#23 : Harvey - Got Home

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When he got home he cleaned up, took the last of the food from his lunch book, his smartphone and a bottle of vodka outside to sit the table on his small balcony. He’d drink vodka, surf the net, and read until he was sufficiently drunk to go to sleep. Then he’d go inside, lay down, and pass out.

(and he dreamed bad dreams)

BrrrrrrIiiiNnnnnnGggggg

The Alarm clock went off. Harvey woke up screaming, as usual, it was his morning routine. He rolled over and slapped the damn thing. Tuesday morning. Time to get up. Time to go to work.

So it went. So it had gone. Every day was like the day before it.

Just as it had been for the last fifteen years.

Every morning he woke up screaming. It seemed as if he had a different dream for each morning.

Except for weekends.

Weekends were different. On Friday night when Harvey got home from work, his schedule varied. He cleaned up as usual but then his routine changed. He’d hurriedly eat his last sandwich, then gather his dirty clothes together. He’d get on his bicycle and drop them off at the Chinese Laundry. In the early years Harvey had done his laundry himself at the Laundromat. He’d discovered the Chinese laundry quite by accident. It was actually cheaper for him to have the Chinese do it for him than to do it himself.

That chore taken care of, Harvey would ride his bicycle to the bus stop. From there he’d catch a bus ride to the lake. The bus had a bicycle rack. It could carry several bicycles. Harvey would ride the bus as far as he could then ride his bicycle the rest of the way.

There was a U-Store-it on the shore. Harvey had a unit rented. He’d open the door, roll his bicycle inside, lean it against the wall..and haul out his boat. The boat was pre-packed from the last time he’d used it with a supply of pure grain alcohol and fishing gear.

Harvey would spend the weekend boating, alone. Mostly he just paddled around the lake and into the swamp. When hungry he’d find something to eat. He’d learned to live off the land while in the military, lakes and swamps were easy.

He wanted to be alone.

He took his boat to places that other, larger, boats couldn’t go. He’d paddle about, fish and hunt or just read books on his smartphone. He had a solar powered battery charger for his phone. He slept in his boat among the reeds, the marshes and the mudflats. He drank alcohol constantly. He didn’t have an alarm clock and didn’t need one. He didn’t miss it waking him up from his sleep. He didn’t miss thinking the ring was an incoming 105 round, a stream of fire from a mini-gun, or some other type of ordinance. He didn’t miss waking up screaming.

It was pleasant on the lake, except for the mosquitoes..

Sunday evening wasn’t so pleasant. He’d return to the storage unit, restock from the nearby bait-shop, store his boat, then ride his bicycle to the bus stop. From there it took him to his stop in town near the Chinese laundry. He’d pick up his clean clothes and go back to his apartment.

Just as he had been doing for the last fifteen years.

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