《Murmuration》 Sparring and Guitaring William Fairburne William was shoved to the ground, and immediately, a sword was pointed at his throat. He was gasping, and his fingers dug into the dirt beneath his hands as he tried to crawl backwards away from the wooden point. A knee pinned him to the ground by his chest, and the sword point touched his skin. ¡°You win,¡± he panted, going slack and falling flat onto his back. The brunette above him removed his knee and extended his hand for William to grab. Once he did, he was hoisted up. ¡°Thanks, Sydney¡­¡± His brother patted his back once he was on his feet, and helped him brush the dirt off of his shirt. ¡°Hey, don¡¯t worry. You did better that time,¡± he reassured him. William sighed, nodding halfheartedly. ¡°Sure I was,¡± he grumbled. He looked down at the snapped stick in his hand, one side dangling loosely from the other, only kept together by a thin piece of green bark. He pulled the loose piece away so he¡¯d have more control over the makeshift weapon. Sydney had always been physically stronger, and he¡¯d started sparring with their father when he was only five years old. William knew that he¡¯d likely never be better than him, but he just wanted to beat his brother once. At least come close to it. ¡°Alright, let''slets go again.¡± He shifted his feet into an attacking stance, and narrowed his eyes at Sydney. He looked at him with intense focus, trying to gauge what attack he could make without his brother instantly catching on. Sydney glanced to the side for a moment, and William found his eyes following. His father was watching from their veranda, sitting in a wood-stained adirondack chair he always sat in to enjoy the outdoors. Beside him was his blonde haired infant brother, tugging idly on their father¡¯s black shawl that was spilling over the back of the chair. William¡¯s legs were swept out from underneath him, and he hit the ground with a hard thud. Sydney was on top of him again. He groaned in frustration. ¡°Are you fighting Dad and Matthew?,¡± he asked him, the wooden sword brushing against his throat again. ¡°I was distracted. I wanted to know what you were looking at.¡± He huffed. ¡°I could tell. If you¡¯re actually fighting someone, they can use that against you, you know.¡± ¡°Like you just did,¡± William said pointedly. Sydney smiled crookedly at him. ¡°I was being realistic.¡± William gently pushed his brother off of him and helped himself to his feet. ¡°You have a sword. I have this,¡± William complained, looking down at the stick. It snapped again during this fight, and now barely stuck out of his fist. ¡°It¡¯s like a little knife,¡± Sydney commented, trying to defend its useability. ¡°It¡¯s a stick.¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter what weapon you have,¡± Sydney argued,. ¡°iIf you¡¯re not going to pay attention long enough to use it.¡± ¡°Not this time, sure, but you have the sword every time, and I just get some random stick!¡± He waved it around wildly as if Sydney hadn¡¯t already seen the pathetic, broken stick. ¡°I¡¯m more trustworthy with a weapon. I¡¯m older,¡± Sydney flaunted. ¡°We¡¯re twins!,¡± William groaned. ¡°You can¡¯t keep using that excuse just because you were born first.¡± ¡°Fine.¡± Sydney tossed the sword to William, who fumbled to catch it and narrowlynarrow avoided dropping it. ¡°Pass me the stick.¡± Sydney put his hand out for the useless object, which William eagerly handed over. He fiddled with the real weapon excitedly, certain this time he could win. They started another round. They kept going for a while, until the sun began to dip below the treeline, and dark shadows were cast across the yard. William had a new rush of adrenaline, and had started to show signs of improvement, hanging onto Sydney¡¯s every word. He still ultimately ended up on his back with Sydney towering over him in the end. He glanced over to his side to see his father standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, watching them. ¡°You did really wellgood, Will,¡± he said with a smile. ¡°I¡¯m laying in the dirt,¡± he replied, deadpan. Garreth laughed. ¡°Alright, come on in. I made dinner.¡± The boys fought briefly over who was to take in the sword. Sydney let go of it at a subtle glare from their father, and William triumphantly carried it into the house. Matthew came hobbling over to them as soon as they entered. ¡°Who won?,¡± he asked excitedly. He couldn¡¯t help but shout the words. Garreth had been convinced for a while that he was partially deaf, but a visit to the doctor¡¯s office confirmed that he was just an overly loud kid. ¡°I did,¡± William joked, swinging the sword up to rest on his shoulder. Sydney had to duck out of the way to avoid getting hit. ¡°He¡¯s lying to you.