Excerpt from Harlem Shuffle by Colson Whitehead, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Carney was wrong this time. The bright front room overlooked Broadway and the sound of an ambulance snuck in through the window. The dinette set in the corner was from the '30s, chipped and discolored, and the faded oval rug revealed traffic patterns, but the sofa and armchair were in factory condition. Heywood-Wakefield with that champagne finish everybody liked now. And sheathed in transparent vinyl slipcovers.

"I live in D.C. now," Ruby said. "I work in a hospital. But I'd been telling my mother to get rid of the couch for years, it was so old. Two months ago I bought these for her."

"D.C.?" he said. He unzipped the plastic.

"I like it there. There's less of that, you know?" She gestured toward the Broadway chaos below.

"Sure." He ran his hand over the green velvet upholstery: pristine. "It's from Mr. Harold's?" She hadn't bought the sofa from him, and Blumstein's didn't carry the line, so it had to be Mr. Harold's.

"Yes."

"Took good care of them," Carney said.

Excerpted from Harlem Shuffle by Colson Whitehead. Copyright © 2021 by Colson Whitehead. Excerpted by permission of Doubleday. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.