Peter the Blue Truck by Jacob Watson Peter the Blue Truck lived on top of a big hill overlooking the ocean.
As long as he could remember,
He had wanted to go out onto that wide blue sea.
But he was a truck with a heavy body and four big wheels,
So he would never float.
He put it out of his mind.
He had enough to do to get his engine started and go on his daily errands.
One day,
He rolled out of his cozy garage onto his driveway.
He looked out longingly at the pale blue ocean in the distance.
He let out a big sigh and started down the hill.
He always loved the feel of the wind as he rushed downhill.
He went faster and faster.
He liked that too.
He knew he wasn't the fastest truck around,
But when he got going down this big hill,
He went so fast he felt like he was flying.
He came to the slight curve where he put on his brakes.
He put on his brakes,
But he didn't slow down.
He pushed harder on his brakes.
Nothing happened.
Nothing.
He kept going downhill fast.
Even faster now.
He got worried.
How was he going to stop?
Up ahead in the distance,
He could see the town square with the green town lawn and across from that,
The white church.
But the wind was whistling by now,
Hissing in his face.
Then he remembered Sawyer's Lane.
Just before the town square,
Sawyer's Lane went off to the right up a little hill.
If he could just steer into Sawyer's Lane,
He might be able to slow down and maybe stop going up the hill.
Gravity would slow him down.
Peter concentrated on the road,
Rushing up in front of him.
He pulled his headlight eyes up and looked for the beginning of Sawyer's Lane.
There it was,
Where the white fence stopped.
He wanted to close his eyes,
But he kept them focused on the white fence.
And grunting with effort,
He pulled hard to his right and drove into Sawyer's Lane.
It was narrow and he had to force himself to stay in the middle.
He began to slow down and finally he stopped.
Whew!
He had to catch his breath.
He began to think.
He needed to get his brakes fixed.
He started up again,
This time very slowly,
And got back on the road into town.
Driving very carefully and not going over 10 miles an hour.
He got himself to Charlie's garage and went in to have his brakes fixed.
Several weeks later,
Peter was again at the top of his hill and ready to drive down and into town to do errands.
But he felt different today.
He looked around and it seemed like a normal day.
The sun was out,
The fields stretched off on either side of the road,
And the blue ocean sparkled in the distance,
Calling to him as usual.
Peter felt different.
His head was lighter and he heard a little hum in his ears,
Like a bird calling to him quietly and insistently.
He pushed off and started down the hill.
He tested his brakes just to be sure they were working.
They worked fine.
But he let himself get going fast,
Faster than usual.
He loved going fast.
He looked out again at the blue ocean.
He loved that ocean and he wanted to be out there.
He was going pretty fast now.
He was approaching the town square and he didn't want to stop.
He whizzed right through the town square.
Luckily,
No one was coming and out the other side toward the ocean.
He saw the town beach ahead and steered toward it.
Still going fast,
He bounced over the curb and onto the beach.
He kept driving right across the sand into the ocean.
Finally,
After all this time,
He was going to be in the ocean.
He felt the water slosh up and loved the feel and sound of it.
He slowed down gently as the water held him.
He looked around and the view was as he had always imagined it.
Water everywhere.
It was all light blue and bright and he could see for miles in every direction.
He smiled with satisfaction,
Then began to laugh out loud.
This was so cool!
Then he heard a glub,
Glub.
He felt water.
He looked out and he had sunk into the water a little.
He couldn't see as far now.
Another noise.
Glub,
Glub.
He was sinking.
He began to feel heavy.
He tried driving,
But his engine would not work under water.
The water closed over him.
He was really sinking.
He looked around,
But as he sank,
It got darker.
He began to be mad at himself.
He should not have driven into the ocean.
He was a truck and trucks cannot float.
Now he was in trouble.
He tried his engine again,
Even though he knew it wasn't going to work under water.
To his surprise,
His engine started right up.
It even sounded louder under water,
Like a super big truck with a powerful engine.
Peter drove across the bottom of the ocean,
Even though he couldn't see very well.
He leaned on the steering wheel,
Turned it around so he was heading back to the beach.
Soon the water around him got light and then he broke the surface of the water.
As he rose,
The water poured off his cab and hood.
Now he could see the sky again and the town beach was in front of him,
White and beckoning.
Gratefully,
He pulled up out of the water and onto the sand.
He stopped to think how lucky he was to be back on shore.
Then he had an idea.
He looked over past the town beach and saw the ferry landing,
Where the ferries from across the bay docked to let off passengers and cars.
He started his engine and drove carefully over the sand.
Once he got around the ferry ticket terminal,
He saw the big white arrows painted on the road and followed them.
Soon he was at the ferry dock.
This was a better idea.
He looked out over the bay and again he loved the view of the ocean,
The water stretching out far into the pale blue distance.
Some seagulls wheeled above him,
Screeching as if calling out to him to come out to play.
Then he heard a deep-throated horn,
The signal that the ferry was ready to load passengers and vehicles.
He got excited.
A crew member unlatched the long chain across the bow of the ferry and Peter drove onto the wide deck.
He stopped and turned off his engine.
Another blast of the horn startled Peter and the deck underneath him trembled as the ferry's engine revved up.
Slowly the shore dropped away and the ferry pulled out into the bay.
Peter felt solid and secure riding on the ferry.
He wasn't getting wet and all he had to do was enjoy the view.
This was much better.
The ferry turned in a graceful arc,
Leaving land behind and headed out into open water.
Peter breathed a sigh of relief and looked out over the bay.
Thin,
Low clouds hung on the horizon,
But the sun was everywhere,
Shining and reflecting off the little waves.
The seagulls were following the ferry.
Peter loved the feeling of being on the water and not having to worry about staying afloat.
The big ferry held him and all the other cars securely,
Doing the job it was built to do.
He looked out over the water and drank in the peaceful blue water.
A slight wind ruffled the waves and touched Peter's skin.
He felt part of the great ocean,
The sea and the sky,
Just what he'd always wanted.
And he knew he could come out on this ferry any time he wanted.
