James Kilgore - Prudence Couldn’t Swim

Prudence Couldnt Swim

By James Kilgore

Copyright James Kilgore

This edition 2012 PM Press

All rights reserved

Published by:

PM Press

PO Box 23912

Oakland, CA 94623

www.pmpress.org

Cover illustration by Mark Maddox www.maddoxplanet.com

Interior design by Courtney Utt/briandesign

ISBN: 978-1-60486-495-3

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011927952

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Printed in the USA on recycled paper, by the Employee Owners of Thomson-Shore in Dexter, Michigan.

www.thomsonshore.com

Oakland, California
June, 2003

P rudence couldnt swim. She liked to sit by my pool in a skimpy bikini, her body glowing with creams, lotions, and oils. When I came home that Thursday afternoon, I saw her in the water for the first time. She lay face up under the surface, her legs bent like a frogs.

I kicked off my sandals and jumped in feet-first. My favorite Christian Dior sunglasses floated away as I grabbed her hand. Her fingers were limp but warm. I dragged her to the edge, let go for a second, and scrambled onto the deck. As I knelt down and slid my hands under her armpits, I thought I heard her laughing. No such luck.

Her knees banged against the concrete, then her toes caught on the rim of the pool. Id never been much good at handling women who were alive and breathing, so I shouldnt have been surprised that this wasnt going well. I gave an extra tug and her body slithered onto the scorching concrete. Her skin seemed to sizzle as I laid her down and began the battle to bring my wife back from the dead.

This woman had cost me a fortuneplane tickets, clothes, entertainment. Prudence longed to live in style. I tried to give her that, though I dont know how much she appreciated my efforts. Our union did have its benefits though. I strutted through crowds while gawkers puzzled at how a hare-lipped, balding white man could hold onto this ebony trophy girl. I would remember those times. Now, soaking wet and frantic, I wasnt sure it was all worth it. People would probably say she played me.

For the first time ever, I put my lips to her mouth. I held her nostrils shut, like what I remembered they said to do on the radio if someone wasnt breathing. This once-forbidden fruit felt so natural.

I breathed in and out three, four, five times. A trickle of water ran from her nose. With the flat of my hand between her still-shining breasts, I pushed quick and hard. The purple polish of her toenails flashed in the corner of my eye as her feet bounced in rhythm to my futile thrusts. Shed spent hours with little balls of cotton between her toes getting that polish just right.

I alternated between lips and chest, my cheek finally collapsing onto those once-glorious tits. I was too out of breath to cry. Prudence was gone. What thrills did life hold for me now?

T he first issue was getting out of those clothes. I hated wet cotton clinging to my chest. I stripped down to my boxers in the patio, then raced to the bedroom. A pair of black Dockers and a black cashmere sweater helped me regain my composure for a few seconds. But no change of clothes could solve the problem of what to do with this dead body. I rushed back out to the patio and covered Prudence with a green wool blanket. I didnt want to witness whatever changes go on with a dead person. Red Eye would know what to do though he was hard to catch. He hadnt quite gotten the hang of cell phones. He owned one but rarely turned it on and never checked messages. Even his parole officer had a hard time tracking him down. I tried his landline. No reply. He didnt believe in answering machines or voice mail.

If God intended me to get the call he would have kept my ass at home, was his explanation. Typical convict logic. After his five years in the pen what could I expect?

When Red Eye wasnt home, he was usually at Leons Sports Bar, a none-too-fancy place on the fringes of Hayward. Red Eye bet on anythingfootball, NASCAR, the Olympics. He bet on European soccer, though he didnt know a corner kick from an off side. He solved that problem by always betting on teams with red uniforms. In fact, he always bet on red. I once caught him with $100 riding on a ping pong match. Hed backed the Chinese player against the Malaysian because the Chinese guy wore a red shirt.

And the guy comes from Red China, hed pointed out to make it more convincing.

I could phone Red Eye at Leons but the conversation might get awkward and Leon loved to eavesdrop. Better to go there. Still, before I could go anywhere, I had to do better than leave Prudence lying under a blanket. How long did a body take to start stinking? The last thing I needed was the stench of my now-former wife enveloping the neighborhood. I hadnt lived here long and I was trying to keep up a respectable front. It was all disintegrating fast.

The more I thought about it, the worse it seemed. How could this vibrant, beautiful woman suddenly turn into a rotting heap of flesh?

I wrapped the blanket all the way around her and dragged it across the patio, a little like a husky pulling a sled. Her once-mesmerizing bumps and curves thudded over the sliding glass door frame. At least hers was a bloodless death. I didnt have to worry about stains. Still, dead people did empty their bodily fluids at some point. I hoped that moment wouldnt come too soon. Id spent over $4,000 recarpeting the living room just a few weeks before. Cream color. I didnt want anyones emissions, not even Prudences, to scar my investment. Just for insurance I rolled the body, still in the blanket, onto a little throw rug. Hard to hide blemishes on cream-colored carpet.

I slid this odd-looking parcel across the living room, down the shining hardwood hallway to the guest bathroom. There wasnt much space in there. I had to bend her a little and wrap her around the toilet so I could close the door. As I twisted her ankle to get the required angle, her face popped out of the blanket. A few minutes of death had hollowed her eyes and caved in her cheeks. That tiny scar on her cheek, her only blemish, had somehow grown. I threw a towel over her head before that image got too deeply etched in my memory. I retreated quickly and shut the door, hoping she wouldnt flop into some ungainly position. She deserved better than that.

I rushed to the liquor cabinet and downed two shots of Wild Turkey. The burning liquid temporarily purged her sunken eyes from my mind. I couldnt recall why Id brought her inside. Oh yes. I didnt want to leave her by the pool while I went to find Red Eye at Leons.

As I searched for my car keys, another little light went on inside my headthe one that said you could be in a world of trouble here.

Prudence didnt leap into the heated pool in a suicidal fit. She had help. Someone pushed her. Maybe they were trying to set me up. Running to Leons looked a little less appealing. If I was going to run, Id have to run farther than that. Whoever did this had probably phoned the police the minute I walked through the front door. I had to cover some tracks. Fast.

I exchanged the Wild Turkey for Chivas Regal and weighed my options. Two shots of the Chivas halted the tremor in my hands. Scotch was more powerful than bourbon in such situations. Id save the Wild Turkey for later.