In Our Words Canadians Reading Together

Truro to St. Peters

CURTIS PELLY

Early in the morning a young man named Bill Short was trying to hitchhike to Cape Breton to visit his uncle who offered him a summer job. Bill was a young man about 22 years old, brown curly hair and brown eyes. The clothes that he was wearing were ragged, and the running shoes he had on had no laces in them. Also, on his back he was carrying a knapsack with a broken zipper that didn’t keep his few possessions dry if it started to rain.

Bill was up early in the morning because he was so excited about getting to Cape Breton, and starting a summer job with his uncle. Bill’s uncle ran a tackle shop for fishing supplies. Bill was standing beside a highway that ran along between fields of planted crops. There was a slight breeze blowing, and the sun was beginning to shine brightly. There were several small brown sparrows flying back and forth across the highway, landing on ears of corn planted in straight lines across the farmer’s fields. In the distance Bill could see a big tractor trailer coming up the highway towards him.

It was a quiet morning—not much traffic passed him by. Standing with his thumb pointing towards Cape Breton, the big truck approached him. To Bill’s surprise, a signal light came on, and he noticed the big truck pulling over to the side of the road. Bill was amazed to see the tractor-trailer pulling over. He began running along the ditch and shoulder of the road, along the length of the truck’s trailer, toward the cab of the big truck. When he opened the door of the truck, and climbed up on the running boards, he was greeted by a baldheaded man who appeared to be a little overweight. The truck driver introduced himself as Hank Willis, and Bill replied that his name was Bill Short from Truro. “How are you going?” Bill asked.