Love Medicine: The World’s Greatest Fisherman Part 1 Summary & Analysis

It is the day before Easter Sunday in Williston, an oil town in southern North Dakota. June Kashpaw, a Chippewa woman, walks down the main avenue. She is “aged hard in every way” but attractive and sure of herself at the same time. She catches the attention of a man in a bar, and he taps on the window. June thinks he looks like someone she knows, but she thinks this about a lot of people, so she goes inside the bar to see.  

Inside the bar, cartons of brightly color eggs are everywhere, and the man sits peeling the shell of a pink egg. June sits down, and the man remarks on her shirt, claiming her turtleneck is the same color as the egg. June corrects him; it is not a turtleneck, she says, but a “shell.” The man tells her that he is willing to “peel” that shell, too, and hands her the egg. June can’t remember the last time she had anything to eat, so she eagerly takes the egg.

June tells the man that she doesn’t have much time until her bus, but he tells her to never mind the bus. She looks at him. Maybe the eggs are “lucky,” she thinks, and maybe he isn’t like the others. Her bus ticket will always be good, and no one is really expecting her back on the reservation. Plus, June’s ex-husband, Gordie, would always send her money if she really needs it. “Ahhhhh,” June says out loud, surprising even herself. Her voice is nearly one of “pain.” She looks again to the man, whose name she has learned is Andy. “You got to be different,” she says.

Sitting at the bar with Andy, June suddenly feels “fragile.” She gets up and heads toward the bathroom, thinking that her skin feels “hard and brittle,” like she could crack at any moment. She feels uncomfortable in her clothing, and she has begun to sweat under her vinyl jacket (a gift from her son, King). Taking the jacket off is out of the question, as she needs it to hide a large rip in the shirt underneath. Inside the bathroom stall, June fumbles and drops her purse. The contents spill to the floor, including a large doorknob, which she has to take with her every time she leaves her room to lock the door. She picks up the porcelain knob and puts it in the pocket of her jacket.

Andy drives June out to a country road on the outskirts of town and parks. He begins to take her clothes off, but he is drunk and awkward, and she must help him along. She pushes up her top, being careful to keep the rip hidden, and arches her back so he can unbutton her pants. Andy pulls June’s tightfitting pants down her legs and static electricity sparks in the dark. “Oh God,” Andy says, laying on top of June and grinding his hips. “Oh God, Mary.” Then he suddenly stops, falling with all his weight on top of her. June shakes him, but he doesn’t move.

Andy is deadweight on top of June, but his breathing is deep and easy. She begins again to feel “frail,” like she will “crack wide open,” so she reaches behind her head and swings open the car door. Leaving the door open, June walks out into the cold, in the direction of Williston. After walking a while, she can see the town’s light in the distance, but she suddenly decides to change direction and head for the reservation instead. The wind blows—a “Chinook wind,” June thinks—and she pretends that she is just heading home to Uncle Eli’s after a dance or from a friend’s house. It begins to snow, and June’s fee are numb, but she doesn’t stop. She is going home.