Really, though, have you ever seen a truck bring made?
They’re like McDonald’s restaurants – just popping up out of nowhere. Which is why when I saw this truck laying half-buried in the courtyard of the abandoned house next door, I thought perhaps someone else was trying to solve the same mystery.
It was a strange sight, that truck drowned in overgrown grass. At least cover it up with some dirt, man. If you’ve got enough time to dig up a hole for a truck, what’s stopping you from covering it up? This was my thought process every time I walked down the street on my way to work, wondering at how lazy someone must be to half-bury a truck.
The morning I shouted “holy moly”, I was thinking the same thing passing by. Was this a millennial who had done this, what with their short attention spans?
And then I shouted, “Holy moly!”
Molly called out from the balcony, “What happened, dear? You could just give me a call instead of shouting across the street, you know.”
“I wasn’t calling to you, but come look at this here!”
“The truck?” she said, walking down the street. “Why, what’s so amazing abou- Oh.”
There was a metal rod emerging from one the open windows, seemingly coming from inside the truck, curved and branching out like a vine, and at the end of it there hung a miniature streetlight.
“I’m sure it’s one of those abstract art things,” Molly said.
“Yeah. I better be on my way,” I kissed her goodbye and headed off to work.
The next day, a small bumper and half-finished hood were hanging off the same metal branch, along with two other branches holding more miniature streetlights.
“It’s just an abstract art thing,” Molly proclaimed on the phone with a touch of finality in her voice.
I don’t know if abstract artists work at night or are invisible, but every passing day, there seemed to be miniature trucks growing out of the branches.
The soft “vroom”s at night started disturbing our sleep, but Molly maintained that abstract artists used technology in weird ways. They sounded more like “fwoom”s, like high-pitched kitten noises. Over time, they began to develop into high-pitched “vroom”s as the body of the trucklets kept forming and they started growing in size.
One night, I was up in bed watching Netflix and chilling with Molly when I heard a great THWACK from outside. I had heard the deepest “vroom” yet the night before that, so I hurried to look put the window. Several other neighbours tuned their lights on but no one bothered to look out as a three trucks drove off with broken metal rods protruding from their windows, which eventually fell out about 100 meters from where they started.
The next day, as Molly drove past the house on her way to the grocery store, she called me on my phone and said “Those darn abstract artists…”
Sure enough, another metal rod was protruding from the half-buried truck, ready to bear more trucklets.