¡± Sydney gently took the sword from his brother, earning him a dirty look, and tossed it into the cabinet where they kept their coats and boots. ¡°But I was close,¡± William added, trying to make himself appear better to their younger brother, despite the fact that he¡¯d already moved on from their conversation and had crawled onto their father¡¯s lap in the living room. ¡°Until you dove at me trying to take me down. Throwing your entire body off of the ground is generally not a good idea.¡± Sydney went to the counter and grabbed a plate that Garreth had left out. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t be saying that if it had worked.¡± William grabbed a plate as well and rushed to the table, sliding into the chair underneath his brother a moment before he was going to sit down in it. Sydney looked at him with a grimace as he sat in a different seat. ¡°Yes, I would, because there was absolutely no chance of that working.¡± Sydney stared into William¡¯s eyes challengingly as he gnawed down on a chicken finger. William sighed, accepting his move as a failure. ¡°I still did good, though, right? Aside from that?¡± ¡°You were better with the sword,¡± Sydney replied, his mouth full. ¡°Than with a stick? Yeah, no sh¡ª¡± ¡°William,¡± Garreth interrupted. His voice was level, but there was an edge of warning in the way that he spoke his son¡¯s name. ¡°Sorry Dad,¡± William mumbled before focusing on Sydney. ¡°Okay, but I got better?¡± Pride and excitement were evident in his voice. ¡°It lasted a couple more seconds,¡± Sydney teased. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°That¡¯s barely anything!¡± William¡¯s pride dissipated. ¡°What am I doing wrong?,¡± he whined, throwing his head back with his hands over his face. ¡°Well for starters, you¡¯re really easy to knock off balance, beanstalk.¡± Sydney snickered, until he was roughly shoved by his twin and ended up inhaling a piece of his food. He coughed, clearing this throat, glaring at William the whole time. William was quite tall for his age. While Sydney stood a little bit taller than average at 4¡¯6, William was already pushing 5¡¯. ¡°So what you¡¯re saying is that if were to ever be in a real fight, I¡¯d just die, then? It¡¯s not like I can shrink.¡± He wore a look of horror on his face at the revelation. ¡°You lad are nine years old. I shouldn¡¯t hear you talking about ¡®real fights¡¯ for a few years yet, and certainly not your own death.¡± Garreth had tuned back in for that part of the conversation, and lightly chastised his sons without taking his eyes off of the paper. They both fell silent after their father spoke, instead communicating via facial expressions as they plowed food into their mouths. ¡°Done!¡± William slammed a hand on the table and hopped up out of his seat to deposit his plate in the sink. ¡°Why do you always make it a race?,¡± Sydney asked as he shoved food in his mouth, desperately trying to finish. He ended up coughing some back up in his haste, and both William and Garreth glanced at him to make sure he was okay. He lightly hit his chest and put a thumb¡¯s up on the table to tell his family he was alright. ¡°That was twice in one meal,¡± William teased. ¡°You need to learn how to eat.¡± ¡°It was your fault both times!¡± Sydney got up, having finally finished, and joined William at the sink to wash his plate. ¡°William, come here. I want to fix your face.¡± Garreth tossed the paper down onto the table and beckoned his son over. William arrived at his side, and Garreth grabbed the First Aid Kit from the wall beside him, freshly stocked. It used to be kept in the bathroom, but with the influx of sparring matches, William started needing it more and more, and Garreth figured it wise to keep it closer. His son knelt in front of him like usual, and he got a good look at his face. It was no different than usual ¡ª in fact, he sometimes had a hard time distinguishing old marks from new ones ¡ª but he still tsked at the sight. He had a bruised eye, a couple scrapes varying in severity where Sydney accidentally hit him with the stick or sword, and a small line of blood coming from his nose that Sydney swore up and down was from him hitting the ground during his dive. In addition to the injuries, he was just very dirty. Garreth sighed and began tapping William¡¯s face with an alcohol wipe, drawing a wince from him. ¡°Sydney, you¡¯re supposed to be sparring, not boxing. Lay off on your brother a bit.¡± William and Sydney both mumbled ¡®same thing¡¯ under their breath, before Sydney flopped down onto the couch, watching Garreth apply bandages to William¡¯s face. ¡°There you go,¡± Garreth said once he was finished applying the bandages. ¡°Try to let him go a little while without these, alright?