Steal That Base! (6 page)

“So go for it,” Victor said. He pushed the microphone at me and undid the mute button.

I remembered all the times I practiced at home. I could do this. I made my voice deep and booming. “Now batting for the Porcupines: the left fielder, BRRRRIAN DANNNIELS!” I heard my own voice echoing over the speakers. It was amazing.

Victor grabbed the microphone. “Of course he means the
right
fielder,
Danny O'Brien
!” He hit the mute button.

“Ulp. Sorry,” I whispered. I always got those two confused.

“Easy mistake,” Victor told me. “Anyone could make it.” He picked up his pencil.

“Thanks,” I said. I hung my head and went back down to the Porcupines' dugout. I was so mad at myself, I forgot to ask Victor to make the announcement.

hoped that nobody noticed my mess-up. That hope didn't last long.

“I heard your voice on the speakers,” Abby whispered as soon as I got back to the dugout.

“Huh? It must have been some other kid.”

“It sure sounded like you. What did you do? Did you find Petunia?”

“No, I kind of blew it,” I admitted. “But we still have two more innings.”

“I'll go greet fans and try to spot her,” said Abby. She tucked the box with the
bobblehead under her arm. “I'm off to find Petunia.”

“Good luck.”

“Never say that to an actor. It's bad luck. You're supposed to say ‘Break a leg.'”

“How about ‘Break a quill'?”

“Perfect!”

Spike went out onto the field and waved at fans, then went up the stairs to shake hands with people.

I watched the game. The Porcupines were still batting. It sure was a long inning, but the Porcupines hadn't scored. Everything was just taking forever. I saw Gustavo reach into his pocket, then pop something in his mouth. He was still eating marshmallows, even while he was playing!

Sammy Solaris sat down next to me.

“Hey, was that you on the PA system?”

“Nope,” I lied. “It was some other kid.”

“Nah, it was you,” said Sammy.

“OK, yeah. It was me. I messed up the name. I got Brian confused with Danny.”

“Ah, don't worry about it,” said Wayne. “Even they can't tell each other apart—can you, Danny?” He looked at a player returning to the dugout.

“I'm Brian.”

“See what I mean?” said Wayne.

The seventh inning was finally over. Most of the players grabbed their gloves and headed back to the field. Sammy stayed behind because he was the DH, or designated hitter. The DH hits instead of the pitcher.

“Now pitching for the Porcupines . . . Nate Link!” said Victor Snapp.

Nate is what they call a sidewinder. Instead of pitching overhand, he pitches from the side.
He threw a few warm-up pitches to Wayne Zane behind the plate. Wayne had to reach way out to catch one. He didn't look too happy.

“Uh-oh. Looks like Nate doesn't have his best stuff today,” said Sammy.

Pokey and Spike came out and played catch with an oversize baseball. Spike kept throwing the ball far away from Pokey. When Pokey ran to get the ball, Spike turned to the audience and grinned. The fans laughed.

“I can give you a baseball card now,” I told Sammy. “Dylan brought me my binder.”

“It doesn't matter,” he said. “I'll have to tell Wendy that her uncle can't steal a base no matter how hard he puts his mind to it. Even if I get to bat again, and even if I reach base, Grumps will never give me the sign.”

“He might,” I said. “In the right situation.”

I got the binder and flipped through the
pages. I looked at the stat for SB, or stolen bases.

“If you do give me one, it doesn't have to be a world-class base stealer,” said Sammy. “Just someone who steals a base once in a while.”

“How about this guy?” I gave him my 2010 Bengie Molina card.

“Ha. Good one,” Sammy said, but he handed the card back to me.

“What's wrong?”

“Molina's a good hitter and a great catcher. But he's a slow runner. If me and him and a snail and a turtle were in a race . . .” Sammy thought it over. “Well, the turtle would win, but I'd beat the snail and Bengie Molina.”

“That's the point! He's still stolen a few bases.” I showed Sammy the back of the card. “See? Three stolen bases. And this doesn't show the one he stole in the playoffs.”

 

“He must have gotten lucky.”

“Maybe. Or maybe the situation was just right. Anyone can steal a base in the right situation.”

“I don't know.” Sammy looked at the card. “You know, I do like Bengie. He's a great player. I like all three of the Molinas.” Bengie had two brothers who also played Major League Baseball. All three Molinas were catchers. “So if Bengie can steal a base, I can too?” he asked.

“In the right situation,” I told him.

“How do I know when that is?”

“You'll get the sign.”

“The sign from the manager?” Sammy asked.

“Yeah.”

“I heard that,” said Grumps from the other end of the bench. “Don't hold your breath.”

“Just wait for the right situation,” I whispered.

“All right,” Sammy whispered back. “Me
and Bengie are going to steal a base for Wendy.” He tucked the card in his pocket.

Grumps didn't say anything, so I guess he didn't hear
that
.

• • •

The first batter for the Finches in the top of the eighth inning was Gustavo. He popped a marshmallow in his mouth, went to the plate, and hit his second home run of the game.

“Now we're losing,” said Sammy. “I don't like that.”

“Him and his marshmallows,” I said.

“What?”

“Nothing. It's just a fluke.” I didn't want to give Sammy any ideas. He couldn't steal a base if he filled up on marshmallows.

Spike came back to the dugout before the next batter got to the plate.

“Your porcupine friend is here again,” said Sammy.

“Yeah.” I stood up so Abby could whisper to me.

“I can't find Petunia anywhere,” she said. “It's just a sea of people. And she's so small. What am I going to do?”

Did I dare go back to Victor Snapp? I gulped. Did I have a choice? Hmm . . . I did.

There was one other person at the ballpark practically everyone could hear.

“I'll be right back,” I told Abby.

went to the seating area above the visitors' dugout. I was looking for the man with the loudest mouth in all of Pine City: Ernie Hecker.

I knew his voice, but I didn't know what he looked like. I had never met him. I only knew his name because everybody knew it. “There goes Ernie Hecker again,” people would say every time he hollered.

I needed something to happen. Something Ernie would
have
to comment on.

Sammy was right. The Pines' pitcher, Nate
Link, did not have his best stuff going on. He'd given up that home run to Gustavo, and then he had walked a batter. Nate was one pitch away from walking the next batter.

He threw ball four. The batter took first, and the runner on first moved to second.

I waited for Ernie to yell something snarky. He didn't. Everyone in the section was just watching the game.

Maybe Ernie had left early?

The next batter stepped into the box. It was Jonny, the sleepy catcher. Nate sped a fastball by him. The umpire called it a ball. The next pitch got by the catcher (
both
catchers) and rolled to the backstop. Wayne went to get it.

“That's a wild pitch,” said Victor Snapp, “and Wayne Zane seems to have tripped over somebody crawling around in foul territory.”

I leaned over the dugout fence and craned
my neck to see what was going on. Dylan was crawling around in the dirt between the dugout and the backstop. The umpire tapped him on the shoulder. Dylan stood up, and the umpire spoke to him.

“It's a batboy,” said Victor Snapp. “A batboy was crawling around in foul territory. What was he doing?”

“HELPING NATE LINK FIND THE PLATE!” Ernie Hecker answered.

Every single person in the ballpark must have heard him. A lot of them laughed.

And I had found my man. Ernie was in the third row. He wore glasses and a red polo shirt and was mostly bald.

“Excuse me.” I edged past some fans and got to Ernie. The seat next to him was open.

“Hi,” I said. “Can I please sit here a minute?”

“Help yourself,” said Ernie. “It's my brother's seat, but he's not here today.”