Mr. Peabody & Sherman Junior Novelization (Mr. Peabody & Sherman) (4 page)

In Sherman’s room, Sherman and Penny spent most of the evening ignoring each other. The one time he tried to talk to her, she hissed, “If you say one word to me, jerkface, I’ll
hurt
you.”

That was enough to convince Sherman to keep his distance. He could have easily ignored her all night if Mr. Peabody hadn’t popped in to check on them. He pulled Sherman aside and encouraged him to make friends with Penny.

“Share your interests. Tell her a witty anecdote,” he advised.

Mr. Peabody made it sound so easy. He had no idea what Sherman was dealing with.

After Mr. Peabody had returned to his guests,
Sherman glanced at Penny. She was sitting on the opposite side of the room playing a video game on her phone. A few minutes later, Sherman worked up the courage to speak to her.

“You know, Penny, Sigmund Freud says if you don’t like a person, it’s because they remind you of something you don’t like about yourself,” he said.

Penny rolled her eyes. “What do you know about Sigmund Freud?” she asked skeptically.

“More than you think,” Sherman replied.

Penny jumped to her feet. “Sure. Just like you know all that stuff about George Washington not cutting down the cherry tree,” she sneered. “What a crock.”

“But it’s true!” Sherman protested.

“How do you know?” Penny pressed.

“I just know!” Sherman shouted. He wasn’t telling the whole truth, but he didn’t have a choice. Mr. Peabody always warned him not to tell anyone about the WABAC.

Penny propped her hands on her hips and took a slow step toward Sherman. He backed away nervously.

“Did you read it in a book?” she asked menacingly.

Sherman shook his head. Penny asked question after question, marching Sherman across the room, until at last his back was against the wall.

Fed up, Penny poked a threatening finger into his chest. “So how do you know, Sherman?” she demanded.

Sherman couldn’t bear it any longer. He buckled under the pressure and blurted out that he’d spoken directly to George Washington himself.

Penny blinked in surprise. For a moment she almost believed him. Then reality set in. “Liar!” she mocked him.

Sherman groaned in frustration. He wasn’t lying, and there was only one way he could think of to prove it.

M
eanwhile, in the living room, Mr. Peabody was going out of his way to win over the Petersons. He told plenty of jokes and anecdotes, served a gourmet meal, and expertly performed a number of their favorite songs on musical instruments from the piano to the Australian didgeridoo.

Patty Peterson clapped in delight. She turned to her husband, who had managed to keep the sour expression on his face despite Mr. Peabody’s best efforts.

“You know what? This has been great,” Paul said sarcastically, “but a complete waste of time. Let’s get Penny and go ho— Ow-ow-ow!” Mr. Peterson grabbed his back and doubled over in pain.

“Are you all right?” Mr. Peabody asked, concerned.

“This happens whenever he’s tense,” Patty explained.

Mr. Peabody offered to help. “I’m a licensed chiropractor,” he said, approaching Paul. Mr. Peterson shook his head and warned Mr. Peabody not to touch him. He staggered across the living room, clutching his back and howling.

Mr. Peabody took matters into his own paws and gripped Paul by the shoulders. He twisted Mr. Peterson’s back this way and that until each vertebra in his spine clicked and popped into place with a loud cracking noise. Suddenly, Paul straightened and blinked in surprise. The pain in his back had completely vanished.

“Peabody! I feel great!” he exclaimed. Paul circled his arms, jogged in place, and danced a jig, giddy with excitement. “You’re a miracle worker!”

“I am,” Mr. Peabody agreed conspiratorially. From the wide smile on Paul’s face, he knew he’d made a breakthrough. It was only a matter of time before he had both Petersons eating out of his paws.

At the same moment that her father was changing his mind about Mr. Peabody, Penny’s eyes were popping open in disbelief. She was standing next to Sherman staring into a huge, space-age-style room lined with mirrored panels reflecting the stars, spiral galaxies, and
black holes throughout the universe. In the center of the room floated a shiny red sphere that seemed to beckon her with the promise of adventure.

“He calls it the WABAC,” Sherman said, pointing to the time machine with a small flourish.

“So where have you gone in it?” Penny asked.

“Not where, Penny,
when,
” he answered seriously. When it came to time travel, he was something of an expert.

Penny rolled her eyes. “Okay—
when,
smart guy?”

“Oh … 1865, 1776, 1620, 1492,” Sherman said casually.

Penny’s mouth hung open in astonishment. She blinked and quickly recovered. She wasn’t about to let Sherman see how impressed she was. “Can it go back to an hour ago?”

“Why?” asked Sherman.

“Because I could take it home, pretend to be sick, and not come to this lame dinner party,” Penny said snidely.

“Ha, ha. Mr. Peabody says you should never use the WABAC to travel to a time when you existed,” Sherman explained.

“How come?” Penny asked.

