And Then There Was HARVEY
I don't write. I toil. Here are the fruits of my labor.
It's the first few thousand words of 'Did you hear me?'
Let me know what you think-- if you think anything at all.
Part One:
Monday
Waking up in his own bed, in his own clothes, in his own head, Sam was grateful to be staring at the speckled pattern on the ceiling. Grateful.
He stretched and felt his muscles pull and relax around his frame, he was tired, his stomach hurt and there was a little bit of acid reflux still hanging out towards the top of his sternum.
There’s so much to do this morning.
The thought sung through him like an electric current of anxiety and Sam swung his legs over the side of the bed and got to his feet. His right hip cracked and his knees popped in accordance. He was getting older, he couldn’t keep waking up like this. He couldn’t keep doing this. He was supposed to retire. He was supposed to have an easy life. He was supposed to be allowed to go home. But there was so much work left to do.
Walking from the bedroom to the kitchen he made note of how trashed the place was. Rank smells, multiple, yes, wafted from the living room and the kitchen.
Mike had left the tv on again all night, the loading screen of a popular game softly emitted music and danced shadows across old plates of food and empty beer cans. Sam cleared his throat and tried to ignore it. Mike wasn’t his problem. Mike wasn’t his responsibility. Harvey brought Mike into their lives and it was Harvey’s job to take Mike out of their lives.
The only issue was, it was hard to get anything out of Harvey lately. No emotions, no effort. Harvey was more than content to let his life get away from him and all of them could see it.
He stretched and felt his muscles pull and relax around his frame, he was tired, his stomach hurt and there was a little bit of acid reflux still hanging out towards the top of his sternum.
There’s so much to do this morning.
The thought sung through him like an electric current of anxiety and Sam swung his legs over the side of the bed and got to his feet. His right hip cracked and his knees popped in accordance. He was getting older, he couldn’t keep waking up like this. He couldn’t keep doing this. He was supposed to retire. He was supposed to have an easy life. He was supposed to be allowed to go home. But there was so much work left to do.
Walking from the bedroom to the kitchen he made note of how trashed the place was. Rank smells, multiple, yes, wafted from the living room and the kitchen.
Mike had left the tv on again all night, the loading screen of a popular game softly emitted music and danced shadows across old plates of food and empty beer cans. Sam cleared his throat and tried to ignore it. Mike wasn’t his problem. Mike wasn’t his responsibility. Harvey brought Mike into their lives and it was Harvey’s job to take Mike out of their lives.
The only issue was, it was hard to get anything out of Harvey lately. No emotions, no effort. Harvey was more than content to let his life get away from him and all of them could see it.
To say that everyone was worried would be an understatement. Everyone was very worried. Even Mike, for all of his faults and bad behaviors, was a little worried.
Sam started a pot of coffee and left it to brew while he went to relieve himself in the restroom. He sighed and felt his shoulders stiffen as his socked foot suddenly became cold and damp. He looked at the urine speckling the floor and the toilet seat. Mike couldn’t pee in the bowl when he’d been drinking. Or maybe he didn’t even try. Sam wouldn’t put that past him. Mike was lazy and selfish and cared about one agenda and one agenda alone-- escaping reality.
Maybe that’s why Harvey relied on him so much. Harvey was the king of needing to escape reality. As if to punctuate this thought, Sam saw Twenty-Thousand Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Vern sitting on the edge of the bathtub, cigarette butts stuffed into one of Jenn’s coffee mugs sitting next to it. At least there were signs of life from Harvey.
At some point in time, he sat in the tub and read his favorite book. Sam found that to be a hopeful thought, it boosted his mood a little bit. He didn’t know where Harvey was this morning but at some point in time he’d been reading and that was important.
Sam started a pot of coffee and left it to brew while he went to relieve himself in the restroom. He sighed and felt his shoulders stiffen as his socked foot suddenly became cold and damp. He looked at the urine speckling the floor and the toilet seat. Mike couldn’t pee in the bowl when he’d been drinking. Or maybe he didn’t even try. Sam wouldn’t put that past him. Mike was lazy and selfish and cared about one agenda and one agenda alone-- escaping reality.
Maybe that’s why Harvey relied on him so much. Harvey was the king of needing to escape reality. As if to punctuate this thought, Sam saw Twenty-Thousand Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Vern sitting on the edge of the bathtub, cigarette butts stuffed into one of Jenn’s coffee mugs sitting next to it. At least there were signs of life from Harvey.
At some point in time, he sat in the tub and read his favorite book. Sam found that to be a hopeful thought, it boosted his mood a little bit. He didn’t know where Harvey was this morning but at some point in time he’d been reading and that was important.