¡± Sydney nodded his agreement, but his expression suggested that Garreth would be doing this same thing again tomorrow. William stood up and started to idly wander towards the fireplace, before Garreth suggestinged, ¡°why don¡¯t you play us a song, William?¡± He grinned as though he¡¯d been waiting for someone to asksuggest that ¡ª which he most definitely was ¡ª and immediately took off towards his bedroom. He came down a moment later with a quarter-sized acoustic guitar. It was the same one that he had gotten for his fifth birthday when he wanted to start playing¡ª the same birthday Garreth let Sydney get into sparring and got him necessary materials ¡ª and while there wasn¡¯t much need for a small one now that he¡¯d grown a fair amount, it was just what he used. No one had ever thought to bring up getting a new one. Matt was sitting on their Dad¡¯s knee, shifting around to get comfortable and ready for William to play. Ever since Matt was a baby, he was soothed by William¡¯s music ¡ª despite how simple it was ¡ª and so it was no surprise that he was eager to settle down after Garreth¡¯s suggestion. William found it a little amusing how quick he was to quiet down once the guitar came out, but he also felt a sense of pride at the fact that he was able to impress his younger brother with something, as sparring definitely wouldn¡¯t do it. He sat down on the stone hearth of the fireplace and reached up to grab a pick from a small pile on the mantelpiecemantlepiece. He took a pause and a breath, and watched as his family waited in silent anticipation. He started strumming the guitar aggressively, moving his fingers around the fretboard randomly, creating a selection of horrific and definitely not real chords. ¡°Fuck you, Sydney,¡± he sang, mocking their sparring match that gave him the many scrapes and bruises on his face. He drew out the words to create his own improvised melody as chaotically unorganized as the chords. Matthew grinned mischievously, a devilish grin spread across his face, clearly amused by the cursing. Sydney shook his head at William, but he could tell that the irritation was fake. ¡°William, watch your language,¡± Garreth scolded. ¡°You¡¯re influencing Matthew.¡± William paused and pouted dramatically at his father for a moment before continuing his aggressiveaggressively strumming. ¡°Frick you, Sydney,¡± he sang to the same melody as before. Matthew giggled, and even Sydney was unable to hide his small smile. While he often spoke against William¡¯s cursing, he was still a nine year old boy. William suddenly snapped his hand back and stopped playing, nearly dropping the guitar. He shook his hand for a moment, wincing, but was quickly able to get over it as the sting faded away. He glanced down guiltily as the others stopped to see what had happened, humour lost. One of the guitar strings was curled, hanging loosely from the guitar. Garreth just sighed, rubbing his temples. ¡°You broke it!¡± Matthew sounded completely devastated. This had happened only once before, and Matthew was too young to remember it. To the twins and their father, this was just an end to playing. Matthew, however, looked as though he had just witnessed the greatest catastrophe known to man. Sydney, on the other hand, held absolutely no remorse for his brother. His face was full of humour, and he had to hold back snickers. A snort escaped, and he glanced around quickly trying to make sure no one noticed. Garreth stood and walked out of the room, placing Matthew down onto the chair alone. William rushed after him, terrified. He knew his father would never give him any sort of punishment for something as silly as this, but in such a laidback father, real disappointment was punishment enough. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Dad, I didn¡¯t mean to. I promise, I¡¯ll be more caref¡ª¡± Garreth came back from around the corner with a full sized guitar. It had beautiful, hand-done carvings across the wooden body. ¡°Oh.¡± William calmed down and followed Garreth back to the living room where Sydney and Matthew were waiting. ¡°Your mother played beautifully, and I wanted to learn to impress her, but I never really took to it. I figured I¡¯d hang onto it in case I ever wanted to try again, but you¡¯ve got the skill. It¡¯s yours.