Simon crawled out of bed with a grumpy moan. It was late. The sun was already up.
"Great," he growled inside. "I'm gonna be late again! And the boys are gonna tease me about it! They've probably been up for hours. They're probably already on their way to..." His thoughts halted as his sleepy eyes came into focus. Benjamin almost always woke up before him, but today he was still tucked into bed, lying very still and quiet. For a moment, Simon stared in shock and amazement. Then, a smirk slid over his face.
"Ha!" he thought smugly. "Finally I'm up before the kid!" With a mischievous glint in his eyes, the boy snuck closer to his brother's bed. He got ready to pounce and wake the boy up, but suddenly he stopped himself. "No," he decided. "I'll just wait and see how long it takes him to get up on his own. Then he'll really be late and I can tease him even more!" With sneaking footsteps, he got dressed and walked out of the room.
Downstairs, breakfast was getting cold. Simon ran to the table and scarfed down the food that was waiting for him. He really didn't have much time. As he shoveled the last bite of eggs into his mouth, Peter hurried through the front door and grabbed his schoolbooks.
"Late again, Simon?" he laughed. "You and Benjamin had better get started unless you want to clean the chalkboard again." Simon glared, but there was a small shine of victory in his eyes.
"I'm not as late as Benjamin is!" he snickered. "The kid isn't even up yet!" Peter frowned curiously.
"He isn't?" the boy asked.
"No, he's being lazy!" Simon answered, hurrying to the foyer and pulling on his shoes. Then, he ran to the foot of the stairs. "Benjamin! Stop dawdling! We're gonna be late for school again! It'll be all your fault!" No answer came, but Martha looked out from the kitchen with one eyebrow raised.
"Simon, don't yell like that," she commanded. "Would you want to be woken up that way? Now, go upstairs and help Benjamin get ready. You're as late as he is, Young Man!" Simon ran up the stairs quickly. Peter hesitated. He was going to be late too if he didn't leave soon, but he couldn't understand why Benjamin was still in bed. Sometimes the boy had been a dawdler, but he always woke up early. Too curious to leave, Peter dropped his books and followed his brother.
In half a moment, Simon had barged into the boys' bedroom, making as much noise as he could.
"Ha ha, Benjamin! I got up before you!" he sneered.
Benjamin only sniffled and burrowed deeper into his blankets. "Come on!" Simon urged in frustration. "If you don't hurry I'm gonna leave without you! I don't wanna be late again!" Benjamin let out a whimper.
"I don't wanna go," he sniffled. From the doorway, Peter watched and listened. This wasn't like Benjamin at all. He had always liked going to school.
"Benjamin, stop wasting time," Peter ordered. "If you hurry, we can all ride the horse and we'll be there in no time! Come on, get out of bed!" Simon tried to throw the covers off of the boy, but Benjamin clung to them tightly. Finally Simon used the last tool he had; the one that never failed.
"Ma, Benjamin won't get out of bed!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. Martha had already been listening to the boys' voices in growing concern. In just a few minutes, she had walked into the room and her loving presence softened Simon's irritation.
"Benjamin," she said softly. "Why are you so sleepy, little man? Are you alright?" she unburied her hiding son's face and he looked up at her with big, pouty eyes.
"I don't wanna go to school, Ma," he whimpered. "I...don't feel well."
Peter couldn't wait any longer. He raced outside in a flash and headed for school. Confusion was still swirling around in his mind. Could his brother really be sick? He was usually such a healthy boy.
Peter got to school just in time. Then, feeling merciful toward his brothers, he told the teacher what had happened and why the boys would be late. Mrs. Weed was strict when it came to being on time, but she was an understanding woman. All she did was give a pleasant nod and then she began her lesson.
Back at home, Martha coaxed Benjamin to tell her what was wrong, but he couldn't tell her much. After a while, she could tell that the boy wasn't sick or hurt. Finally, with love and care she told him that he looked well enough to go to school and helped him get ready for his day.
An hour after the other children had begun learning their lessons, Simon and Benjamin finally crept into the schoolhouse, looking like criminals who had come to turn themselves in. Miss Weed glanced up from her book.
"Are you boys alright?" she asked.
"It wasn't my fault!" Simon excused himself quickly. "Benjamin dawdled all morning! And then he kept saying there were rocks in his shoes! I didn't want to be late, Ma'am!" Miss Weed lifted a silencing hand.
"That's alright," she said calmly. "This time we'll overlook it. Take your seats and get started on your arithmetic, Boys." Simon obeyed with a sigh of relief. Benjamin did the same, but his face looked gloomy and his eyes stared blankly at the floor. All during school, he scribbled on his blackboard, hardly even thinking about his lessons.
He didn't look up at the teacher as she spoke. Now and then, Peter glanced over at him, wondering what was wrong. Maybe the boy was just being a brat, but it didn't seem possible for Benjamin to misbehave on purpose.
As soon as lunch time came, Peter got up from his desk and wove through the crowd, determined to have a talk with his brother. The other children swarmed around him, crowding toward the doorway. Finally, he squeezed outside and looked around.
"Benjamin!" he called, searching the crowd for the sad little boy. He didn't hear an answer and no matter how long he looked, he couldn't see his brother. The boy had dashed outside before everyone else and now he was nowhere in sight. Peter looked around the schoolhouse and through the big field, but he couldn't find his brother. Finally, he shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. "Oh well. He'll be back," he thought. And he was right. As soon as lunch was over and school was beginning again, the boy suddenly appeared and hustled into the the building.
School went well enough for Peter, but by the time Miss Weed shut her book and said they were finished, he couldn't wait to get outside. He would make a long loop back home and do some work on his tool shed. Quickly, he left his slate and some papers with the teacher and went outside. Walking with long strides, he headed for the black stallion who he had left tied up to a fence post.
Suddenly, he heard someone's footsteps running close behind him.
"Wait!" a voice panted. "Wait, Peter!" the voice almost sounded desperate. Peter turned and looked back.
"What's wrong, Benjamin?" he asked. The little boy grabbed his brother's sleeve as if Peter was going to leave him behind.
"I wanna ride with you! Can I, Peter? Please?" The boy's huge, blue eyes stared up into Peter's. They were sad and almost frightened looking.
"You wanna ride with me? I thought you were scared of Storm?" Peter exclaimed in surprise. Benjamin hesitated, looking over at the beautiful, half wild horse. Then, he nodded his head and walked with Peter to the stallion's side.
"Alright, but you'll have to be quiet," Peter said in an instructional tone of voice. "Storm gets scared when he hears loud noises." He ran his hand over his horse's silky hide, giving Storm every possible warning that he was about to be ridden. Then, he lifted Benjamin onto the horse's back. For once, Storm stood still and quiet. It was almost as if he understood that a timid child was riding him and that he needed to stay calm. Peter climbed up behind his brother and then looked around for Simon.
"What about you, Simon?" he called. "Want a ride home?" The boy shook his head and walked on, so Peter and Benjamin set out on their own to check traps and explore the woods.
Peter tried to be as cheerful as he could. He did everything he could think of to make his brother happy. But still, Benjamin was quiet and somber. There was no understanding it, and the next day, the little boy's attitude hadn't changed. After a few days, it began to seem normal that Benjamin's head hung low and that his eyes dropped sadly to the ground. He wasn't the same, happy boy he used to be. This wasn't like him at all.