Harvey

By Ed Merwede

This book is almost fiction. I say almost because many sections remind the reader of a portion of their lives. It’s not easy writing a book of fiction based on fact. Somewhere in this writing, you will say, “Oy, he’s writing about me.”

I love life and absolutely abhor strife. I didn’t have any choice in joining this group. Two people locked in the arms of passion sexually express their love. Now, at this point, I’m only an egg, and I see what I never saw before—a huge race of Olympic swimmers racing toward me! One grabs me, says hello, and the door slams shut.

OK, I’m here. Read on.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 24, 2018
• ISBN: 9781984553959

Ed Merwede

ED MERWEDE, also the author of “DONE!” started his career with Yale University Press. After eleven years as plant superintendent, he went on to manage three other printing companies before starting his own business with his wife, Ellen. That business, PrintAbility, operated for fourteen successful years, before the couple retired to Cape Cod, Massachusetts. In the late 1990s, the author was diagnosed with syringomyelia, caused by a very severe crash while serving on a US Naval Air Station. Ed is listed as 100 percent disabled with the Veterans Affairs Office. His wife of thirty-five years, Ellen, died in November of 2014. He is now living in an assisted living facility on Cape Cod.

Book preview

Harvey

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The Lawyer

ED MERWEDE

Copyright © 2018 by Ed Merwede.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 11/05/2018

Xlibris

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

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Contents

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

After you’re born and you finally

begin to get your wits about you,

you think this is pretty good!

Everyone oohs and aahs and wants

to hold you. This is the football part of

your new life.

You then pass into the telephone stage.

They don’t show up, and you are no longer the center of

attraction. Oh, they still care, but now it’s down to How’s the kid?

Life is still good. You can still control your parents by crying, whining,

and demanding attention. You’re too young to know that one day

you will be one of them.

This book is almost fiction.

I say almost because many sections

remind the reader of a portion of their life.

It’s not easy writing a book of fiction based

on fact.

Somewhere in this writing, you will say,

Oy, he’s writing about me.

I love life and absolutely abhor strife. I didn’t have any choice in joining

this group. Two people locked in the arms of passion sexually

express their love. Now at this point, I’m only an egg, and I see what I

never saw before—a huge race of Olympic swimmers racing toward me!

One grabs me and says hello, and the door slams shut.

OK, I’m here. Read on …

If you decide

to read this—there

are only five chapters—this should

be chapter 2. You already read

how I got started, so let’s call it

Chapter Two.

Chapter Two

You’ll have to forgive me here, because I’m going to jump back to what should have been chapter one. Just one of my first accomplishment. Now I didn’t think that you could remember that far back, but this was a good one on my part and I guess it just stuck.

Do you remember what I called the Football time of my life Well I’m in my crib, ready to take a nap, when, the doorbell rings, and people start coming in. I thought to myself, Oy, here we go. I try to make believe I’m asleep, but no, that’s not going to work. Granted at this time in my short life I have no opinion. Oh, I have one, but I don’t know how to communicate yet. First lady, Oh, he’s such a doll, can I hold him? I say to myself, OK, here we go, once around the room."

My mom, always the gracious hostess, says, Of course, he likes to be held. She and I are going to have a serious conversation, as soon as I learn to talk! OK, I’m in the arms of the first lady, trying to turn my head and seeing how many more to go, damn this stinks! OK, into the arms of number two. She obviously is not crazy about babies and almost immediately passes me on, like a lateral pass. And last, but by no means least, is the final lady. What ever she’s wearing for a perfume, smells like a locker room. Now this part is great, it’s the only way I can express an opinion. I’ve had to make a bowel movement and have held it off for this lady. Target is in sight, bombs away! Oy vey. She shouts, here have him back My mother takes me away, and changes me, and brings me back in the room. This lady has not had enough, and says, Let me hold him again. I held onto my urine for just this chance. She took me in her arms and I let go again, trickling into her cleavage. End of story, but good, eh?"

I am now a bit older, after my birthday, from what I pick up from conversations, this is a way of telling how long you’ve been around. Ah! And a big step forward for me. I come out of the crib and I’m placed in what everyone calls a play pen. Boy am I happy! There’s more room to roll around and they put things in here for me to play with. Mazel Tov! I’m very happy!

This goes on for a few months and then I do something stupid. I crawl to the side of the crib and pull myself up. I’m standing I say to myself! My mother comes racing into the