“There’d be two of you,” Sherman answered.

Penny considered that possibility for a moment and then said, “Oh. Yeah. I guess the world’s not ready for that.” She smirked and walked boldly toward the WABAC. “So where should we go first?”

“Mr. Peabody says I’m not allowed to drive it until I’m older,” Sherman replied.

“Do you always do everything Mr. Peabody says?” Penny asked.

“Yeah,” Sherman said good-naturedly.

“Do you know what that makes you, Sherman?”

“An obedient son?” he asked hopefully.

Penny shook her head. She clapped a not-so-sympathetic hand on Sherman’s shoulder and said, “Nope. A
dog.
”

A short while later, Mr. Peabody raised his glass to toast with his new friends, the Petersons. Paul and Patty smiled and clinked their glasses with his. They relaxed against the sofa and sipped their drinks happily. All thoughts of pressing charges against Sherman had been forgotten.

Mr. Peabody sighed in relief. He was just about to celebrate the success of his plan when he heard Sherman call to him from the hallway. He excused himself politely and
stepped away from the Petersons to speak to his son.

“I’ve really hit it off with Penny’s parents! I think we can file this night under Unqualified Success!” Mr. Peabody said, stepping into the hall.

“I’d hold off on filing it just yet,” Sherman mumbled.

“What do you mean?” He looked closely at Sherman and realized instantly that something was wrong. “Where’s Penny?” he asked with growing concern.

“Um, ancient Egypt,” Sherman said guiltily.

“You used the WABAC? How could you do such a thing?” Mr. Peabody was fuming!

“She called me a liar for saying George Washington never cut down a cherry tree!” Sherman tried to defend himself, but the more he tried to explain, the sillier the whole thing sounded.

“So you took her to see George Washington?” Mr. Peabody asked angrily.

“And a few other people … yeah,” Sherman confessed.

Just then, Penny’s parents walked into the hall. Paul grinned at Mr. Peabody, ready for more fun. But one look at the nervous smile on Mr. Peabody’s face told him there was something fishy going on. He also noticed that someone was missing.

“Where’s Penny?” Mr. Peterson asked, suddenly suspicious.

“Playing hide-and-seek,” Mr. Peabody lied. He might have gotten away with it if Sherman hadn’t cried out at the very same moment, “Pooping!”

The Petersons didn’t buy that for one minute. They called for Penny and became increasingly worried when there was no answer.

“Where’s our daughter?” Paul yelled frantically.

“It’s hard to say, Paul. She could be here,” Mr. Peabody said, pointing his paw in one direction. “Or here.” He pointed in the opposite direction. “Or here.” Again, he moved his paw rapidly, pointing from left to right, up and down around the room.

The Petersons followed Mr. Peabody’s paw with their eyes. Their gaze bounced from place to place as his paw darted back and forth in a hypnotic rhythm. Within moments, they fell into a trance and stood frozen in place.

Mr. Peabody knew the trance wouldn’t last forever. He and Sherman had to find Penny before her parents woke up. There wasn’t a moment to lose! Together they raced down the hall to the WABAC and blasted off to ancient Egypt.

T
he hot sun shimmered over the desert sands of ancient Egypt. Great stone pyramids glinted in the afternoon light, and an enormous statue of a sphinx with the head of a human and the body of a lion looked out across the dunes.

Nearby, in the palace of the pharaohs, Penny reclined on an elegant couch. Servants fed her grapes and fanned her with large palm fronds. She sighed in contentment. At last she’d found a time and place where people knew how to treat her in style. So when Sherman stumbled into the palace followed by Mr. Peabody, she wasn’t happy to see them at all.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, annoyed.

“We have come to take you home,” Mr. Peabody said.

“Who died and made you pharaoh?” asked Penny
sarcastically. She rose from her couch and clapped her hands, summoning her servants. They swirled around her, eager to cater to her every whim. They styled her hair, painted her nails, and covered her in expensive silks and jewels. When they finally stepped aside, Penny was transformed.

“I’m not Penny anymore,” she told them. “I’m Princess Hatsheput, precious flower of the Nile.”

“Precious, perhaps, but if you think we’re going to leave you here, you are most definitely
in denial,
” Mr. Peabody said, winking at Sherman because of his pun on Egypt’s famous Nile River.

“Ha, ha! In denial!” Sherman laughed. Then his brow wrinkled in confusion. “I don’t get it.”

Mr. Peabody took Penny by the arm. “Now come along,” he said. He was anxious to get back to the present before Penny’s parents woke up.

“Unhand her!” a peevish voice shouted.

Mr. Peabody and Sherman turned to see a boy Penny’s age being carried into the room. A royal fanfare announced his arrival. He was dressed in the finest garments Sherman had ever seen, and he sat on a golden throne, which rested on the shoulders of servants. A single lock of hair hung from his otherwise bald head.