The Boy from Left Field Read Free Page A

ambition! With all the other nuts, right? Anyway, we have two great teachers for our class. Ms. Calloway and Ms. Clark — you’ll love them. They’re strict but really cool. They know a lot and give us great projects. I’m doing one on China and Europe in the Middle Ages. We’re doing a media study and a musical on The Canterbury Tales . But why are you hanging around this shoe store? Do you live around here?”
    “No, I just live a few blocks away, behind the Shalimar Restaurant. The guy who owns this shoe store is a friend of mine. He likes baseball and coaches me. I’m going to be a baseball player — maybe. I might be a scientist, too — in case I don’t make it in baseball.”
    Panny stood with her bike, petting Chew-Boy with one hand and steadying her handlebars with the other. Her yellow running shoes restlessly tapped the pavement as if she were about to take off.
    “I like science, too,” Panny told him. “Luckily, I’m good at math, but I think I might be a vet, or maybe a ballet dancer. There are quite a few options. I live down this street, by the way.”
    “Oh, yeah? Have you ever heard of a gang called the Rippers? They stole my best baseball stuff and gave me a black eye. I hope you don’t run into them.”
    Panny’s dark eyes grew wider. “That’s terrible! Was it at night? Did they attack your taxicab? My parents don’t let me go around at night. They don’t attack people in the daytime, do they?”
    “I don’t think so. But you’d better be careful. That’s a nice-looking bike and Chew-Boy wouldn’t be much protection.”
    “Don’t insult Chew-Boy — he’s very smart. He can bite if he has to. But did you try to find the gang and get your stuff back?”
    Hawk shook his head. “That would be crazy! I don’t want to end up dead!”
    Panny nodded. “I see your point. But maybe not direct action. Maybe just do some tracking and then turn them over to the police. Let me think about it. I have lots of friends in this neighbourhood. I can find out things. Maybe I’ll see you in class in a few days — if you make it there. And just in case, I’ll give you my cellphone number. You can call me if you have some big problem — but not too big a problem!”
    Hawk was dumbfounded. He stood by as she wrote down the number. Was she serious in thinking she could do something? He could only nod, gape at her, and mumble, “Yeah, I’ll see you … if I make that class…. And thanks for the number!” Panny smiled, waved, and wobbled away on her bike. She picked up speed quickly and zoomed off down the street.
    Hawk, scratching his head and wondering about this unexpected encounter, turned and pushed open the door of the shoe shop.
    Chick Ciccarelli, Mr. Rizzuto’s assistant, glanced up from his workbench. He grunted and greeted Hawk with an ironical but friendly smile. “Well, well, look who’s here!” He turned toward the back of the shop, the number 10 now clearly visible on his T-shirt. “Hey, Mr. Billy, it’s the rookie, all by himself and looking wet.” Hawk stood there awkwardly, suddenly feeling shy.
    Ciccarelli stretched his muscular arms and yawned. “What’s the matter, kid, they haul away your taxicab?”
    Hawk started to answer, but before he could finish a sentence, a short, skinny old man darted out from the rear of the shop. He pulled off his straw boater, scratched his bushy grey hair and his long red nose, and beamed at the visitor.
    “Hawk! Holy cow! Imagine that you show up now, and in the rain, too. I’m glad you’re here, kid. I’m very glad. You and I have something big to talk over. C’mon in the back and I’ll warm up a pizza — you look like you haven’t had a decent lunch.”
    Chick Ciccarelli stood up and muttered, “Yeah, come to think of it, it’s time for my break.”
    Hawk followed Mr. Rizzuto in to the back of the shop.

Chapter 3
    The Bambino’s Shadow
    Mr. Rizzuto cut the pizza, lifted a generous slice onto a plate, and handed it to