they could dig themselves even deeper into debt
with a pool, Ernie and his father-in-law were there to help with the
digging. Ernie was vice president in charge of pools, which had made
him affluent enough to settle in King's Neck rather than Levittown or
Huntington. Ernie had been happy in a Bayside apartment with a
breakfast balcony. But Laverne wanted to become part of a community
– to have roots, as she put it. So Ernie bought a waterfront
lot with a seven-bedroom, split-level ranch. They still had no
roots, but now they had a mortgage that would grow old with them. The
one thing they owned free and clear was the pool.
    From the beginning Laverne had never been anything less than a
dutiful wife. And not much more. Ernie realized, of course, that
Honolulu was a tough act to follow. It could be said of Ernie and
Laverne that their marriage started off in low gear and then bogged
down. Ernie's feelings about most of his neighbors were generally
expressed in simple terms. "Pushy goddam Jews" – that was one
of his favorite appraisals. He took great delight in padding his
neighbors' bills when they came to him for a pool on the erroneous
assumption that geographical proximity might save them a few
dollars.
    The Civic Association, the Save Our Schools Committee, the
Republican Club, the Young Americans for Freedom – the only
thing that meant a good goddam to Ernie was a party. Last night's
blast was one of the best. Gillian had been standing beside the pool
when he first saw her. She was wearing that low-backed green dress
with high heels to match. He was talking to someone, Melvin Corby it
was, and he'd just said, "Show me the guy who doesn't eat it and I'll
steal his girl," when Gillian walked across his line of vision. Corby
had told him that everyone on King's Neck wanted a slice of that butt
– only those weren't the words Corby had used (pushy goddam
Jew) – Ernie could understand why. Then, later, she had come on
with him at the bar.
    It was hard for Ernie to believe he had scored with her so
quickly. She was class. But it all confirmed what he had always
maintained, a broad is a broad.
    Ernie fell asleep then. And less than an hour later Laverne woke
up to hear him screaming. He woke up screaming something about ice
cubes, and when she tried to wipe the perspiration from his brow he
begged her not to touch him.
    Ernie didn't see Gillian until the following Friday. He was at the
Plaza having a sandwich and Gillian was having a late afternoon
martini. Apparently she was not having her husband because Bill was
sitting at another table talking to several men in business suits.
The Plaza was next to the King's Neck Railroad Station and, unlike
most restaurants near railroad stations, it was reasonably sanguine.
At night there was a darky piano player, and it was known as the
launching pad for those who planned to swap mates for the evening.
This, to Ernie, made excellent sense, but it also made excellent
sense never to broach the subject to Laverne. In the afternoon it was
reasonably quiet and Ernie, a man who always looked out of place in a
white collar, would sometimes stop off between checks on his work
crews. He had been scoring for eight months with one of the
waitresses who had to quit when her husband changed jobs.
    "Hello there." Gillian carried her martini to the bar and took the
stool to his left. Her hair was up. Ernie put his notebook away and
took a long look.
    "Like another one?" he said.
    "Why not?"
    Ernie had been