Excerpt from The Sentence by Louise Erdrich, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Danae was howling.

'Doesn't know what to do with his body! What, what, what is that about?'

'You are amok with grief,' I said.

I gave her a dish towel for the crying. It was the same dish towel I'd tried to kill the ants with even though I knew I was hallucinating. She put the cloth to her face, rocked back and forth. I tried not to look at the crushed ants trickling between her hands. They were still twitching their tiny legs and wav- ing their fragile antenna stalks. Some idea stabbed at Danae. She shuddered, froze. Then she twisted her neck, blared her big pink eyes at me, and said these chilling words.

'Budgie and me are one. One body. I should have his body, Tookie. I want Budgie, my soul!'

I slid away to the fridge and found a beer. I brought her the beer. She knocked my arm away.

'This is a time to keep our heads crystal clear!'

I chugged the beer and said it was the time to get wrecked. 'We are wrecked! What's crazy is that she, who wouldn't

give him sex for a year, has his god-given body.'

'He had an ordinary body, Danae. He wasn't a god.'

She was beyond my message and the ants were fire ants; I was scratching my arms raw.

'We're going in there,' Danae said. Her eyes were now flaming red. 'We're going in like the goddamn Marines. We're gonna bring Budgie home.'

'He's home.'

She pounded her breast. 'I, I, I, am home.'

'I'll be leaving now.'

I crept toward the broken door. Then came the kicker. 'Wait. Tookie. If you help me get Budgie? Bring him here?

You can have my win. That's a year's salary, like, for a teacher, honey. Maybe a principal? That's 26K.'

I froze on the sticky entry mat, thinking on all fours.

Danae felt my awe. I reversed progress, rolled over, and gazed up at her cotton-candy upside-down features.

'I give it to you freely. Just help me, Tookie.'

I had seen so much in her face. Seen the sparkle glow, the tinfoil Ferris wheels, and more. I had seen the four winds travel the green wide-woven world. Seen the leaves press up into a false fabric, closing out my vision. I had never seen Danae offer me money. Any amount of money. And this amount could set me up. It was disturbing, touching, and the most consequential thing that ever happened between us.

'Oh, babe.' I put my arms around her and she panted like a soft puppy. Opened her pouty wet mouth.

'You're my best friend. You can do this for me. You can get Budgie. She doesn't know you. Mara's never seen you. Besides, you have the cold truck.'

'Not anymore. I was fired from North Shore Foods,' I said. 'No,' she cried. 'How come?'

'Sometimes I wore the fruit.'

I'd put melons in my bra and that sort of thing when I de- livered groceries. Cukes in the trou. Well, was that so terrible? My thoughts spun out. As always when I held down a job, I had copied the keys. When inevitably fired, I gave the old keys back. I kept my key copies in a cigar box, clearly labeled with their use. Souvenirs of my employment. It was just a habit. No thought of mischief.

'Look, Danae, I think you're supposed to have an ambulance or hearse or something.'

She stroked my arm, up and down in a pleading rhythm. 'But Tookie! Listen. Clearly. Listen! Clearly!'

I focused elsewhere. The stroking was so nice. Finally she coaxed my gaze to her and spoke as though I was the unreasonable child.

'So, Tookie honey? Mara and Budgie relapsed together and he died. If you wear a nice dress? She'll let you put him in the back of the truck.'

'Danae, the trucks are painted with plums and bacon, or steak and lettuce.'

'Don't let her see the truck! You'll hoist him up and load him in. He'll be ...'


Danae could not go on for a moment. She gagged like a toddler. '... safe in a refrigerated condition. And then the money ...'

Excerpted from The Sentence by Louise Erdrich. Copyright © 2021 by Louise Erdrich. Excerpted by permission of Harper. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.