Carl the Death Driver
Chapter.1: His Private Death • Part.1
Introduction: Welcome to the first installment of “Carl the Death Driver”, a twelve-chapter work of fiction that I’ll be sharing here weekly. Each chapter will be released in segments of approximately 900 words. New installments will be posted mid-week, and you can follow along as the narrative unfolds in chronological order. As this is a work in progress, the story’s length and structure may evolve during the creative process.
So Far: This is where our story begins. In future installments, you’ll find a brief recap here, in the So Far Section. I hope this helps with context and allows you stay connected to the narrative thread, whether you’re following along weekly or just discovering the story.
Carl died on a Sunday. His time of death was 12:55pm. Manner of death appeared to be natural causes. Carl’s last act took place in the kitchen of his modest two-bedroom home. In the moments before he expired, Carl sat at his kitchen table in the dining nook that looked out upon a narrow backyard surrounded by a worn and tired chain-link fence.
During his last shallow and labored breaths, his body lay splayed on its side between a pealing polka-dot-covered wall and an old wood table with chewed up legs from a dog that passed away many years ago. A stained picture window above streamed bands of dancing light across his static form. Carl’s left arm was pinned beneath his twisted torso and his legs came to rest awkwardly with his right foot entangled in the wooden stretchers of his fallen armchair. A faint pulse echoed the last pumping motion of his heart’s chambers, and then even that last imperceptible sign of life was gone.
The old linoleum flooring surrounding Carl’s body held a thin volume of spreading water. Clear liquid slowly infused with reddish-brown ribbons transforming into thinner threads and plumes of dissolving pink. Over two dozen tiny freshwater fish convulsed and gasped across the thin layer of liquid. Algae coated gravel covered the right side of Carl’s face. The gravel was arranged in slimy clumps held together by remnants of aquatic plant fibers. Carl’s collared blue flannel shirt grew damp soaking up the dirty tank water that sustained life only a moment before. The remains of a twenty-gallon glass aquarium still held some water with a lone fish trapped in one corner of the rectangular showcase that came to rest upon Carl’s neck. Almost void of all water, the weight of the aquarium was still significant, and it flattened the flesh it sat upon. The tank’s low-profile LED hood, filtration system, and suction cup thermostat lay scattered and broken across the floor. Slamming into the side of the tank from an approximate distance of two feet and moving at a speed of just under 20mph, the left frontal bone of Carl’s head only shattered one side of the tank. At the moment of impact, he was not clinically dead. The spectacular collision of Carl’s skull with his peaceful aquarium full of fish and small plant life was the result of gravity when something gave way.
Beyond the momentary chaos of Carl’s body struggling to sustain life and the scattered mess of his final fall, Carl’s grey-blue stucco home continued to hum along with normal efficiency. From the outside, it maintained the appearance of an occupied residence in a small California community. The autumn afternoon sun moved further west dragging the shadow of a large Ponderosa Pine across the tar and gravel roof of Carl’s home. The den with windows facing east was lit with a corner floor lamp and two table lamps on either side of a dated love seat that featured a large wine stain on the left armrest. The three lamps were typically triggered when Carl entered the room but defaulted to automatically turn on at 5:15pm each day with a shutoff set for 1:00am.
The formal dining room had been converted to a workshop where Carl tinkered and fixed things throughout each day. The room was cluttered and challenging to move through. The parquet floors were chipped and missing slats among the varied shades of interlocking teak wood. Dust and grime were in abundance and revealed Carl’s many paths around the encumbered space. At one end, against a wall adjacent to a small pantry hallway leading to the kitchen, stood a marble top buffet. This hand-crafted piece of furniture was orphaned many decades past, displaced from a matching dining room set acquired in an estate sale. Carl stored the other pieces of ornate and inlaid furniture to make room for his many metal storage racks and mismatched work benches. When this room went dark in the early evening it glowed green from an ancient lava lamp kept atop a four-foot-wide steel mail sorter with orange rusted corners that belonged in a warehouse. The open shelves of the mail sorter were overflowing with rolled technical diagrams and hundreds of handwritten notes on lined yellow paper ripped from legal pads.
Forty-eight hours before Carl’s body dropped to his kitchen floor, he was rinsing off empty take-out containers and plastic lids at his sink. The #5 from Cousin Billy’s Rotisserie & Ribs was delivered before noon on a Friday. This exact same meal was delivered to Carl’s home, two days later on a Sunday, as the last meal of his life. One half rotisserie chicken seasoned with dried thyme, paprika, and black pepper was accompanied by two sides and a fountain drink. Carl liked the roasted red new potatoes for their flavonoid antioxidants and the garlic green beans for some intake of vitamins A and C. Everything from Cousin Billy’s was well bathed in butter and salt, which often left Carl feeling conflicted as he attempted to make healthy choices but was subject to the limited control associated with subscribing to delivered food for most of his meals.
Discussion Questions:
- I chose to open with precise details about Carl’s death (time, manner, location). How does this clinical approach to describing his passing affect your reading experience?
- I’ve included many details about Carl’s home environment (the lamps’ timer settings, the workshop’s condition, the orphaned buffet). What do these details reveal to you about Carl’s character and lifestyle?
- The aquarium incident raises questions about what “gave way” before Carl’s fall. What theories do you have about what might have happened in those final moments?
Want to stay connected? Subscribe to my monthly newsletter for story updates and links to recent installments you might have missed. https://neuroticencounter.com/mailing-list/
Teaser: In the next installment, we’ll explore the Friday night that marked the beginning of Carl’s final weekend. Behind his self-imposed isolation lies a web of automated systems and ignored warning signs. What pushed this capable man to shut himself away from the world?
New to Carl’s story? My monthly newsletter provides easy access to recent installments and keeps you in the loop. https://neuroticencounter.com/mailing-list/
