The Cool Uncle

"How? Carl, how did you do it? I can't understand it." Said Martin into the empty house as he opened the envelope.

A week ago, Martin met Carl again after what seems to be a lifetime, but it was just a month. The door opened, the arms opened, everyone hugged and were ready for a good time. 

Carl was always a rascal, but one with charm. He nailed the whole collection of eyebrow-raising phrases. He was a bit of an artist in this regard. Rarely did one hear such a well delivered "mistakes were made." or "I can already see how we can turn this around!". Don't get me started on Carl & the ladies. Okay, not describing it to you would be a mistake made. Let's say that when Martin & Carl sat in the living room, beers at their lips, their heels on the table, the phone vibrated so often that Martin worried about the health of his table. It turned into a fun competition of coming up with the most swaggering, trollish, out-there messages that Carl could use.   

"Sorry, you are a Diet Coke girl, but I presently reside in a Bordeaux environment."  

"sry, w u mean?????"

Although Carl had the skills, he had it bad for airheaded party girls, not for the more sophisticated ladies who understand sentences with commas or more refined words. Those ladies would have been a blessing for him as he was good at making bad life decisions. Most often, he was unemployed or bordered on it with his 'just-enough-money-to-live' jobs.

Martin was the absolute opposite of him. Harmonious, sometimes a bit too much, good choices in career, friends, and ladies. He was so agreeable that his wife left him for being too much of a people pleaser. His reaction? Absolve her, and every month he cut the lawn of her new house. Crazy how some people can live this way. Some people are too kind for this world, I suppose.

Carl didn't hold back anything, "Man, I need some help." Before even hearing what he may have said, Martin offered his unconditional help, "Don't worry, come in. We will solve everything." 

Carl offered his typical sob story. Women, alcohol, bad decisions, and every other trope that fits such a situation. Martin ate it up, but that is not enough. He invited him to live with him for the foreseeable future. That poor fool even forgot some of the most important things that one should discuss beforehand.

The first week was already closer to okay than to good. Carl did here and there some things, but mostly he didn't do much in the house. Working was something he sometimes did, but nothing stable. Once the first month passed and nothing improved - quite the opposite - Martin confronted Carl.

"Carl, you know that I love you more than family—" 

"Yeah, yeah, I know, but you have to think about my situation." Carl tried to fend off the upcoming monologue, but Martin decided beforehand that he won't let him off the hook.

"You need to get a job as fast as you can, and when I say job, I mean a real job. Stealing car radios is no real job. Bitcoin trader is no real job—" 

"You underestimate the possibilities!" Carl crashed in.

"Selling lemonade is no real job. Get something real, honest, and trustworthy." Martin closed this part of his lecture.

"To sum it up: Be like you, and then get a wife who leaves you for a guy like me?" Carl inquired from a defensive position.

It hit Martin, and he said something that he always feared that he would someday say. He quoted his father:

"I am very disappointed in you."

Carl said nothing, and with a hanging head, he moved towards the front door. He left the house without a coat. Martin wasn't sure if he said too much, or he just said enough so that Carl will now work hard. Conflicted, he stayed in the living room, for now at least.

It was cold outside; it was still foggy, just like it was a few hours ago in the morning. Carl knew Martin was right, but he didn't want it to be true. More importantly, he didn't want to hear such a thing from him. Martin, always overly correct, but in the end - a fool. That's how Carl viewed him, although he still liked him much. Martin is a good guy, just too much of a good guy, you know? 

That "disappointed in you"-phrase hurt enough that he left the house and walked down the street, away from him.

At this point, Martin tended towards him being too harsh on Carl. He ran outside, "Hey Carl, come back in." He didn't get an answer, not even an echo. "Carl?" The silence was an answer.

"I can't help him anymore. I guess," Martin concluded as he tried to act like this situation didn't hurt him. He wasn't able to deceive himself.

More than a week passed as Martin suddenly got a new neighbor. Great! was Martin's first thought. No surprise, a good guy is a good neighbor. He looked over the fence, and he hoped that he would be able to see and instantly welcome the new friendly face in the neighborhood. Huh? The new ones aren't anywhere around. That made him a bit uncomfortable. He knew the script: Be the first face they see, great them, become friends, and then - games night!

One of the movers saw Martin standing there at the fence. 

The mover moved, the lurker lurked. 

"What are you doing over there?" The mover questioned him. 

"Oh, sorry!" Martin began defensively, "I was just wondering if the new family is already around."

"Uff, I don't know if I want to answer that," the mover remarked, "you look a bit suspicious. Who in this day in age stands at the fence like a happy child when a new neighbor arrives?"

Martin, a good conversationalist, felt the movers deep mistrust and started a good chat. Martin was so invested in gaining this random man's trust that he never glanced to the left and right. The mover opened up, and he told Martin that the new couple arrives tomorrow. Such a rascal! Martin thought he could have disclosed that earlier! Well, now I know it. 

Martin entered his home again and only saw an empty house. Empty except for an envelope on the floor. He was barely able to keep his composure. Nonetheless, he knew that he has to find out what is in this envelope. On the front of it is the following phrase, "Carl says 'Hi'"

"How? Carl, how did you do it? I can't understand it." Said Martin into the empty house as he opened the envelope.

In it was an invitation to the nude wedding of his ex-wife and Carl.