¡± William beamed and excitedlyexcited took the instrument from his father. He hurriedly gave his thanks before resuming his position at the fireplace. The guitar was a bit too large and slightly difficult to hold, so he ended up pointing it more upwards than he was supposed to, then went to play. He strummed down once, and they all cringed at the sound it made. Clearly, it had not been tuned in quite some time, so William made quick work of fixing that. They sat waiting as he turned the pegs, listening to the strings¡¯ notes soar higher until they reached the perfect pitch. William strummed down once again, satisfied with the sound. While Sydney had skill with the sword, William had skill with the strings. His fingers moved easily across the fretboard as his right hand worked at strumming and plucking, creating a simple yet beautiful symphony of sounds. There were some times the guitar buzzed when a string wasn¡¯t pressed down hard enough, or moments that William had to pause to get his fingers into position, but everyone enjoyed the music nonetheless, regardless of how choppy it was. For a while into the night, they stayed like that; William playing the guitar and everyone singing along. Even after Matthew had fallen asleep, and William started nodding off, causing the songs to get gradually sloppier, they continued, bobbing along to the music despite Garreth¡¯s constant suggestions for them to go to bed. They stopped only once William was slumped over the guitar, out cold, and they were left only with the sound of his last chord ringing out. ¡°Could you grab him, please?,¡± Garreth asked Sydney quietly, gesturing towards Matthew who was curled up against him, pinning his arm¡¯s down. Sydney gently lifted his younger brother¡¯s head until Garreth was able to warmworm his arms free and grab the boy himself. ¡°Thank you. You can head up to bed now. I¡¯ll grab these two.¡± Sydney walked towards the stairs, whispering, ¡°I love you, Dad,¡± on his way up. ¡°Love you too, Syd.¡± Garreth could hear him linger at the top of the stairs briefly, probably debating waiting for his twin, before he walked into his room and shut the door behind him. ¡°William,¡± Garreth whispered, trying to wake his son. When he didn¡¯t respond, he put Matthew comfortably back onto the chair and then tried to gently shake William awake. He responded with a series of unintelligible grumbles, refusing to get up. ¡°Come on, Will. Just up the stairs, then you can go right back to sleep.¡± William turned his and mumbled something that sounded as though it was supposed to be coherent, but wasn¡¯t. Garreth sighed and picked up Matthew again. ¡°Goodnight then, William. You¡¯ll be down here all alone.¡± With that, Garreth walked upstairs and around the corner to Matthew¡¯s room. He tucked him into bed, then returned to the top of the stairs, leaning against the wall to listen. William hated being left behind ¡ª something to do with ghosts ¡ª so if he fell asleep downstairs, all Garreth had to do was walk away and he¡¯d wake up and come running. However, tonight, Garreth heard no footsteps, which meant he must have been really exhausted. Probably from the excessive fighting with Sydney. He gave in and tiptoed back down the stairs. William was in the exact same spot that he had been when Garreth left: seated, but slumped over, with his face squished into the side of the guitar, his curly hair hanging over the edge of the instrument. He smiled, savouring the moment and how much the boy reminded him of his mother here. He walked over and gently pried the guitar away from his son, leaning it against the wall. William groaned softly in complaint at the loss of his wooden pillow, but settled again once Garreth slide an arm underneath him and lifted him off of the ground. His long legs spilled over Garreth¡¯s arm, dangling limply and swaying slightly with each step up the stairs. Garreth walked into the shared bedroom between the shared bedroom between Sydney and Will, placing his middle son in his bed across the room from his oldest, who was sound asleep now. William rolled over and tightly grabbed his cat plushie and pulled it close to his chest, but aside from that, he didn¡¯t stur. Garreth walked out and smiled to himself before shutting off the hallway light and heading to his room, officially retiring for the night. ¡°Goodnight, boys,¡± he whispered as he settled down into his own bed. God, Science, and a Seven-year-old William Fairburne William believed in science, and, to some extent, William believed in God. He felt that it wasn¡¯t too popular for those two to co-exist, but William always found a way. God said, ¡°let there be light!¡± and science said how he did it. God did, science explained. It was a joint effort, in his opinion. As he got older, he started to see how useful this was. God did curious things, and William often wondered why. Why certain things worked the way that they did. He soon came to realise that with just a quick question to his father, he could know all that there was to know about the world. When he was younger, he often wondered how his father had all the answered, but as he matured, William came to the conclusion that his father must be science. When he was five, he stumbled across his first scientific predicament, having this particular question that no one seemed to know the answer to. He started off by asking Sydney, but he was foolish to do so. Afterall, William was the smartest of the two twins. If anyone were to know, it would be him. But, alas, he didn¡¯t, and so he instead took the question to their father. When the question was asked, Garreth seemed to be at a loss for words. He¡¯d never before seemed to be at a loss for words. Garreth was the entire Oxford dictionary, shuffled up, always. Sort of like the brother he would come to know as Matthew, except with more intelligence behind his sentences. And yet, here he was now, speechless. He said a couple of ¡®ums,¡¯ darted his eyes back and forth a couple of times before placing a hand on William¡¯s shoulder and telling him, ¡°that¡¯s not a conversation for right now.