Full Throttle Heart — 3 — A Small Hero

Truck-kun drove through the dark forest, its tires deftly weaving around trees and over their thick roots. Its headlights pushed aside the oppressive darkness and the rumble of its engine pushed aside the stifling quiet.

It had left the body of the dire bear behind, and tried to do the same with the memory of the short but brutal fight. In that respect, Truck-kun failed.

It wasn’t the first time Truck-kun had slain an animal. Before this, there were bunnies, birds, and even a deer. All of them smashed on its steel bumper or crushed beneath its tires—each reduced to roadkill.

Yet there was something different about slaying the dire bear.

It didn’t know whether it was because of the surprising transformation Truck-kun had suddenly taken at the start of the battle—raising up to twice its height and transforming into some miraculous design somewhere between truck and human. Was it because Truck-kun was in this miraculous place, or was because all those times before, Joe had been at the wheel, guiding Truck-kun to its destination? Or was it because the dire bear had been the first to attack…

“I still can’t freaking believe it,” Al, the bluebird, said from its perch atop Truck-kun’s cab. He waved his wings and gestured wildly as he talked in his gruff voice. “That was the most amazing—the most stupendous—the most outrageous—never in my life seen anything like it…”

The bluebird had insisted on accompanying Truck-kun since its battle with the dire bear.

Despite all of Al’s praise and reassurance that the dire bear was both demonstratively evil and dire, it didn’t assuage the feeling deep within Truck-kun’s engine—within its heart.

[Sad Montage accompanies Narration]

Nothing made of flesh and bone could stand up to unflinching, unfeeling steel. Had all those animals slain before just been preparing Truck-kun for something? Had they been preparing Truck-kun for this strange new place?

Or maybe slaying the dire bear was different merely because Truck-kun had saved the life of Al, the bluebird.

Truck-kun quickly decided that wasn’t the case, and that it wished the bluebird wasn’t riding on top of its cab.

[Al’s singing overpowers the Sad Montage]

“He’s the greatest hero in all the land

“The chosen one,

“The bee’s knees,

“The dire bear’s death rattle…

“Truck-dude is the greatest!”

Truck-kun made a defeated sound with its horn. It wanted nothing more than to ask Al to stop singing, but Truck-kun felt guilty—after all, Al had done nothing but praise the truck since.

Truck-kun might not have minded, if Al’s singing voice wasn’t worse than his regular voice—sounding like a trash disposal gargling marbles.

Wherever this strange journey would lead, it was going to be a long journey with Al. Especially if the bluebird kept singing.

Truck-kun spoke up. “Al, what are you doing in the forest all alone?”

The bluebird stopped suddenly (for which the truck was grateful). Al cleared his throat. “Oh, man, this is embarrassing. I don’t know if I should tell you.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“Because you’re the greatest hero in all the land.” Al sang that line for emphasis, making Truck-kun wince. “I’m just a bird… a, uh, single bird.”

There was a pang of sadness in the bluebird’s gruff voice, like a note of a single bell that had fallen into the disposal along with the marbles.

“Are you lonely?” Truck-kun asked.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

Truck-kun slowed and cast its high beams around the gloomy forest. There weren’t any other animals around. In fact, there wasn’t any other bird song at all out here. This was strange; Truck-kun had driven through plenty of country roads, through forests and by city parks in its time with Joe, and they were full of birds…

“Al, there aren’t any other birds out here.”

“I know, Truck-dude.”

Truck-kun slowed to a complete stop. “Then why are you out here all alone?”

Al’s voice quivered. “I… I… I have a horrible singing voice, okay? I’m a shame to bluebirds everywhere.”

“I’m sorry, Al. Surely… surely your voice isn’t that bad.”

“Oh, it’s bad.” The bluebird croaked. “The Princess of Thatlandia ordered archers to shoot at me, and the Bishop of Otherlanden called me a blue devil!”

Poor Al wept, his tears wiping away the bird poop beneath his perch.

That was bad, Truck-kun admitted silently. It thought back to its time with Joe, and though he’d accidentally cut off cars on the freeway and double-parked once before, Joe had never offended royalty or men of the cloth.

“What do the other birds say?” Truck-kun asked.

“They… they laugh at me! Why do you think I’m single and wandering the dark forest?” Al sobbed horridly for a few moments before finding the fortitude to continue. “I’m out here trying to find my singing voice… or magic, you know? They say there’s fey that grant wishes and demons that kind of do the same… Alright, let’s be real. I’m desperate and lazy, so I’m hoping to find something magical. I thought if I wandered around long enough, I would stumble on something.”

Truck-kun’s steel heart softened a little at hearing Al’s despair. It had to admit that the bluebird’s voice was extraordinarily bad—the kind of grating that no amount of practice could possibly fix. Magic was Al’s only hope.

As much as Truck-kun wanted to make it back to Joe, the pitiful bluebird sitting atop its cab needed Truck-kun’s help.

“I’ll help you,” the truck said, startling Al out of its misery.

“Oh, Truck-dude, you will?”

“Yes, Al. I’ll help you. And my name is Truck-kun.”

[Outtro — Slow, Instrumental version of Theme Song — “Hātofurusurottoru” by Gunpowder Audition]

[Outtro Still Shot of Joe driving Truck-kun on the highway. Al is flying beside them and singing. Both Joe’s hands are off the wheel because he’s covering his ears.]

~

[Local Commercial Break]

[Camera view of the Belport Bulletin anchor desk. Bethany Wonder sits alone at the desk, her dyed hair and dress both a deep blue. Bethany taps her papers on the desk and strikes a smile for the audience.]

“Is it time to talk peace? Conflict between Shian and Catalina escalates with threats of nukes and supers. When will the vampire menace in Wardenton be caught? Those questions and more this morning during the seven o’clock block. But for now we’re joined by our eye on the street, Johnny Armour.

“What do you have for us, Johnny?”

[Camera switches to a news reporter for Belport Bulletin on downtown Champion street. It’s nighttime and the bright, colorful lights of downtown are on. The reporter is wearing a thick red scarf that he keeps pulling down to talk.]

“As you can see behind me, restoration is almost finished on Champion street after the battle between supers left the city’s thoroughfare devastated. Repair crews have been working around the clock, and the Summit of Heroes is continuing their investigation into the attack that killed twenty-nine and left over eighty wounded.

“With the Summit of Heroes on the case, you can rest assured that the perpetrators will be brought to justice.”

[Camera switches back to the anchor desk.]

“Thank you, Johnny. Be sure to tune in at ten for more news. Remember, the Bulletin is on your side.”

~ ~ ~