Chapter 3

William couldn't help but sneak a peek at Sherman during lunch. His estranged twin brother had been home for two weeks now, and he felt no more like a brother now then he had when he first arrived. He was eating by himself, as he normally did, and William had not offered to let him sit with him and his friends. He was already forced to share his home, his room, and his parents. Why should he be forced to share his social life?

"Maybe you should invite him to sit with us," Martin said, also looking.

"He probably thinks he's too good for us," James scoffed. "We're not time travelers with a talking dog for a dad."

"That's not his dad," William said, sounding annoyed. "Even though he can't seem to figure that out."

Martin sipped his milk. "Give him a break, Will. I mean, how would you feel if you were moved away from your home and put somewhere else?"

William knew Martin was right, but the whole situation made him so angry he felt he had to find somebody to blame, and Sherman seemed to be the easiest one to do so. Deep down, though, he wondered how scary this must all be for his brother, but he pushed those thoughts down even deeper.

"All he does at home is sit around like some scared little baby and hardly talks," he told his friends. "But he calls Mr. Peabody all the time. I've actually heard him beg to come and get him."

James bit into a fry. "It'll probably just take time. When I went to summer camp, I was homesick the whole first week, but the second week, I didn't even want to go home!"

"But it's already been two weeks," William pointed out. "And Sherman just sits in my room and acts miserable."

Sherman, they noticed, stood up and threw his trash away, leaving the cafeteria and heading for the library, as he did every day. William knew this because once he and his two friends had followed him to see where he went off to after he ate.

It had made William kind of sad, to peer through the windows of the library door, and see Sherman sitting at one of the little tables all by himself reading a book. Most of them were history books, but a few were science or fiction.

After school, William and Sherman rode the same bus home, but sat in different seats. William sat in the front, and Sherman in the back. The bus driver had been confused at first, but she didn't question their strange seating arrangements.

"Hey." William attempted as they walked the two-house distance from the bus stop. "How was your day?"

"Oh, um, okay," Sherman said, shrugging his back higher onto his back.

When they reached the house, William swallowed his anger and asked, "Do you want to kick the soccer ball around?"

"Um…" Sherman hesitated, and William felt his anger coming back, but to his surprise, his twin brother smiled and said, "Okay!"

It turned out to be fun, playing with Sherman. Secretly, William had always wondered what life would have been like having his twin around-somebody to play ball with and read comic books under the covers with a flashlight. Somebody to know what he was thinking, but did not want to say. He wondered what Sherman was thinking almost every day, but couldn't even take a guess.

"You're good," Sherman said, pushing his glasses into place.

"You're not so bad," William replied, grinning.

This is what it's supposed to be like, he thought as they passed the ball around the backyard with their feet. This is why Mom and Dad missed him so much.

When Mr. Spring returned home from work, he joined them in their little game, and William found himself happy for the first time in days.

"Dad, you play Goalie!" He ordered.

Sherman found himself slowing down as he watched Mr. Spring and William chase the soccer ball around the yard. For hours now, he'd been enjoying himself, and not once that thought of his longing to be back home. The thought made him feel terrible, and he suddenly wished Mr. Peabody were there to comfort him.

Mr. Peabody.

Sherman felt his heart sink, and William kicked the ball into his shin, making him jump.

"Sorry, Sherman," William said.

"You okay, Son?" Mr. Spring asked.

I'm not your son, Sherman thought.

"I'm fine," he said. "I'm done playing."

William gave him a funny look.

"Are you hurt?" He asked.

"No." Sherman shook his head. "I'm just done playing."

William looked like he might say something, something mean possibly, but Mr. Spring merely shrugged and said, "It is getting sort of late."

The three of them went back inside where Mrs. Spring and Alice were painting their toenails at the coffee table.

"Phew!" Mrs. Spring said. "You three smell like a pack of wet dogs!"

Alice laughed and repeated, "Wet dogs."

Sherman felt a twinge of anger at the remark, but reminded himself that Mrs. Spring's comment was innocent. It was harmless. In fact, Mr. Peabody had told Sherman plenty of times that he smelled like a wet dog.

"What's for dinner, Hon?" Mr. Spring asked his wife, leaning down to kiss Alice on the cheek.

"I was thinking we should go out," Mrs. Spring said. "We haven't really had a proper chance to celebrate Sherman's homecoming yet."

Sherman looked between the two adults.

"I thought this was temporary," he said. That's what Mr. Peabody had told him. Sherman would never forget those words.

It's only temporary.

For a moment, Mr. and Mrs. Spring said nothing, and Sherman felt his heart start to race. Why were they being so quiet?

"We meant…just knowing you're alright," Mr. Spring said softly, and a little sadly.

The children were instructed to shower and dress, and as Sherman showered, he wondered if Mr. Peabody had been telling the truth. Was it really temporary? How long would he have to stay with these people?