Of course, Sam reminded himself, Harvey needed to do a lot more than just pull himself out of bed to read in the bathtub. A terrorist’s proof of life was not the same thing as a healthy sign of movement.
Jenn was going to be upset about the mug. But when wasn’t she upset about anything? She was very good at griping and making her disappointment with the entire situation known. She hated Harvey smoking. She hated him smoking in the apartment, she hated him smoking outside. She hated the smell, the taste, the cost. She hated all of it and yet, Harvey’s bad habit persisted.
Sam flushed the toilet and went to the sink to wash his hands. His gaze avoided the mirror, he didn’t want to see what he knew he was going to see. Time was getting away from everyone. Life was getting away from everyone. They had to do something. They had to help Harvey.
Help Harvey.
How could he help Harvey? Sam had been trying to help him his whole life and with everyone reaching their thirties, it was hard to imagine a life where Harvey didn’t need his help. It seemed like Harvey needed him more and more every day. Every day he sunk further and further away from the land of the living.
Sam flushed the toilet and went to the sink to wash his hands. His gaze avoided the mirror, he didn’t want to see what he knew he was going to see. Time was getting away from everyone. Life was getting away from everyone. They had to do something. They had to help Harvey.
Help Harvey.
How could he help Harvey? Sam had been trying to help him his whole life and with everyone reaching their thirties, it was hard to imagine a life where Harvey didn’t need his help. It seemed like Harvey needed him more and more every day. Every day he sunk further and further away from the land of the living.
Employment.
Sam knew Harvey always did better with a job, the activity, the structure, it kept him grounded and here and in person. But it was so hard for him to consistently wake up and go to a job. If he was scheduled a Monday-Friday, he might be there two out of the five days then… just stop trying. Something would happen, someone would say something and Harvey would have to find Mike and drink about it for a few days.
He always had to get away from life. From this life. From this horrible broken mess of a life. Sam cleared off a spot at the dining room table for his laptop and opened one of the several job sourcing websites he’d bookmarked last week.
If he could find Harvey a job, maybe Harvey could find the will to do more than what he was doing at the present moment. Jenn would call this hope. Sam wasn’t sure if he would call it anything than just moving forward. Doing what he could to make sure Harvey had a fighting chance, even if he didn’t want to fight for himself.
Sam knew Harvey always did better with a job, the activity, the structure, it kept him grounded and here and in person. But it was so hard for him to consistently wake up and go to a job. If he was scheduled a Monday-Friday, he might be there two out of the five days then… just stop trying. Something would happen, someone would say something and Harvey would have to find Mike and drink about it for a few days.
He always had to get away from life. From this life. From this horrible broken mess of a life. Sam cleared off a spot at the dining room table for his laptop and opened one of the several job sourcing websites he’d bookmarked last week.
If he could find Harvey a job, maybe Harvey could find the will to do more than what he was doing at the present moment. Jenn would call this hope. Sam wasn’t sure if he would call it anything than just moving forward. Doing what he could to make sure Harvey had a fighting chance, even if he didn’t want to fight for himself.
They were all trying to fight for Harvey, even Mike in all of his alcoholic idiocy, he was even trying to fight for Harvey. So where was Harvey?
Life doesn’t have to be this hard, Harvey.
Sam looked over Harvey’s short resume and tried to remember a time when he felt like Harvey had more to offer. He did, didn’t he? Harvey had talent, Harvey had uses, Harvey had a purpose. He was more than this resume, Sam reminded himself. He was more than an old book and a mug of cigarette butts. He was a whole person. A whole person. You’re a whole person, Harvey.
Life doesn’t have to be this hard, Harvey.
Sam looked over Harvey’s short resume and tried to remember a time when he felt like Harvey had more to offer. He did, didn’t he? Harvey had talent, Harvey had uses, Harvey had a purpose. He was more than this resume, Sam reminded himself. He was more than an old book and a mug of cigarette butts. He was a whole person. A whole person. You’re a whole person, Harvey.
Harvey had a degree in graphic design, he was capable and creative. He needed to get out of bed and apply himself to his life. Still, Sam looked for the easy jobs. The dishwashers, the busboys. Jobs that didn’t require too much from Harvey, just enough for him to bring something good and substantial to the table. Something that made him feel… like he’d earned another day.
Sam was tired. He wanted to go back to sleep. He was done with this day and he never really even started it. The apartment was quiet and empty. Lonely, almost. More often than not, he enjoyed it this way but sometimes the desire for companionship cropped up and he felt the same dull ache in his chest that he always got.
