Harvey

• Mykaela Baillie , Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2014

Harvey, home from ‘band’ practice, placed his amp on the coffee table near the T.V and made his way to the kitchen for a drink.
Again he was surprised by Kate’s presence. She’d been living with him for what? 2 weeks? And he still forgot she occupied this space. You’d think she’d have greeted him upon arrival, but no.
Now he wasn’t sure whether it was still okay to grab a cold beer or not. Should he offer her one? Was it okay for new mothers to drink?


“Hey” he said.
“Hey.”
“Uh do you want a uh…” He said opening the fridge door.
“Uh no. No thanks” Harvey nodded, pulled out a cold new bottle and moved into the lounge room. It was 6:13. Harvey slumped down on the old ‘couch’ if that’s what you’d call it, settled and began flipping through the channels.
News. News. Sport. News.
He put on news anyway, though he didn’t really care enough to pay attention.
“You cooking?” He yelled over his shoulder, eyes fixated on the screens glow.
Kate came into the room cradling a small resting bundle.
“Wanna get pizza?”
“Yeah, cool.”
He’d known Kate for a while, nearing two years he thought? Maybe just one year actually. He couldn’t really remember. She was cool he supposed. In his books she could cook, sort of, and pleasure him so, yeah she was cool. He guessed.

Harvey was listening to the news now, just to avoid having to look at Kate. He tried to look interested in the horrific story that was displayed; some terrible dad who killed his son coming home from cricket or something. Pretty sad he thought.
“Harvey?” Kate said.
“Hmm, yeah?” Harvey replied without turning his focus from this new story about some cycling competition in Sydney. He took a sip of beer.
“I asked how band practice was. Are you even listening to me?”
“Hmm, yeah s’good.” Kate left.
“You getting pizza?” Harvey yelled back down the hall to where she left.
“Do it yourself”

Harvey drained his bottle, and surprised of how little time it took him to polish off a few beers, he headed off through the kitchen and down the hall to take a piss.

“I’m off, you want anything?”
“Could you grab some nappies please?” Kate called. Harvey left.

The streets were always busy at this time of night, flashing lights and loud voices all trying to talk over each other resulting in this mass sound that can be heard by all but understood by no one. Only true city folk knew how it really worked in the city; the city waits for no one
Harvey walked along the busy footpath and stopped at the end of the second street, and, waiting for a break in the traffic, ducked into a small pizza shop across the road.

“What can I get ya sir?” Asked the man at the counter. Harvey couldn’t remember what kind of pizza Kate liked.
“Uh yeah just… a… Hawaiian thanks”
“No worries, just be a minute”
Harvey waited in the corner of the dirty store, white walls, white floor, although not a sterile white, more like the white of a child’s sneaker, beige with age and brown with dirt.
Harvey didn’t think much, almost all of the time, normally he would wait for a minute before he’d walk home and let the television think for him while beer buzzed out the sounds of reality.
“Sir! Your Hawaiian?”
“Uh yeah, ta.” Harvey took the warm box, dropped seven dollars fifty into the man’s hand, and walked out of the store.

Walking home he lowered his concentration to the hot pizza unpleasantly heating his palm and forearm.
He began crossing the road; balancing the hot pizza in his hands as bright headlights pierced his vision and soon his side as he remembered he’d forgotten to get Kate nappies.

The city waits for no one.