Free Barbary Shore by Norman Mailer

dollars to go to bed with him once.”
    Monina had appeared in the doorway, and Guinevere glanced at her. I looked about uneasily. The child was completely naked. “See Monina,” the mother said, “you see the way she’s built. That’s the way I was, but since I been married I let my figure go.” Emerging from the reverie, she shrieked suddenly, “Monina, put something on.”
    But Monina coquetted, her arms raised, the tiny hands at her neck. I found myself reluctant to look at the child, for her body was extraordinary. She was virtually a miniature of a girl of eighteen, the limbs round, slender curves flowing from shoulder to hip, her luminous blonde hair lovely against the pale flesh. “No,” Monina pouted.
    “I’ll get the strap.”
    Monina sighed. She seemed bored with the strap, and although she retreated, I could swear she was listening from the hall.
    Guinevere poured me another cup of coffee. “Someone was telling me you’re an author, Lovett,” she said.
    “He was mistaken.”
    She passed this by. “You know I been thinking there’s a way you and me could make a lot of money,” she said. “I got a story that’s worth a million bucks.”
    “Well, then why don’t you write it?”
    “I can’t. I can’t write. I haven’t got the patience. But here’s my idea. I’ll tell you the story, you write it, and we’ll split the money. I swear. When I think of the hundreds of thousands of dollars this book is worth, and it’s all in my head.”
    She was not to be halted. “Listen, you really ought to listen to this. It’s a natural. I read lots of novels, and I never seen anything to compare to this.” Her voice became matter-of-fact again. “And you know it covers a span of years, it’s a seriousstory.” She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against her fist, face twisted into concentration. “I’ve been trying to make up my mind which stars ought to play it, but so far I’m not sure, although I suppose they decide it all in Hollywood anyway. Just to think about it gets me excited.
    “Here,” she offered. “It takes place in this city in New York State, and the main characters are a doctor, a real good-looking guy with a mustache, big you know, and his nurse, she looks like some of those blonde stars, and then he’s got a girl-friend, a dark-haired girl, any feature player could do that part.” Guinevere lit a cigarette. “Now, this guy, the doctor, he’s a pretty good guy, good heart and so forth, and he’s a wow with the women. He’s got the biggest whang on him in the whole town, and maybe he don’t know it. He’s got dozens of girl friends, and there isn’t one of them who won’t surrender herself to him, you know. But he’s got a favorite, the blonde star one, his nurse, and she’s a good kid too, worked hard all her life, and she goes for him. You know she’s really in love, but she don’t show it, puts up a tough front.” Guinevere sighed with content. “Now the other one is a society girl, hoity-toity, and she comes to see him about something or other, woman trouble maybe, and he seduces her in his medical chambers, and they really tie a can on. You know for weeks he just goes around with her, to night clubs and to the beach, the country club, and he can’t get her out of his system, it’s chemical. Only all the time, at the same time, he still keeps the nurse on the string, and they get together once in a while, and it’s love with them, it’s just passion with the other.”
    “That is,” I interposed, “it’s the blonde star one he’s really in love with?”
    “Yeah.” Without missing a breath, she continued. “Well, all this time, there’s been a hullaballoo with the brunette society one’s parents, you know they don’t like the doctor because he’s also from lowly origin like the nurse. But there’s nothing they can do, it’s real flaming youth.” She halted, and murmured inaside, “Some of this I’m drawing from my own