¡± The conversation was dropped. William had thought of that interaction all day, coming to the conclusion that his father simple didn¡¯t know! Science didn¡¯t know. On this, God worked alone, and the thought kept William awake, staring at the ceiling into the darkest hours of the night until. This was the first time he father hadn¡¯t known something that he asked. Even if he wasn¡¯t too knowledgeable on a subject, he¡¯d look it up, bringing home a book for William to read and a bunch of information he got from it. He had never downright avoided the question, which led William to believe that no one knew. There was no book for him to find the answer in; no scientific explanation for what William foolishly assumed would be a simple concept. He¡¯d prayed to God that night, for the first time ever, and asked for him to bestow upon the world the knowledge that they lacked, and to set his mind at ease; William hated the feeling of wonder. He gave it a week before he asked again, figuring God had many other prayers to attend to before he could get around to his. Garreth¡¯s response was simply a light-hearted laugh, followed by, ¡°this again, buddy?¡± You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Rejected. By God. Ouch. It was that day that William decided to take matters into his own hands. If God was going to withhold knowledge so dire, he would have to pry it from the man¡¯s mind. He would find the answer to the world¡¯s unknown question: Where do babies come from? William was patient. He clung onto his goal for two years, finally getting his answer when he was seven. A woman he had never seen before had come to their house one day, asking for Garreth. She was wearing a large, floppy hat brown tulle veil concealing her face. William recalled the delight his father expressed at seeing her. He had taken her hand and led her away. After that first day, she started to come over more and more frequently, and each time, Garreth would take her away. She never showed William her face, not even after he asked politely, with both a please and a thank you. He¡¯d caught a glimpse one time only, when she sat in one of the adirondack chairs, her veiled pulled free from her face as she blew out the smoke from a cigarette. He started to get into the schedule. He¡¯d hear a knock on the door every day shortly before bedtime, and when he father opened it, the woman in the floppy hat was the who knocked, perfectly framed by the doorway. Understandably so, he was completely thrown off when she stopped coming. Months went by without a knock at the door from his father¡¯s favourite woman. Only when William had finally come to accept that she was gone did she knock again, as though she could hear his thoughts and was desperate to prove him wrong. William was eager to greet her, even if she¡¯d never given him the light of day. The door opened, and he saw a baby in her arms. A blond-haired, blue-eyed, screaming baby. William backed away, but to no avail; his father had brought the boy inside. That was the last time William had ever seen the mystery woman. She disappeared like the smoke from a cigarette in the wind, as much of a stranger to him as she had been the day she¡¯d first arrived. William liked to imagine she¡¯d sprouted wings and flew up to Heaven, having just fulfilled William¡¯s only prayer, but he laughed at the idea of an angel being that unceremonious. His father seemed sad for quite some time after that, especially whilst caring for the boy. He could understand why; the boy was loud, and came in place of the woman Garreth seemed so fond of. It was an unfair sacrifice. As the months went by, the boy grew unsettlingly more and more to look like William¡¯s father. He had his hair and eyes, that William had noticed right away, but something about him just seemed to match perfectly. As though the boy was crafted out of clay in Garreth¡¯s image, shaped in a way unable to be reproduced for anyone else. Though, he needn''t be distracted. William had, afterall, been given the answer to his question. All that was left was for him