Sam was tired. He wanted to go back to sleep. He was done with this day and he never really even started it. The apartment was quiet and empty. Lonely, almost. More often than not, he enjoyed it this way but sometimes the desire for companionship cropped up and he felt the same dull ache in his chest that he always got.
His mind wandered to the forbidden topic of Amanda. He knew it was forbidden for a reason. She was as off-limits as any subject could be in this apartment but no one else was around so what was the harm? He wondered if she thought of him. Or any of them, really. She’d been such an important figure in their world for so long it was hard to think that their time together was over but Sam forced himself to do it all the same. Visualize her absence, feel it. She was gone and she wasn’t coming back.
Harvey did so much better with Amanda around. She was the light in his eyes and everyone knew it. Then she left and the light went out. It never came back on after that. Jenn came around less. Mike came around more and Harvey… well. Harvey couldn’t really handle it, could he?
Harvey did so much better with Amanda around. She was the light in his eyes and everyone knew it. Then she left and the light went out. It never came back on after that. Jenn came around less. Mike came around more and Harvey… well. Harvey couldn’t really handle it, could he?
They all loved Amanda in their own ways but Sam knew it was nothing compared to what Harvey felt. Amanda was Harvey’s first and only love. The love of his life, as he wrote it, over and over again in not the best of poetry. Harvey wasn’t a writer but when Amanda left, he penned pages and pages. It was like his heart was exploding and the only thing he could do was write without ceasing for hours on end.
Finally losing her calm, Amanda’s otherwise dark eyes flashed with anger and frustration, “Harvey! I can’t do this anymore! I need to be able to be my own person!”
And that’s when Harvey fell to the floor and never got back up. They needed her to come back. They needed her to help get Harvey off the floor. But Sam knew Amanda better than that and what Jenn would label as hope, Sam would call delusional. Harvey was too much for Amanda, he was too much for most people. He needed to learn to be strong on his own; she had to be let go because he was drowning her. He was choking the life out of the only person who’d ever looked at Harvey and saw something substantial.
Finally losing her calm, Amanda’s otherwise dark eyes flashed with anger and frustration, “Harvey! I can’t do this anymore! I need to be able to be my own person!”
And that’s when Harvey fell to the floor and never got back up. They needed her to come back. They needed her to help get Harvey off the floor. But Sam knew Amanda better than that and what Jenn would label as hope, Sam would call delusional. Harvey was too much for Amanda, he was too much for most people. He needed to learn to be strong on his own; she had to be let go because he was drowning her. He was choking the life out of the only person who’d ever looked at Harvey and saw something substantial.
With that thought, Sam decided to do the laundry. Harvey needed clean clothes if he had any interviews and it was a good thing to do. It made him feel good. Productive.
Sam picked up various items of clothing from around the apartment ranging from comfortable to business casual, hoping to give Harvey a few choices to pick through later on when he decided to get moving.
Always plan for a future and there will be a future.
A motto Sam relied on often to get him through his day to day. Always plan for a future and there will be a future. That future might just be this load of laundry, but it was a future nonetheless. It was the metaphorical putting one foot in front of the other. It was moving forward, a place Harvey desperately needed to be.
Sam closed the lid on the washer and leaned heavily on the appliance, feeling his resolve begin to falter and fall away. He breathed in deeply, he needed to at least finish this load of laundry. He needed to at least get through the rest of the afternoon. He could do it. He could wade through the sudden wave of listlessness that inundated his senses. He was floating away or free falling. Vertigo pulled him to the floor and Sam laid there, prone for some time, the world spinning silently around him. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the comforting sound of the washer going through its cycles.
He thought about the cigarette butts in the coffee cup and he thought about his own coffee sitting on the dining room table next to his laptop. These were all real, physical things that he could visualize and focus on. He felt the episode recede and he quietly moved to a sitting position with his back firmly against the wall, his knees hugged almost to his chest.
Time passed and the washer completed its cycle, signaling Sam to move the clothes over to the dryer. He got to feet his feet and swallowed residual nausea. He started the load and decided he needed to get something to eat.
It’d been a while since he’d eaten anything and none of them had gone grocery shopping recently. Besides venturing out might be good for him. Get him out of this apartment, away from these feelings, and let him just breathe for a moment.
Sam picked up various items of clothing from around the apartment ranging from comfortable to business casual, hoping to give Harvey a few choices to pick through later on when he decided to get moving.
Always plan for a future and there will be a future.
