Babe & Me Read Free

must be selling off his card collection, I figured. He must need money pretty badly.
    â€œDon’t ask Joey to return a gift,” Mom lectured him. “I’ll lend you money.”
    â€œQuiet, Terry.”
    â€œI’ll get the card,” I said.
    I keep my older, more valuable cards in clear plastic holders. This is partly to protect them and partly because I get that tingling sensation when I touch them. I wouldn’t want to send myself back through time accidentally.
    The Ruth card was the gem of my collection. It was from 1932 and very rare. My dad got the card for next to nothing from some lady who’d sold her husband’s old card collection after he died. She had no idea it was valuable. The card was in good condition. I looked it up in a book once, and the book said it was worth ten thousand dollars.
    I didn’t want to give the card back. Someday, I thought, I would use that card. My dad had told me the story of the called shot many times. It fascinated me. Someday, I thought, when my mom felt I was old enough, I would travel through timeagain. I would see with my own eyes whether or not the Babe called his famous home run in the 1932 World Series. If I gave the card back to Dad and he sold it, I would never get the chance.
    That’s when I came up with an idea.
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    I ran down the stairs with the Ruth card in my hand. Mom and Dad were standing around awkwardly, trying to make small talk.
    â€œInstead of giving you the card,” I suggested, “what if I use it?”
    â€œWhat do you mean, use it?” Mom asked suspiciously.
    â€œYou mean use it to go back in time?” Dad asked.
    â€œYeah. I could go back to 1932 and bring back a bunch of cards. You’ll make a lot more money than if you just sold this one.”
    â€œAbsolutely not!” my mother exclaimed. “We talked about this, Joey. I won’t have you going back in time anymore.”
    â€œAw, Mom!”
    â€œWhy not?” Dad asked.
    â€œBecause it’s too dangerous, that’s why not,” Mom explained. “What if Joey got stuck in the 1930s? Or killed?”
    â€œI’m not going to get killed,” I insisted. “Please, Mom?”
    â€œNo!”
    â€œI don’t want to give the card back,” I protested. “It will be so easy for me to just travel back to1932, grab some old baseball cards, and bring them back with me. Dad could sell them for a lot of money.”
    â€œYou see what you started?” Mom glared at Dad.
    â€œWhat did I do?” Dad asked, holding his hands up innocently.
    â€œYou started him on this stupid card collecting.”
    â€œIt’s not stupid!” I chimed in.
    â€œWell,” Dad said, “what if I went back with Joe?”
    â€œYou mean, back to 1932?” I asked.
    â€œYeah. Can we do that? Can you take someone with you?”
    â€œI don’t know,” I admitted. I had never tried to take anyone with me.
    â€œYou hardly spend any time with Joey in the present ,” Mom complained. “You expect to take care of him in the past? ”
    â€œI’m unemployed now,” Dad said. “I’ve got plenty of time. I’ll take good care of the boy, Terry. I am his father.”
    Mom shook her head and let out a sigh.
    â€œHow long will it take?” she asked.
    â€œA few days,” I replied.
    â€œI’ll give you three days,” she told Dad. “If Joey’s not back in three days, I will never let you take him anywhere again.”
    Big deal , I thought. He hardly ever takes me anywhere anyway .
    â€œWe’ll be back,” Dad said. “I promise.”
    I had mixed feelings about taking Dad back intime with me. It would be awkward hanging out with him, I knew. But it might give us a chance to get to know each other again, too. And who knew? Maybe I would be able to find out why he was so angry all the time. I walked Dad to the door and asked him when we would