His Greatest Discovery
Author's Note: Okay, I've never written anything like this. I'm not good with OCs. If you like it, and would like it to be continued, you have to let me know, other wise, I will realize I was never meant to write OCs. Mr. Peabody and Sherman do not belong to me, but I love them just the same. Enjoy!
It was an ordinary day in the Spring household. Mrs. Nancy Spring bustled around the modest three bedroom home in the New York suburbs, preparing her children for school, and husband for work. Mr. Spring, briefcase in hand, ran around gathering papers and collecting two bagels and a banana from the kitchen table. Three-year old Alice Spring played with her oatmeal, and took a quick peek at her mother before flinging a spoonful onto her brother, William.
"Alice!" William wiped it away. "Mom! Alice is making a mess!"
"Cope, Dear," his mother said, straightening her husband's tie. "Will you be home in time for Will's soccer game?"
"I already took the afternoon off," he replied, smiling. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."
He gave his wife a quick peck on the lips, and then placed one on the tops of both children as he hurried out the door.
"Eat, William," his mother said. "You're going to miss your bus."
"Yeah, yeah," William said, stirring his oatmeal.
The house phone rang, and Mrs. Spring sighed as she dried her hands on a dish towel. She had just started the dishwater.
"Hello?" She placed the phone to her ear as she helped Alice out of her booster seat. "Oh, hi, Lisa!"
Lisa, William knew, was the nosey neighbor next door with a baby and a boy Alice's age. Both were trouble when they came over because his mother always made him 'play' with the babyish neighbor children. He hoped she wasn't calling to set up a play date of some kind.
"The news?" His mother frowned, tugging Alice's nightgown over her head. "No, I haven't seen anything. New York City? No, what happened there?"
The Springs lived just outside of New York City, barely two hours away. William perked up, now interested in the conversation.
Still talking, his mother walked away and turned the television on.
"Why am I going to be shocked-OH MY GOD!"
William sprung up from his chair. The Springs were a religious family, and rarely did he hear his parents curse. Sometimes his father did, when he stubbed his toe or spilled coffee on his tie, but never his mother. Just as he started out of the kitchen, he heard his mother sobbing into the phone. This time, she was talking to his father.
"Joe! Oh my God, Joe! It's Sherman! They found Sherman!"
William paused. Somebody found Sherman?
"Yes, come home! Hurry!"
"Mom?" William walked into the living room. "Who found Sherman?"
His mother didn't answer him. Instead, she stared at the television screen intently, biting her thumbnail. Alice toddled into the room, only in her pink unicorn-printed panties, and whined that she wanted to get dressed.
"Hey!" She stopped in mid-whine to point to the TV. "It's Will!"
William looked too. On the television screen, was a boy who looked just like him, only with glasses. His hair was the same rusty red, spiked and gelled up (William wanted to use hair gel, but his mother told him it would be a waste on such thick hair).
"That's Sherman?" He asked quietly, though he knew already.
"They found him…" his mother whispered.
William had heard the story many times before. His mother had been at a gas station, on her way to visit Grandy and Gramps in Connecticut. The twins were only infants at the time, barely six months old. Sherman and William, the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed twins that nobody could tell apart except for their own parents. Even both sets of grandparents continued to mix them up, unless they were wearing opposite colors, and even then they had a hard time.
"Hi, Grandy," Nancy said into the phone, stepping out of the car to pump gas. In her arms, she held William, who had a wet diaper. "We're on our way. We're just running late because of traffic."
"I'll go change Thing Number Two," Joe said affectionately, taking the baby from his wife. He waved to Sherman through the window.
"The boys spilled juice all over the matching sailor suits," Nancy said into the phone. "We'll just change them when we get there. As a joke, I pinned their names to their blankets!"
She laughed and said, "Like I said, it's just a joke. You'll get the hang of telling which is which in no time."
As she spoke, a nervous looking man wandered around the gas station, scratching his head through his baseball cap.
"Joe just took William inside to change his diaper," Nancy said. "I'm filling up the car and then we'll be on our way."
The man noticed Nancy busying herself with the gas pump in one hand, and the phone in the other. Casually moving past the car, he noticed the driver side door not closed all the way, and the keys in the ignition. Inching closer, he tested the door handle.
