Kristin E. Andersen's Word Studio

Hardly Harvey

Harvey Hanover could hardly get up in the morning.

“It’s a beautiful day out there, Harvey,” said his mother. “You don’t want to miss it.”

“Yes I do,” said Harvey.

Harvey Hanover could hardly finish his breakfast.

“Hurry up, Harvey,” said his mother. “You’ve got a bus to catch.”

“I’m going back to bed,” said Harvey.

Harvey Hanover could hardly pay attention in class.

“Harvey,” said his teacher, “I know you know the capital of Uzbekistan. We’ve been studying it all week.”

“I guess I slept through that,” said Harvey.

His teacher made him miss recess again. He was always missing recess.

Harvey didn’t really mind. It was another chance to squeeze out some Zs.

One day while everyone else was at recess and Harvey was dozing at his desk as usual –

“Pssst!”

Harvey hardly heard anything.

“Hey you!”

Harvey sleepily cracked open an eyelid and there was a worm on his desk and it was waving at him.

“Hey, I’m talking to you!” said the worm.

“I’m trying to sleep,” said Harvey.

“I’m not just any worm, you know. I’m a magic worm.”

“I’d like you better if you were a quiet worm.”

“Now, listen here. I didn’t ask to be in this story. I told them, I said, `Send a fairy godmother or a magic frog, why don’t you. No one’s going to buy a magic worm.’”

“So?” said Harvey.

“They sent me anyway. `Budgets are tight these days,’ they said. `We have to economize,’ they said. The least you could do is hear me out.”

“Make it quick,” yawned Harvey. “I need my rest.”

“I’m supposed to give you this.”

“A speck of dust?”

“No, it’s a coupon for one free secret password.” The worm clapped his little worm hands* and the speck grew to normal coupon size.

“What do I need that for?” asked Harvey.

“Beats me,” said the worm. “But whoever has it has to redeem it when the time comes.”

“Thanks,” said Harvey, “but I’d rather grab 40 winks.”

“Too late. I can’t take it back.”

“What you mean I have to redeem it when the time comes?”

“That’s not my department,” said the worm. “But I can tell you this – everybody will be counting on you, so I’d be on my toes.”

“Worms don’t have toes.”

“How do you know?”

“Couldn’t you bother somebody else?”

“You are Austin Ackerman, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m Harvey Hanover. Austin’s at recess.”

Austin Ackerman was an A-student and all-around ambitious guy.

“Oops,” said the worm. “Oh well, it’s yours now.”

“But – ”

“Remember – ” said the worm.

“I know, toes,” said Harvey. “But – ”

“Good luck!” said the worm.

“But –”

The worm disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Harvey Hanover hardly knew what to make of it.

He shoved the coupon in his pocket and resumed his snooze. In day or two he forgot all about it.

Sometime later a troll moved to town.

Harvey Hanover hardly noticed because he was still sawing logs at every opportunity.

The troll built himself a castle and took over the town’s only thoroughfare and put up a gate. Next to the gate the troll built – what else? – a troll booth. Nobody could pass through the gate unless they answered the troll’s question.

“What’s the secret password?” the troll always asked through a tiny barred window.

“Open sesame?”

“No.”

“Abracadabra?”

“No.”

“Pretty please with sugar on top?”

“No.”

Whenever someone answered wrong, which was always, a buzzer sounded, a trap door opened and the poor unsuspecting person got to join the Dungeon Club.

Pretty soon most people in town were Dungeon Club members.

Everyone else had to shop at the troll store and pay exorbitant prices. On Tuesdays, to keep the troll happy, they had to bring him treats, specifically truffles and raspberry tarts. In short, the troll made life totally terrible.

Harvey Hanover heard about this, of course, but he wasn’t really concerned. He had some shut-eye to catch up on.

But after school one day his mother cried, “Harvey, I have horrible news. Your father and your sister Harriet have joined the Dungeon Club. What are we going to do?”

“Sleep on it?” said Harvey.

“Oh, Harvey. Is that your answer for everything?”

“I don’t know. What’s for dinner?”

“Noodles.”

Lately, it was always noodles. Prices were so exorbitant at the troll store, noodles was all they could afford.

At dinner that night, Harvey asked his mother, “So, what’s the Dungeon Club like anyway?”

“Dreadful, I’m sure,” said his mother.

“They have comfortable beds there, don’t they?”

“Oh no,” said his mother. “Dungeons are dark and damp and dingy. They’re no place for sleeping, as you’ll soon see for yourself.”

“Huh?”

“Unless somebody comes up with that secret password, we’ll be Dungeon Club members by the end of the week. ”

Harvey Hanover hardly wanted to hear a thing like that.

“Can’t somebody do something?” he cried, so worried he just pushed the last noodle around on his plate instead of eating it.

“Harvey, don’t play with your food.”

The noodle made a squiggle, kind of like a snake or a – “Mom, did I ever tell you about the magic worm I met at school?”

