The latest Dead Park book, Dead Park Classified, tells the story about Dead Park’s past. You want to know what happened at the secret military base that once stood where Dead Park Plaza and the Shops at Dead Park now sit? Your time has come.
Dead Park Classified also pays off a bit from Return to Dead Park. It reveals the secrets behind the tiny, white dog sitting on a desk watching old 1960s television. It reveals that Charles is actually… well, the term “chupacabra” wasn’t known in the year the story takes place, but that’s exactly who he was.
And like all the cryptids who worked at the Lead Park Munitions Plant, Charles had one job: hunt and kill Russian spies.
Charles, of course, was inspired by my own dog. His full name was Charlie, but we shortened it to the more dignified Charles, largely because dignified was the exact opposite of who he was.
Charles was a cantankerous old fellow. He hated a leash, didn’t need one. We took him out every morning, and he peed and pooped right on the driveway.
Charles slept in the bed most of the time we had him. He loved watching TV. In fact, if there was a storm outside, he had to watch TV. Not just any TV program would do on a story night, either. It had to be Community. I kid you not. If we turned on Community, he’d settle and go to sleep.
Don’t get me wrong. Charles was not bright. He just had his ways. An we were constantly learning new things about him, even in his latter years. He developed a taste for pumpkin last Halloween.
Correction: he developed food aggression over pumpkin last Halloween!
Sadly, as you might have guessed, Charles is no longer with us. He passed right before the release of Dead Park Classified, which is why the book is also dedicated to him.
Charles is missed every day. We miss his happy dances, his utter refusal to obey a simple command (Sit? What’s sit?), his crusty face, the occasional snuggles, and his perpetual little man syndrome.
But Charles will live on thanks to Dead Park. He’s part of the story. Not only that, he’s on every single page of our website. Yep, that’s him, peeping out at you on the banner images of every page.
Always watching, wondering what the hell you’re doing, and when you’re going to give him another hash brown.
There’s already a new dog in the office, and I’ll probably write about her another time. But this post is for Charles. Thank for the memories, old guy. Wish you were here to bask in your big moment. Not that it would mean anything to you in the slightest.