Meanwhile, in the backseat, strapped snuggly in his carseat, Sherman amused himself by flapping his blanket around. His glasses, which were oversized without the straps that came with them (but Sherman would keep pulling at and snapping them in two) kept sliding down to his nose.
"Okay, Grand," Nancy said. "See you in a bit."
She placed the nozzle back in its groove, and said, "Okay, Sherman! Let's hit the road, Puddle Duck!"
She turned just in time to see the car zoom away, her baby in the backseat.
"Sherman!" She cried, running after it. "Somebody help! My baby's in that car!"
Just as people started to look, Joe exited the gas station. "Nancy? Nancy?!"
"Sherman!" She ran until she could no longer see the car, which had turned the corner.
They found the car. Wrecked. The driver was found dead a few blocks over. It was apparent that he'd thrown the baby from the car, as the seat was still intact, but with no baby inside. Police and volunteers looked, but found no sign of a child.
What they didn't know is that between the suburbs and the city, where the baby had not been tossed, but placed on the side of the highway going into the city, a homeless man had collected the baby in a box and kept him in the alley he slept in with him overnight. As kind a gesture as it was, the poor old man had long been out of his mind, and by morning, had forgotten all about what was inside of the box beside him and wandered away.
Baby Sherman howled all day, but the only ones who crossed anywhere around the alley were other homeless dwellers-most not in a healthy state of mind, and most ignored the cries of the baby. It was only a nightfall, when a certain genius dog had happened to be in the area, getting lost on his way to a restaurant he'd never been to before. Once he was past the alley, he would know his way, but it was tired, faint cries that made him stop…
"I can't believe we're on the news, Mr. Peabody!" Sherman said as his father served him half a grape fruit to go with his slice of lean ham and cup of yogurt and granola.
"I've been on the news plenty of times, Sherman," Mr. Peabody said. "And so have you. You just don't remember."
"You mean from when you adopted me?" Sherman asked, struggling with his grapefruit. Some of the juice splattered onto his glasses.
"Your face wasn't shown," the dog said. "I wouldn't allow it. It was too…" he didn't want to say scary, but there was no better word for not wanting his precious baby's face for all of the world to see. "It was just too unusual a situation."
"You said you found me in a box," Sherman said, watching as his father poured him a glass of milk.
"Just like a present," Mr. Peabody agreed. "You were, and have always been, my favorite discovery."
Sherman grinned, pleased with the sentiment both in the words and his father's tone. He hungrily tore into his breakfast (having missed dinner last night because of the space time continuum fiasco), and listened to the news that played on the Tablet like device that sat propped up at the kitchen bar where Sherman and Mr. Peabody ate breakfast every morning.
"Quickly, Sherman," Mr. Peabody said. "Or you'll be late."
"Okay, Mr. Peabody," Sherman replied, sliding off of the stool. "Just let me go the bathroom first."
"Right, just hurry please," his father said, collecting the dishes. He paused and smiled to himself. "No stalling, Sherman."
Sherman laughed and said, "No stalling…I don't get it."
Mr. Peabody felt good as he polished the scrapes and dents in the WABAC. On the way to taking Sherman to school, he had finally been able to him the three simple words he'd always felt, but had never had an easy time saying. It had not been hard at all, and he couldn't wait to say it again.
The musical doorbell sounded, and Mr. Peabody left the WABAC to find out who was downstairs wanting to get up. He hoped it was not the press. As social as he was, the events of the past few days had him longing for solitude.
"Yes?" He said into the intercom.
"Hello," a male voice said, sounding nervous. "Mr. Peabody, my name's Joseph Spring…I'm here with my wife, and our children."
"Um…" Mr. Peabody wondered if he knew a Joseph Spring. It took him only a fraction of a second to mentally confirm that he did not. "Yes, Mr. Spring? How might I be of assistance to you?"
There was a slight pause, some hushed words, and then Mr. Spring said, "We need to talk to you about Sherman."
The hair bristled all over Mr. Peabody's body.
"Sherman?" He repeated.
"It'll just be easier if we can show you," Mr. Spring said. "Please. You can even meet us down here, if you don't want us in your home."
