The Fenway Foul-Up (4 page)

The souvenir stand stood in a corner by the main gate. Big circular racks of red and blue team shirts crowded the front entrance. Jerseys, balls, bobbleheads, and even Red Sox dog collars hung along the shop’s back walls.

Bins of bats and racks filled with posters sat on the floor. Near the entrance stood a small glass checkout counter. The woman behind the cash register flipped through the
pages of a travel magazine while a few customers looked at T-shirts.

The kids stopped at the pizza stand opposite the souvenir shop to make a plan.

“Let’s split up. You go to the counter and keep the saleslady busy,” said Kate. “I’ll sneak in behind those racks of clothing. I want to check out the
bates de béisbol.
”

Kate pointed to a bin of wooden bats in the back corner. The sign above the bin read
BIG D’S BATTER’S BOX. OFFICIAL BATS JUST LIKE BIG D’S
.

“I’m going to see if one of those bats fits inside a poster tube,” Kate said. Near the bats was a rack filled with white tubes containing the Big D life-size posters. “Then we’ll know if the man with the Yankees hat has the stolen bat hidden inside his tube. Just keep her busy, okay?”

Mike casually waved his hand at Kate. “No problem,” he said. “I’m good at asking dumb questions.”

When Mike got to the counter, the saleslady barely looked up from the glossy pictures of surfers and sandy beaches in the magazine in front of her. “Can I help you?” she mumbled.

Mike could tell that she didn’t think a nine-year-old kid was an important customer.

“Umm, yeah,” Mike replied. He watched Kate slip into the store and vanish behind a rack of clothes. He looked down at the small glass case. Inside were watches, baseballs, and other souvenirs. “I was wondering how much that thing is.”

He pointed vaguely at a baseball in the case. Out of the corner of his eye, Mike saw Kate edge over to the rack of posters. She
picked one up and sneaked out of view.

“Well, it depends what you want,” the saleslady said. She set her magazine aside. “What are you interested in?”

Mike pointed to the top shelf. “How about that?” he asked.

The saleslady picked up a pack of baseball cards.

“No, no, no …,” said Mike. “Not that. I want
thiiiiisssss.
” He pointed to the baseball next to the cards.

The woman sighed. She took out the ball and handed it to Mike. He turned it over in his hands. The ball was covered with signatures of Red Sox players.

“Are these real?” he asked. Mike could tell they were just printed on the baseball. But he was trying to buy Kate some more time.

“Huh? No,” said the saleslady. “The players didn’t actually sign that ball. The signatures are just stamped on. A ball signed by all the Red Sox would cost more like eight hundred dollars, not eighteen dollars.”

“Oh,” Mike said, “I don’t want it, then. Can I see that pen instead?”

The woman rolled her eyes and took the ball back from Mike. She returned it to the case and pulled out a brightly colored pen. It lit up red when a button was pushed.

Mike pushed the button over and over. The red light went on and off. The saleslady sighed again.

In the back of the store, Kate crouched next to the bin filled with replica Big D baseball bats. She glanced at the register. The saleslady was busy with Mike. Now was the perfect time.

Kate reached into the back of the bin and pulled out a bat.

Before it was halfway out, she realized the handle was speckled with sticky brown streaks. There were also scuff marks on the barrel of the bat.

“Yuck,” she said. Kate put it back and wiped her hands on her pants. She didn’t want to get the poster dirty. Quickly she picked another bat. The second bat was perfect, with a shiny wooden barrel and a clean handle.

Kate held it in her hand and popped off the end of the plastic poster tube. The poster was rolled tightly against the inside of the tube, leaving a big empty opening in the middle.

Kate slipped the bat into the tube. With a soft
whoosh
, it disappeared completely.

The bat fit perfectly inside the plastic poster tube!

Before anyone could see, Kate tipped the tube upside down, slid the bat out, and placed it back in the bin.

Up at the counter, Mike finished with the light-up pen. He paused for a moment and then asked to see a small wooden Red Sox bat.

The woman pulled out the bat and handed it to Mike. The top of the bat was painted red while the handle was wood-colored. Mike pretended to swing it. The saleslady didn’t even crack a smile.

“I don’t think you’ll hit a home run with that,” said Kate, coming up behind him. “Ready to go?”

“I guess so,” Mike said. He set the bat down on the counter. “Thanks. I’m just not sure what I want. Maybe I’ll come back later.”

“Suit yourself,” the woman said. She put the mini bat away and returned to her magazine.

Mike and Kate stopped next to the pizza stand.

“Did the bat fit?” Mike asked.

“Yes, perfectly,” Kate said. “I think the man in the Yankees cap has Big D’s bat inside his poster tube!”

