The Fenway Foul-Up Read Free Page B

umbrellas with them. One man had a long crutch and a bandaged leg, but the crutch was too narrow to hold a bat. They checked, but the bat wasn’t hiddenunder any of the seats around them or by the Red Sox dugout.

    “Hey, what about the man in the Yankees hat?” asked Kate. “Remember the poster tube that he kicked over? Maybe he stole the bat and hid it in the tube!”
    Mike glanced at the man. The long white tube was leaning against the armrest next to him.
    “It’s long enough to hold a bat,” said Mike. “But it might not be wide enough. I don’t know if a bat would fit inside.”
    “I’ve got an idea,” Kate said. “I saw a souvenir stand near the entrance. Let’s go do an experiment!”

The Experiment
    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 thepages 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. Shepicked 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