Concealed Intelligence by Daniella James of Tohono O'odham Community College
Concealed Intelligence by Daniella James of Tohono O’odham Community College

The year was 1953, it was on a Tuesday in July. I remember watching the clock as I waited for my husband to show up. My husband Peter and I just had our five-year anniversary. Five days before the “murder,” I had been in a committed relationship with Peter ever since we were 16 years old.

I was your typical blonde girl with blue eyes and long blonde hair. Peter had always been very good looking with his dark brown hair and hazel eyes. His father wanted him to take over the business after he died, he gave Peter a job, and he became a salesman, selling cosmetics. While I stayed home, I cooked, cleaned, and did the grocery shopping.

All I knew was that he was no longer happy with our relationship. He once told me when he was really drunk that he only stayed with me because my cooking made up for my lack of intelligence. I stayed with him because I didn’t want my local friends, family, and neighbors shaming me for being on my own.

A couple weeks before the “murder,” Peter wanted me to bring him lunch every day. I would bring him a hot ham and cheese sandwich. I got out of my car and walked into where he worked. I walked downstairs to where his office was and walked over to his desk. I saw our next door neighbor, Karen. She had short black hair and blue eyes. Men had always lusted over her. Not because she was beautiful, but because she had a large set of breasts.

She was sitting on top of his lap feeding him chocolates and laughing out loud to the point where the whole room could hear them messing around. I ducked and hid behind a printer. I tiptoed to one of Peter’s coworkers and gave him his lunch. Of course, when he got home, he yelled at me.

I said nothing as my rage was getting stronger. After he fell asleep, I got up and went to the kitchen to enjoy a piece of the strawberry cake. I had not eaten anything sweet in months. It felt amazing. That’s when I thought of a plan—a plan to get rid of both Peter and Karen. Killing two birds with one stone would be easy.

That night when he arrived, he was drunker than a skunk. He tripped and fell to the ground, he struggled as he got up from the ground. “What the hell are you looking at Sherry?”

I laughed, “Oh you with your drunken words, I made dinner. It’s your favorite: medium rare steak with a side of green beans, mashed potatoes, and your absolute favorite chocolate cake.”

He looked down at the plate and licked his lips. He started to scarf down the whole meal. “This is the only thing that keeps me from divorcing your stupid ass, Sherry,” he whipped away the leftover food that was on his lips. “Now that was a nice meal.” I grabbed a clean fork out of the clean dishes.

“Don’t forget desert,” I said cheerfully. He grabbed the fork without any hesitation. I watched him as he took each bite out of a piece of cake. “You like it? I added a secret ingredient to it,” he smiled but then I saw his face swell up. He was choking and couldn’t breathe. “Oh, what’s the matter Peter, don’t like it?” I said sarcastically. “You really should like it, I added my favorite ingredient to it.” He looked at me with tears in his eyes and his hands around his neck. I grabbed the bottle and showed it to him. “Poison sweetheart. Poison, it’s the most wonderful ingredient a cheating husband can consume.”

He looked as if he was in shock then he stood up and fell to the ground. He lay there unconscious. “Oh, Peter you do know that the poison only chokes you until you fall asleep, I have much more planned.”

I grabbed him by the legs and dragged him down to the basement. I tied him up to a chair and waited for him to wake up. After about an hour, he finally woke up, “What the hell??? Where am I???? Oh, my head???” I came out of the shadows with my white gloves on holding a red box. “What the hell, Sherry?”

I looked at him with a big smiling grin. “Oh hun, I have one more fun activity for us to enjoy.” He looked up at me with concern.

“Sherry please. I’m sorry I won’t ever cheat again. . . . Just don’t hurt me,” he cried.

“Oh, but it’s too late for apologies. You have been treating me like shit for years, so it is time for my revenge.” He screamed. I grabbed a key out of my dress pocket and unlocked the box, “I want you to meet my little friend.” He screamed. I pulled out my butcher’s knife and stabbed him in the chest, until I could get to his heart. I cut his heart out and laid it in the box. I grabbed his dead body and dragged him over to Karen’s house. I dug a hole in the ground and buried him along with the key, the leftover cake and the box that had his heart inside of it.

I took a nice relaxing bath and got dressed into my favorite nightgown. I then called the police explaining what I saw my next-door neighbor doing. They rushed to the scene, I watched as they dug up my dead husband’s corpse. Karen was arrested and sentenced to life in prison. A couple months after Peter’s funeral, I got remarried and now have two lovely children. Getting rid of Peter was the best plan I had ever made.

Gracie Gamache is a student at Leech Lake Tribal College.

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