to record his findings. He pulled out a notebook, where many other similar thoughts were well documented, beginning to write. Babies come from a veiled angel, showing up at your doorstep. She may stay for a while, acting unseemly, but in the end, she will leave you with a screaming gift, and ascend back to the skies. William prayed for the second time that night, asking God to please not send her again. He didn¡¯t want another brother. Saturday Morning and a Muffin Sydney Fairburne Sydney always woke up with the sun. There were two windows in his and William¡¯s bedroom, and both of them streamed the light right onto his face. His father had suggested that he simply just change the direction that he lays on the bed, and while he had considered it for some time, he ultimately decided that he liked getting up early. His father was always awake early, and his brothers slept in, which meant that the morning was a time for just the two of them. Garreth would stand at the counter, making breakfast and a cup of coffee, while Sydney just sat at the kitchen table and chatted away. He really enjoyed it. ¡°Anything new happening at school?,¡± Garreth asked, leaning against the counter with his mug in his hand. It was a slow morning; William and Matt slept in for hours on Saturdays, which meant that Garreth was free to pull up a chair and focus on his conversation with Sydney. ¡°Teacher meeting day is coming up,¡± Sydney informed his father, whose eyes widened with realization. ¡°Right! I will definitely be there this year,¡± Garreth promised. He¡¯d missed the last two years of teacher conferences, with Matthew being really young last year, and Matt¡¯s mom being around all the time the year before. Sydney hoped that he was serious this time. ¡°It¡¯s on Thursday.¡± ¡°So, how will that work with me meeting both yours and William¡¯s teachers?,¡± Garreth asked. Sydney pondered for a moment. ¡°You have time to go to both, I think.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± Garreth placed a hand on Sydney¡¯s shoulder for a moment before standing up. ¡°I should start getting breakfast ready, I think. What would you like?,¡± he asked Sydney. ¡°Oatmeal.¡± Sydney was a big fan of oatmeal. It was such a neutral food, which allowed him to do anything with it. Whatever he felt like having could be accomplished with oatmeal. Garreth opened the pantry and looked through it. He took some things out and placed them onto the table beside him, none of which were the requested oatmeal. Finally, he turned to Sydney with a hand on his forehead. ¡°I forgot to go shopping yesterday. I think we¡¯re all out, buddy.¡± Sydney shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s okay. I¡¯ll eat something else.¡± He was the easiest going of his brothers. ¡°If only that would be Matthew¡¯s answer.¡± He sighed inwardly, shaking his head a little bit. There had been several Fridays where he was unable to go out shopping, and the next morning was always a nightmare; Matthew was a picky eater, and Matthew was a nightmare. ¡°Dad?¡± Garreth and Sydney both turned to the stairs where Matthew was hobbling down, clutching the railing as he took one step at a time. ¡°I¡¯m hungry.¡± The two year old was hardly ever awake at this time. It seemed like he was just awake now to make things difficult for Garreth. He turned to his oldest son. ¡°Sydney, would you go wake William, please?¡± The sun, not yet visible in its entirety, was casting a warm glow through the breaks in the leaves as Sydney walked with his two brothers and father along the dirt path leading to town. For some reason, Garreth had chosen to move in on the outskirts of town when he came to Prhyam, which gave them a further walk to get anywhere. However, it was also the reason that they had the large property that he and William took advantage of, so it definitely balanced out. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. William was still rubbing his eyes, hardly even awake and walking like a zombie with their younger brother¡¯s hand in his. Sydney stayed by Garreth¡¯s side, wordlessly. When they emerged from the trees, they were greeted by a half awake town. Few people were outside, doing various different things to prepare for the morning: sweeping their sidewalks, flipping their signs to open, or setting up outdoor stands. Many of them greeted the group as they walked past; they raised their hands and waved to return the gesture. Garreth was directing his children towards a certain part of town, to a certain shop, though they pretty much knew where they were going as soon as they turned onto Alpine Street. It was only about a thirty second walk before they reached a shop with a thick row of flowers along the front wall, and a slanted open sign hanging in the window. Garreth pushed the door