The man did not sound threatening, and there was even a hint of tired sadness in his voice. Mr. Peabody wondered whether he should let a family of strangers up, and finally buzzed for them. When they arrived in the elevator, two adults- both looking tired and worried, a bouncing toddler, and…Sherman stepped out. Sherman?!
Mr. Peabody had to do a double-take, and instantly knew this was not Sherman. He looked just like Sherman, but his hair was smooth and flat, he did not have glasses, and his scent was different. Completely different.
"I know," Mr. Spring said, placing his hands on the boy's shoulders. "We didn't want to startle you."
"Who-" Mr. Peabody felt himself stuttering. "Who is this?"
"Our son," Mr. Spring said. "William."
"He's Sherman's brother," Mrs. Spring said, her voice hoarse with tears. "They're twins."
Mr. Peabody fixed tea and they all sat around the parlor sofa, not touching a single cup. All four of them had red hair, though Mrs. Spring's hair was closer to blonde, and she and her daughter had green eyes. Mr. Spring and William, however, was like looking at present Sherman sitting next to future Sherman.
Shakily, interrupting each other, the couple told the dog their story of losing their baby. About how they'd assumed he was dead. About how family and friends had urged them to go on with their lives and stop printing missing child ads.
"When we saw the footage from last night," Mrs. Spring said, biting her bottom lip. "It was like looking at William, and I knew it was Sherman before his name was even mentioned."
For one in his life, Mr. Peabody had no idea what to say. Over the years, he'd painted a picture of Sherman's parents in his mind, and they were not like this soft-spoken couple with tears in their eyes for their baby. In his mind, they were junkies or scared teenagers, tossing their infant out like yesterday's garbage. If it weren't for the twin brother seated on his father's lap, he may not believe any of it.
"I kept Sherman's picture out of the media during the adoption," he admitted.
"And we were to caught up in looking for him to even pay attention to the news coverage," Mrs. Spring said, sighing.
"This is certainly a mess," Mr. Peabody said.
"Where is Sherman?" Mr. Spring asked.
"At school," the dog replied. "I'll be leaving at two-thirty to pick him up."
The phone suddenly rang, and Mr. Peabody was grateful for the distraction.
"Excuse me," he said, hopping up, and running over to his cell phone. "Hello? Peabody here."
"Hello, Mr. Peabody?" A female voice said. "This is Ms. Bell at CrossRoads Elementary."
"Hello, Ms. Bell," the dog replied. "Is everything alright? Is Sherman alright?"
"He's fine," Ms. Bell said. "It's just, he was sent to the school nurse after falling asleep in class, and the nurse and his teachers agree that it might be best if he just leaves early for the day to catch up on his sleep."
Mr. Peabody couldn't help but feel bad that he and Sherman had not returned home from their adventure until the wee hours of the morning and he had shipped him off to school as usual.
"I'll be there," he said.
The Spring family was staring at him.
"Um, Sherman's coming home early," he explained. "He's exhausted, and is not performing well."
Mr. Spring stood up. "Mr. Peabody," he said. "You have to know why we're here."
"We want to see Sherman," Mrs. Spring said.
"I'm sorry I fell asleep in class, Mr. Peabody," Sherman said as they got off the scooter. "I was trying really hard to stay awake, but we were watching a film about under the ocean."
He yawned. "Everything was just so dark and blue and swimming…" he yawned again.
"Sherman." Mr. Peabody placed his paws on the boy's shoulders. "Before we go inside, I need to explain something to you-"
"Sherman!"
It was too late. The Springs, who had not gone home as asked, had been waiting downstairs. They rushed over, minus William who dragged his feet.
Sherman jumped a little and asked, "Who are they, Mr. Peabody?"
He became even more uneasy when the woman started to cry, taking his face in her hands.
"Oh, my God!" She gasped. "You're okay!"
"Please," Mr. Peabody said sternly. "Give him space. He doesn't know you."
"My baby!" The woman pulled him against her. "Sherman!"
"Mr. Peabody!" Sherman removed himself and moved behind his father. "Who are these people?"
Mr. Peabody held his son's hand. "They're your parents, Sherman."
To Be Continued…if it's any good. Let me know in your reviews!