Dinner out was at a chain restaurant. Colorful décor on the walls like mounted fish and street signs. The servers wore baseball caps and buttons on their shirts with funny sayings. It was definitely not the kind of restaurant Sherman would have gone to with Mr. Peabody unless it was his birthday and he begged to go.

"Ooh, chili cheese burger," Mr. Spring said, looking over his menu. "Yum!"

"Mommy, do I have to order off the kids' menu?" Alice asked.

"Not if you don't want to," Mrs. Spring replied. "Sherman, you may order anything you like."

"Dessert included." Her husband winked. "Hot fudge sundae. Delicious!"

The waitress came by and introduced herself as Stacy. She fawned over Alice's pink dress and hair bow, and then turned to Sherman and William, who had been squished together on one bench.

"Oh, twins!" She cooed. "How adorable!"

"Our pride and joy," Mr. Spring said.

I'm not your pride and joy, Sherman thought, and suddenly wasn't hungry.

Suddenly, he hated this family. How dare they take him away from his other father! The one who'd not only taken him in when he could have just dumped him off at a police station or even ignored him in that cardboard box, but had fought tooth and nail to keep him.

Didn't the Springs think about that? Didn't they wonder how they were breaking up one family just to reconcile one they'd never really had?

"Sherman?" Mrs. Spring snapped him out of his thoughts. "Do you know what you want to drink?"

"Can we get soda?" Alice asked.

"Just this once," Mrs. Spring said, and smiled at Sherman. "It's a special occasion."

"Sherman?" Mr. Spring turned to him. "What do you say? Want a rootbeer?"

"No." Sherman said. "Soda is bad for your teeth. And your kidneys."

"Aw, come on!" Mr. Spring laughed. "It won't kill you to drink it just this once."

"Maybe a lemonade instead," his wife suggested.

"That has corn syrup," Sherman pointed out.

"Well, what do you want to drink?" William asked him, and Sherman knew that William knew something was up.

"I don't want any of this," Sherman said. "I'm not hungry."

The Spring parents seemed very concerned.

"Nothing looks good?" Mrs. Spring asked. "Chicken? Pizza? Anything?"

"Loaded potato skins," Mr. Spring added. "Boy, I'll bet those are good."

"It's junk food!" Sherman spat. "I'm not allowed to have junk food!"

His outburst started the Springs, and he immediately felt ashamed. Had Mr. Peabody been there he would have promptly muttered an 'excuse me' and taken Sherman aside for a brief lesson in manners. He would have made Sherman apologize right in front of everybody and make him mean it.

Sherman did not say he was sorry. He slid out of the booth and hurried away before William could say something nasty, which he knew was coming. He'd made a mess of everything, and now he was acting like a brat.

Finding solace in the men's room, he stared at himself in the mirror and wondered if he looked as mean as he felt.

"There you are."

In his reflection, he saw William behind him.

"Leave me alone," Sherman said.

"Why can't you get it through your head that Mom and Dad are your parents?" William asked. He stood next to Sherman.

"Look at us!" He ordered. "We're twins! We're brothers! You're not a dog, Sherman!"

Sherman pushed past him and out of the men's room, dodging servers carrying food, and out of the restaurant. He didn't stop, but kept running. It seemed like forever, and his legs ached and he was out of breath, but he could not stop. He wanted to be as far from the Springs as possible.

When he finally did stop, only because he tripped over a metal coil sticking out of the sidewalk and landed on his face, he found his glasses broken in two in his hand. After that, thunder sounded and it started to rain.

"Mr. Peabody…" Sherman whimpered, standing up and limping on a scraped knee towards an alley where a half canopy top covered one side.

He sat in between two trash cans and started to cry.

Mr. Peabody sat on his sofa, glass of expensive wine in front of him, untouched. In his lap he held one of the many photo albums that contained snapshots of Sherman's life. The penthouse was filled with photographs of Sherman-he was practically immortalized on the wall close to the dog's bedroom, but the photo albums held some of the more intimate moments that guests needn't not see.

One of Peabody's favorites was Sherman's third birthday, the year of the dinosaurs. Sherman had been obsessed with dinosaurs as a toddler, and for his third birthday party, the two traveled to the time when the giant reptiles walked the Earth. In the picture, Mr. Peabody was holding Sherman, who was feeding an Apatosaurus some leaves.

For two long weeks, he had been without Sherman, and the penthouse was unbearably lonely. No lunches to pack. No goodnight hugs. No games of tickling on the couch. No fencing lessons. No bike rides or picnics in Central Park.

He was almost startled by the sound of his phone, and when he answered it, it was a frantic Mrs. Spring.

Sherman was missing.

To Be Continued...

Author's Note: Thank you so much for the feedback! I truly appreciate it, and it's feedback that motivates me to keep going. I love some of the ideas I've been given in the reviews :)