A motto Sam relied on often to get him through his day to day. Always plan for a future and there will be a future. That future might just be this load of laundry, but it was a future nonetheless. It was the metaphorical putting one foot in front of the other. It was moving forward, a place Harvey desperately needed to be.
Sam closed the lid on the washer and leaned heavily on the appliance, feeling his resolve begin to falter and fall away. He breathed in deeply, he needed to at least finish this load of laundry. He needed to at least get through the rest of the afternoon. He could do it. He could wade through the sudden wave of listlessness that inundated his senses. He was floating away or free falling. Vertigo pulled him to the floor and Sam laid there, prone for some time, the world spinning silently around him. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the comforting sound of the washer going through its cycles.
He thought about the cigarette butts in the coffee cup and he thought about his own coffee sitting on the dining room table next to his laptop. These were all real, physical things that he could visualize and focus on. He felt the episode recede and he quietly moved to a sitting position with his back firmly against the wall, his knees hugged almost to his chest.
Time passed and the washer completed its cycle, signaling Sam to move the clothes over to the dryer. He got to feet his feet and swallowed residual nausea. He started the load and decided he needed to get something to eat.
It’d been a while since he’d eaten anything and none of them had gone grocery shopping recently. Besides venturing out might be good for him. Get him out of this apartment, away from these feelings, and let him just breathe for a moment.
*
This is annoying. Mike thought petulantly as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of his car, third in line still for them to even take his order. And he had to stop at the gas station still for smokes and something to drink.
He checked the balance on the debit card and made a face. He was definitely going to order more food than what that number allowed. Practical Sam would bitch but Mike couldn’t care less, to be honest. Honestly, fuck this whole thing. This whole reality was a dumpster fire of misery. If Sam didn’t want him to have a couple extra burritos then fuck him. He wasn’t doing shit as far as Mike was concerned. He just wandered around aimlessly all day and bitched.
Him and Jenn, bitch and moan and nag.
Mike ordered his food, making sure to order extra for Harvey later that night, and handed the cashier the emergency credit card. Food was like an emergency. Food was definitely an emergency. He told himself the same thing when he bought a carton of cigarettes for himself and Harvey to share as well as an eighteen pack of beer.
Him and Jenn, bitch and moan and nag.
Mike ordered his food, making sure to order extra for Harvey later that night, and handed the cashier the emergency credit card. Food was like an emergency. Food was definitely an emergency. He told himself the same thing when he bought a carton of cigarettes for himself and Harvey to share as well as an eighteen pack of beer.
Maybe Sam just hadn’t tried being not sober. Maybe Sam just didn’t know that they could turn it off for a while. All of it. Everything. You can forget the whole world is burning down around you if you really want to.
Mike loved returning to a quiet, empty apartment. He shook the stress out of his shoulders and took the beer and food to the kitchen, getting ready for another night by himself. Well, not really by himself. Harvey would be around sooner or later and he had his guild.
Mike booted up his gaming console and the tv, located his headset amidst the trash around his chair, and was ready to get the night underway.
He connected to the lobby and noted that his friends were already all there. Perfect, good. He didn’t have to wait for anyone. They could just get started. No one had to make small talk, no one had to ask him how he was doing. No one had to ask him how his day was or why it’d been long. He could just be a voice on a headset. No responsibilities, no priorities. He held his third beer of the night up to his microphone and popped the tab.
“ASMR, quality content,” he half-whispered, taking a full gulp.
He connected to the lobby and noted that his friends were already all there. Perfect, good. He didn’t have to wait for anyone. They could just get started. No one had to make small talk, no one had to ask him how he was doing. No one had to ask him how his day was or why it’d been long. He could just be a voice on a headset. No responsibilities, no priorities. He held his third beer of the night up to his microphone and popped the tab.
“ASMR, quality content,” he half-whispered, taking a full gulp.
There was a chorus of chuckles and hellos as everyone recognized him and Mike sunk back into the comfort of being in a different space for a while, forgetting about the trash cradling his person.
When is the fucking sun going to exist again?
Part Two:
Tuesday
.morning.
Mike kept his eyes closed, trying to block out the realization that he was in the bathtub again.
He was always waking up in the bathtub. What was so special about the fucking bathtub? Amanda used to say it had to do with anxiety and security and a lost sense of self. “Fuck Amanda.” He outwardly grumbled while he moved to a more sitting position, taking in the wreckage around him from the night before.
He looked down at his shirt, that was, in fact, Sam’s shirt, and noted it was smeared with either old burrito or old vomit, he couldn’t rightly tell. Yet another thing for Sam to bitch about. Oh well. He rubbed his face with both hands and tried to think through the lingering brain fog that always came with being awake.
