When I had car trouble a few years ago, I called my sister to pick me up from work. She wasn’t feeling up to taking me all the way home that day. I hung out with her for a while and called my dad for a ride home. My dad arrived at my sister’s house in his full-sized pickup truck with a shell, with his friend Carly by his side in the passenger seat. My sister came outside with me to see me off. We both noticed a boy, who we identified as Carly’s son Jimi, in the back of the truck. He looked out of the truck’s shell at my sister and me. He looked happy to see us and gave us a huge smile. My sister and I commented about how we liked Jimi. I hugged my sister goodbye.
As I approached the truck, Carly slid to the middle of the seat to allow room for me. I climbed in and took the passenger side seat. I greeted my dad, gave Carly a hug, and turned around to greet Jimi. Jimi wasn’t there.
I turned to my dad and Carly and asked, “Where’s Jimi?”
Jimi was at his dad’s house, they said. I was quite confused, but insisted that there was a young boy in the back of the truck. The boy smiled at my sister and me. My dad said I was seeing things. As we pulled away, I noticed my sister still outside, waving her hand and smiling at us. A confused look came over her face before she turned around and went back inside her house.
I called my sister later that night to tell her that there was no one in the back of the truck. She was as surprised as I was. She added that as we pulled away, she waved at the little boy, he waved back.
Months went by, during which time my sister and I received some ribbing about the ghost boy. Then it was forgotten, for while. Others started “seeing things” in the back of the truck, inside that shell.
My dad worked as a contractor for a time for Qwest Communications, arranging for service and towing. One hot summer day, my dad answered a call for a broken down truck at Kolb and Valencia. The driver of the disabled vehicle was sitting against a fence when my dad pulled up. It was too hot for him to wait for my dad inside the vehicle. My dad examined the disabled truck, while the driver looked on. The driver asked if it was maybe a little too hot to let the kids stay in the back of the truck with no air conditioning. My dad said there were no kids in his truck. The driver took a closer look, and thoroughly examined my dad’s truck to satisfy himself. He said he distinctly saw kids looking out the shell windows.
Several months later, my dad took a job at a roofing company. One day, he arrived at the roofing yard, parked out front and walked in. Someone at the yard asked if the kids in the back of the truck were his grandchildren. My dad said that there were no children there. The inquirer decided to go outside to make sure. A couple other workers refused to even get near the truck at the mere thought of ghosts, particularly at the thought of ghostly children. The inquirer continued to insist that he saw kids looking out the window, and had even commented to another worker as my dad pulled in, saying that he was probably on his way somewhere with the grandkids.
Once since then, my sister and I joined my dad on a camping trip. Since we had other commitments, we only visited with him for a few hours and ate a steak dinner around the campfire. By nightfall, I kept my back to the truck, as I felt that someone was watching me. So did my sister. We drove back to Tucson through the Coronado National Forest late that night, feeling rather creeped out and quite jumpy.
My dad since removed the camper shell to install a tool box in the back of his truck. The shell sits on my uncle’s property, reserved for occasional camping trips. I don’t know if the “children” are attached to the truck or to the camper shell. It could be a defect in the glass, but that would be an eerie defect, to say the least. My uncle hasn’t reported any activity associated with that shell stored in his yard. There’s seemingly no paranormal activity attached to the truck either.
One day soon, I will take a full camping trip with my dad. Perhaps those kids might come along with my dad. Although the kids in the truck look quite happy and not menacing in any way, I think I’ll keep my back to the truck again and let them play in peace.