open, ringing the bell above it as the four of them streamed in. He was immediately greeted by a small woman, around his age, smiling at him from behind the front desk. She stood up from her round stool as they walked over. Melinda Georges was the wife of the shop¡¯s owner, and she was the one that kept it running. She helped out Garreth a lot when Sydney and William were younger, and she and her oldest daughter had become close friends of the family. The smell of the shop seemed to wake up Sydney¡¯s brothers. Breakfast. There were shelves along all the walls that were lined with many baked goods, from cupcakes to loaves. Sydney had to grab Matthew¡¯s hand and drag him back to their father as he tried to grab a cookie off of one of the shelves. ¡°Good morning, Garreth,¡± Melinda greeted, before turning towards the boys. ¡°And you as well.¡± Matthew smiled widely at her. He¡¯d always seemed to like her. ¡°Morning, Mrs. Georges.¡± ¡°What brings you here this early?,¡± she asked, eyeing Matthew subtly as he reached again for the shelves. Garreth pulled the boy back to his side. ¡°Dad forgot to get us food,¡± Matthew interjected. Melinda glanced towards Garreth, who shook his head lightheartedly. ¡°I forgot to get exactly what Matthew insists is the only at-home breakfast food,¡± he corrected. Melinda laughed. ¡°I see. Well, what can I get for you that¡¯s suitable enough for breakfast?,¡± she asked, lowering herself to Matthew¡¯s level. William and Sydney patiently waited, letting their pickier brother choose first. ¡°I want that muffin.¡± He jabbed his finger against the glass of the display, pointing at a particular blueberry muffin. He quickly added a, ¡°please,¡± feeling his father¡¯s manner-enforcing stare burn into his back. Melinda grabbed a napkin and, reaching into the display, used it to pick up the specific muffin that Matthew had asked for, with some direction, and put it into a paper bag. She turned to the twins after to take their orders, bagging them up just the same. ¡°Thank you, Mrs. Georges.¡± She handed the bags over the counter, and the boys all grabbed them. ¡°Would you like anything?,¡± she asked, turned to Garreth. He shook his head. ¡°I¡¯ll eat back home, but thank you.¡± ¡°Alright, have a nice day!¡± They returned the farewell and exited the store. The brothers were already unwrapping their food, and they tossed the bags into the nearest street garbage bin. ¡°William!¡± The bell above the door rang again as it was flung open. The voice that called was much higher than Melinda¡¯s. William turned to see a girl his age, running towards them. Her hair was a very light dirty blonde, tied up in low pigtails by red ribbons far too long for their purpose that streamed behind her as she ran. She was wearing a pink sweater dress with black tights underneath ¡ª an outfit that she wore almost every time Sydney had see her these past several months. ¡°Cassie!¡± Considering Melinda was around so often when they were younger, her daughter had become a close friend of the family. Specifically William, though. He just always seemed to be able to connect to people easier than Sydney was, however, they were still friendly with each other. The two hugged when Cassie reached them, as if they hadn¡¯t just seen each other yesterday at school. ¡°Would you like to join us back home, Cassandra?¡± She glanced up at her friend¡¯s father. ¡°Can I?,¡± she asked, bouncing up onto the balls of her feet. ¡°Of course!¡± He looked down at the girl fondly as she smiled her appreciation. ¡°I have to ask my mum, I¡¯ll be back!¡± She immediately turned and raced off back to the shoppe. The bell jingled, and Sydney watched through the window as she rushed up towards her mom, continuing her subtle bouncing. After about thirty seconds of conversation, Cassie came back out of the shoppe. Her cheerful demeanor told the group that her mother had allowed her to come, which wasn¡¯t really too much of a surprise; she spent many of her weekends over at their house. The group of five went back down the path the four had originally come up, William and Cassie a little ways ahead laughing with each other. Sydney, Matthew, and Garreth stayed a little behind, walking with each other. When they got to the house, William and Cassie ran out into the yard, laughing still. Sydney followed along with his younger brother and father, lingering a little behind them as they went up to the veranda. ¡°Why don¡¯t you go join them?¡± Sydney paused for a moment, considering his father¡¯s suggestion. He decided there was no reason not to, and hopped down the steps to race towards his twin and his friend. As he was leaving, he heard Matthew¡¯s upset mumble. ¡°I want to go.¡± ¡°I know, buddy,¡± Garreth replied. Sydney glanced back for a moment before guiltily continuing.