“Wow!” said Mike. “But wouldn’t people have seen him take it?”

“Not if they were all looking at Wally!” said Kate. “I’ll bet he took the bat when everyone was watching Big D help Wally get up. He only needed a few seconds. He could have reached over the infield railing, grabbed the bat, and slipped it inside the poster tube. It’s probably been right in front of us all this time!”

Big D at Bat

The second inning had just started. The Oakland A’s were batting. They were already ahead by two runs, 2–0.

Loopy Lenfield, one of Boston’s best pitchers, was on the mound. Loopy used his long fingers to throw knuckleball pitches that confused batters with weird dips and bobbles. When they worked, his knuckleballs were very hard to hit.

Mike and Kate slipped back into their
seats just as Boston made the second out of the inning.

One row in front of them, the man in the Yankees hat was watching the game along with all the other fans. Now a little boy sat next to him.

Kate elbowed Mike in the ribs. “See? The poster tube is still next to his seat,” she whispered. “Who’s that kid with him?”

“His grandson?” Mike guessed. “But maybe he’s a decoy. Who would arrest a grandfather and his grandson?”

Kate twirled the end of her ponytail around her finger. She looked doubtful. “I don’t know,” she said. “Let’s keep our eyes on that poster tube.”

“Okay, but I want to see the game, too,” Mike agreed. “We can hang here, watch the game, and wait for
him
to make a move.”

On the field, Boston’s first baseman caught a pop fly for the last out. The Athletics left their dugout and ran onto the field. Boston’s players got ready to hit.

“Now batting for Boston,” boomed the announcer, “Corky Collllllinnnnnns!”

Everyone cheered as Boston’s center fielder, Corky Collins, stepped to the plate. Oakland’s pitcher went into his windup. He let a fastball fly.

Corky swung around on his heels. He stretched his arms and the bat out as far as he could to reach the pitch. He hit it perfectly.

POW!

The ball took off, and so did the Athletics’ right fielder. Just as the ball was about to clear the outfield wall, he jumped up and pulled it out of the air. The white ball stayed cradled at the top of his glove.

The crowd roared. Corky Collins was robbed of a home run!

“Bummer!” said Mike. “But what a cool catch! That’s called a snow cone catch. The ball stays at the top of the glove, like a snow cone. Get it—a cool catch?”

Kate groaned and rolled her eyes.

The crowd cheered again. Boston’s number two hitter was up. One more batter and it would be Big D’s turn.

Three pitches later, the Boston batter headed back to the dugout. He had struck out. Oakland was having a good day. But the Boston fans weren’t worried.

“Big D, Big D, Big D …,” the crowd chanted. A huge cheer went up when Big D came to the plate. It was so loud that Kate and Mike could barely hear the announcer.

Big D wasn’t smiling as he usually did.

He also wasn’t carrying his lucky bat. Instead, he held a dark brown bat. He stood next to the plate to test it.

“Oh no,” said Mike. “Big D took six practice swings. Usually he only takes three. He must not be happy with that bat.”

“Gee, Mike,” Kate said. “How do you
know
these things?”

Mike shrugged.

The pitcher hurled the ball toward the home plate. It came in high and fast.

Swish!
All that Big D’s bat hit was air.

The pitcher wound up again and threw. It looked like another good pitch. Big D swung a second time.

Nothing! The Boston fans really wanted him to hit a home run. Could he do it without his lucky bat?

Big D dug his foot into the dirt. He took a
few more practice swings and waited for the next pitch.

The ball sailed over the plate. Big D swung. His bat connected with a powerful
THUNK
.

“Come on. Come on. Come on!” shouted Mike.

The ball zoomed almost straight up. The catcher tore off his mask. He backed up a few feet and positioned himself under the ball as it fell.

“Drop it! Drop it!” Mike shouted.

PLUNK!
The ball landed right in the catcher’s glove. Big D had popped out.

“Rats,” Mike said, slapping his knee. “We needed a run.”

The inning was over. Big D shuffled back to the dugout and tossed his bat to Bobby the batboy.

During Big D’s turn at bat, Kate had also kept an eye on the man in the Yankees hat. She grabbed her cousin’s arm. “Mike, look!” she exclaimed.

The man was reaching for the poster tube.
He handed the long white tube to the boy.

The boy, who looked about six, grabbed the tube excitedly. He gave the man a huge hug. Mike and Kate leaned forward to eavesdrop.

“How’d you know I wanted one of these, Grandpa Kevin?” the boy asked.

“I may be a Yankees fan, Nathan, but I know you love the Red Sox and Big D,” said Grandpa Kevin. “I thought it would look great in your bedroom.”

“I can’t wait to hang it up,” Nathan said.