He looked down at his shirt, that was, in fact, Sam’s shirt, and noted it was smeared with either old burrito or old vomit, he couldn’t rightly tell. Yet another thing for Sam to bitch about. Oh well. He rubbed his face with both hands and tried to think through the lingering brain fog that always came with being awake.
He was doing his part, wasn’t he? Weren’t they all just doing their part for Harvey? Harvey. Where was Harvey this morning? He’d been home last night but only long for him to drink too much and puke all over the toilet. Other than that he was virtually MIA. But that’s the way Harvey liked it. He kept his own hours and those hours he kept to himself.
That was the way of Harvey and that was why Mike was here so that the others wouldn’t overwhelm him. At his core, Harvey was delicate and prone to disaster if pushed too hard. Sam and Jenn didn’t get that. Especially Sam.
Get up, Harvey. Get a job, Harvey.
Harvey was doing his fucking best just to stay alive. Maybe Sam should get up and get a job. Had he ever thought of that? No, he hadn’t because Sam was a putz. “Putz,” Mike said the word out loud, it even sounded like Sam. He said it again, this time deepening his voice and really annunciating the word,
That was the way of Harvey and that was why Mike was here so that the others wouldn’t overwhelm him. At his core, Harvey was delicate and prone to disaster if pushed too hard. Sam and Jenn didn’t get that. Especially Sam.
Get up, Harvey. Get a job, Harvey.
Harvey was doing his fucking best just to stay alive. Maybe Sam should get up and get a job. Had he ever thought of that? No, he hadn’t because Sam was a putz. “Putz,” Mike said the word out loud, it even sounded like Sam. He said it again, this time deepening his voice and really annunciating the word,
“Putz.”
Rude.
Mike felt a tug. A pull. A woozy sensation he would not label welcoming. That meant it was time for one thing and one thing only. Morning beer.
He pulled himself from the bathtub and tossed the soiled shirt onto the floor before grabbing a cleanish one from a full basket. Morning beers always hit a little better than afternoon beers. Afternoon beers were born out of frustration and grief. Morning beers were beautiful creatures coming to fill you up and give you life all day before the hangover from the night before could set in.
He loved morning beers.
Harvey loved morning beers.
Sam and Jenn should really try morning beers.
Harvey loved morning beers.
Sam and Jenn should really try morning beers.
“Huh,” Mike uttered aloud as he realized there wasn’t anything left in the fridge. Harvey had come and gone and taken more than Mike thought. He told himself he didn’t mind it. Harvey needed what Harvey needed but Mike was still peeved he now had to go out before he could settle in for another day of doing absolutely nothing.
A trip through the drive-thru and a stop at the gas station later and Mike was successfully back at home, logged on and ready to fucking get back at it.
The sun was going down through the shades and Mike still hadn’t touched the fast food he’d bought himself hours before. He’d lost track of the time between raids and was only roused back to the land of the living by the rather intense need to urinate.
Stumbling to the bathroom, he caught sight of himself in the mirror and felt his stomach turn over. He avoided mirrors for a reason and he didn’t want to have to deal with that reason tonight. His whole point was to not deal with anything. He was the suspension of reality...or so he thought as he tried not to pee all over himself, steadying his body by using one hand to firmly clutch the shower curtain.
He just didn’t want to have to deal with the uncertainty of it all. Couldn’t Sam get that? Couldn’t Sam figure it out for himself? If he was so fucking smart, why couldn’t he understand that there was no possible way any of them were going to save Harvey so they may as well just let Harvey have a good time?
Harvey’s not having a good time.
They just needed to get with the program, get on board. Making Harvey get a job wasn’t helping Harvey. It was reminding Harvey what he could and couldn’t do. Dishwasher? Busboy? Is that really what Sam thought all Harvey was capable of? Couldn’t he see he was just tearing Harvey down? Cutting him off at the knees? Telling him to get off the fucking floor but not giving him anywhere to go.
Sometimes you gotta just let things be as they are. Harvey clearly wasn’t ready to do whatever Sam wanted him to do and Sam needed to respect that. Harvey had boundaries. Sam needed to respect Harvey’s boundaries. And frankly, Mike wasn’t going to argue about it anymore. He flushed the toilet and stumbled away from the mirror and the bathroom and everything else he was avoiding, feeling more resolved than ever, satisfied in his small emotional rant against everyone else.
He was going to enjoy himself. No matter what sort of negativity Jenn and Sam brought to the table, he was going to make sure he did his part and took care of Harvey.
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