“Oh, Harvey – you must be dreaming. Wake up and go to bed.”

“But the worm gave me something, I think.”

“Harvey, I’m no mood for jokes.”

She sent him to his room.

For the first time ever Harvey wasn’t sleepy. The magic worm really had given him something. But what? He tossed and turned all night trying to remember.

“It was a coupon,” he told his mother the next morning.

“A coupon?” said his mother. “What are you talking about?”

“The magic worm gave me a coupon.”

“Harvey, honey, let it go – there’s so such thing as a magic worm.”

“Yes, there is.”

“No, there isn’t. I could buy a magic frog or, in a pinch, a fairy godmother, but a worm? Maybe you’re coming down with something.”

“I’m fine, Mom.”

“All right, then, show me the coupon.”

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t remember where he’d put it. After all, he’d slept since then.

Nobody believed him at school either.

“Are you sleep-deprived?” said Austin Ackerman.

“Hardly,” said Harvey.

“Whoever heard of a magic worm? And why would it bother with you? Magic creatures only appear to energetic Type As, like me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Anyway, who needs magic when you’ve got one of these?” Austin pulled out a ping pong paddle. He was a star athlete.

“What are going to do with that?” asked Harvey.

“Save our town,” said Austin. Austin had challenged the troll to a best two out of three. The match was set for later that day.

“I’ll make mincemeat of him,” Austin declared. “He’ll have to free everyone in the Dungeon Club and I’ll be the hero.”

“Are you kidding?” said Harvey.

“Watch me,” sneered Austin. “If you can stay awake.” He laughed in Harvey’s face and left.

Harvey Hanover could hardly let Austin Ackerman get away with that.

But what good was a coupon? Even if he could find it, he couldn’t remember what it was for. What if it was for 50 percent off fruit cocktail or something?

But if Austin Ackerman beat the troll, Austin would gloat.

Harvey could hardly stand the thought.

So he did what he always did in these circumstances. He went home, crawled under the covers and drifted off.

While he was sleeping, he dreamed and in his dream he heard someone say, “whoever has it has to redeem it when the time comes.” What did that mean? No one in the dream would tell him. He tossed and turned. Someone else said, “Everyone will be counting on you.” But he didn’t know why and there were toes everywhere and he kept asking over and over, “What time is it?”

Suddenly Harvey sat bolt upright. He finally remembered where the coupon was and what it was for.

He only hoped he wasn’t too late.

Meanwhile, at the ping pong match –

“One more point and this town is mine, all mine,” said the troll. The troll had already won the first game and Austin was behind 20 to nothing in the second.

“Fool,” laughed the troll. “Only a hero could stop me now.”

“Uh, that would be me,” said Austin.

He was just boasting, of course. The town was going down and everyone in it.

“Wait!” cried Harvey.

“Who are you?” demanded the troll.

“Ignore him,” said Austin. “He’s a lunatic. Serve, troll. I’ve got you right where I want you.”

“Please!” cried Harvey.

“Go away, Harvey,” said Austin. “You’re hardly hero material.”

“But I have to redeem this.”

“Redeem what?” said the troll.

“This coupon,” said Harvey.

“Don’t listen to him,” said Austin. “He’s sleepwalking.”

“What coupon?” said the troll. “You think you’re going to save this town with a coupon?”

The troll and Austin and everyone in the crowd laughed.

“But it’s for one free secret password,” said Harvey.

“What?” said the troll. “Let me see that.”

Harvey handed it over. “A magic worm gave it to me.”

“Are you sure it was a worm?”

“Sure, I’m sure. He said something about budget cuts.”

“Oh,” said the troll.

“And if you check the fine print, the bearer of the coupon is also entitled to one free wish,” said Harvey.

“Sheesh,” said the troll. “That marketing department will be the death of me.”

“Well?” said Harvey.

“Fine,” said the troll. He whispered the secret password in Harvey’s ear. “Now, what’s your wish?”

Harvey wished the troll would free everyone in the Dungeon Club. The townspeople cheered. Well, everyone except Austin Ackerman.

Then because Harvey told everyone the password, it wasn’t secret anymore. The troll had to close his troll booth. The troll store closed, too, thanks to restored price competition. The troll moved to Manhattan and got into hedge funds.

Austin Ackerman went on to devote his life to ping pong, eventually becoming chairman of the board of Table Tennis Inc., proving, of course, that business, not fairy tales, really is the best place for Type As.

And Harvey Hanover got to be the hero, thanks to a magic worm. Hardly what you’d expect – but that’s how things go sometimes.

“Well, Harvey,” said his mother, after all the parades and the parties in his honor were over, “I’m proud of you. You were really on your toes. You must be tired. How about a nap?”

“No thanks,” said Harvey. He was going to do all his sleeping at night from now on. After all, maybe if he were awake, more interesting things would happen.

Harvey Hanover could hardly wait.

THE END

*I know what you’re thinking and they do so.