The All-Star Joker (3 page)

They headed straight for a long breakfast buffet in the middle of the room.

With a wink, Kate picked up a napkin from the buffet table. She and Mike paused to examine the breakfast items. Mike looked longingly at the strips of crispy bacon and the steaming piles of blueberry pancakes. Kate leaned over the rows of strawberry and cinnamon muffins as if she were trying to decide on one.

“Ready?” she whispered. She glanced around the restaurant. The other people who had come in were busy finding tables.

“Ready,” Mike said.

“Duck and cover!” Kate said. She dropped her napkin on the floor. Mike leaned down to tie his shoe. In seconds, they had lifted the
white cloth draped over the edge of the table and slid underneath.

Mike crossed his legs. “Now what?” he whispered. It was dark under the table.

“We wait and listen,” Kate said. “If someone is trying to frame Andy’s dad, he’s probably from the National League team. Maybe he’ll give away the plan!”

Kate positioned herself at the end of the table by the front of the restaurant. Mike hid about fifteen feet away, at the other end of the table.

Soon, people started coming through the buffet line. As they passed by, Mike and Kate could hear their conversations. It was easy to tell which people were baseball players. They were talking about teams, pitchers, or ballparks.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until Kate heard a raspy voice talking about the American League team. “Psst,” she hissed softly to Mike. Kate cupped her ear with her hand to signal to listen closely.

“I’m just
itching
to see them bat,” the man rasped. He snorted a little. “Especially after yesterday. It would be nice to see the American League lose for once.”

Another man’s voice responded with a chuckle. “Well, I’d like to see their winning streak fall apart like that chair!”

Kate slid over as the men moved down the buffet line. “They know about the itching powder and the broken chair!” she whispered. “Maybe they had something to do with it.”

But before the men spoke again, something rustled at the edge of the table. A hand lifted the white drape. Their hiding place flooded
with light. A waiter glared down at them.

Mike gulped. He tried to pretend he was looking for something. Kate simply stared back at the man.

“Can I help you?” the waiter asked. “If you’d like some food, you’ll need to get in line like everyone else.”

Kate shrugged. “We were just playing hide-and-seek,” she said. “But we’re finished. We’re going to have breakfast.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” the man said. He held the cloth up as Mike and Kate crawled out from under the table. As Kate did, she glanced at the men they had just overheard. One was tall and skinny. The other was short with a bushy head of hair.

“Kate! Mike! I’m back here,” Kate’s mother called from a table in the corner. They rushed over to her, happy to leave the waiter behind. “I
knew you two came down early, but I didn’t see you here,” Mrs. Hopkins said. “Where were you?”

“Oh, just playing a little hide-and-seek,” Kate said. “But we’re hungry now.”

“I’ll bet you are,” Mrs. Hopkins said. “Perhaps that nice man in the white shirt can help you pick out some food.”

Kate blushed. Mike fidgeted with his baseball.

“Anyway, take a look over there,” Mrs. Hopkins said. “That’s Home Run Harry. He held the record for home runs when I was a girl.”

Mike straightened up to look. He tossed his baseball from his left hand to his right. “Think he’d autograph my ball?”

“Why don’t you wait until he’s done with breakfast and ask?” Mrs. Hopkins said. “For now, let’s eat.”

Mike, Kate, and Mrs. Hopkins heaped their
plates full of fruit, muffins, and pancakes. While they were eating, Mike and Kate kept an eye on the men they had overheard earlier.

“Hey, Mom,” Kate said. “Do you know who those two men are? We heard them talking about the home run derby earlier.”

Mrs. Hopkins studied the men for a moment. “Yes, the tall man is a trainer for the National League team. The short man is writing a book about one of the players.”

“We were thinking they might have put the itching powder in Big D’s uniform yesterday,” Kate said. “They seemed to be laughing about it today.”

“Well, it was pretty funny,” Kate’s mom said. “Unless you’re Big D, of course. But I’m pretty sure they didn’t do it. They would get in a lot of trouble if they did. Either of you want more juice?”

Kate and Mike shook their heads. While Mrs. Hopkins went to refill her glass, Kate and Mike scanned the room to see who else was there. Mike spotted Sparky and the manager for the National League team at one of the tables. Kate pointed out a group of pitchers at another table. The Rocket sat at a table near the front door. He was talking to the man in the fancy suit he had talked with yesterday.

When they finished breakfast, Mike glanced over at Home Run Harry. He was finishing a cup of coffee.

“Hang on just a minute,” Mike said. He walked over to Harry and asked for an autograph. Kate watched as Harry signed the ball.

A minute later, Mike returned to the table, beaming from ear to ear. “He signed my baseball!” he said. Mike showed the ball to Kate’s
mom. Harry’s signature was scrawled across the baseball’s sweet spot.

“That’s great!” Mrs. Hopkins said. She looked at her watch. “We should head out. I need to get to the ballpark early today.”

Kate and Mike followed her. Mike was so busy looking at Home Run Harry’s signature that he didn’t notice a chair sticking out into the aisle near the front door.

“Oof!” Mike’s left sneaker caught on the chair leg. He grabbed the back of the chair to steady himself, but the ball popped out of his hand. It bounced and rolled along the carpet.

Mike scurried after his ball. It rolled under an empty table near the front door, right behind the Rocket’s table. As Mike picked up the ball, he heard a voice behind him. He glanced over to see the man in the fancy white suit talking to the Rocket.

“Winning the home run derby last night was really, really big. If you play well today, I
guarantee
you’ll end up with a great contract for the next five years!” the man said. “Get as much playing time as you can. I’ll do everything I can to help get you a huge contract!”

The Rocket nodded. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get out on the field and show them what I can do,” he said. “Tonight’s the night!”

Mike backed away quietly and hurried to catch up to Kate. She was waiting for him in the hallway.

“I found out who the practical joker is!” Mike said.

Kate’s eyes grew wide. “Who?”

“The Rocket!” Mike said. “I just heard him talking to that guy in the white suit. I think he’s the Rocket’s agent. The agent says if the Rocket gets more playing time, he’ll get a better contract! The Rocket’s trying to make himself look
good
and Josh look
bad
!”

A Slippery Situation

Andy was waiting for Kate and Mike near the entrance to the stadium. Behind him on the field, players were stretching and running sprints.

“Did you find out anything?” Andy asked. “I’ll bet it was one of the National League players in the home run derby!”

“No,” Kate said. “But you’re close. It was one of the
American
League players in the home run derby.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Andy said.
“Why would someone want to hurt their own team?”

“Because they could get more playing time if one of the other players couldn’t play,” said Mike. “Like one of the two catchers.”

Andy looked shocked. “You think the Rocket is the practical joker?” he asked.

“Mike overheard him talking to his agent at breakfast,” Kate said. “He’ll get more TV time if your father doesn’t play. If the Rocket does well, he’ll get a much bigger contract. He can make a lot of money if your father sits on the bench.”

A shrill whistle brought everyone’s attention to the dugout. Sparky called out for the team to gather. Mike, Kate, and Andy bounded down the aisle to the edge of the dugout.

Sparky paced back and forth. “I want everyone sharp for tonight’s all-star game,” he
said. He rapped his clipboard. “And no funny business! We have a game to win. Before we break, let’s go over the notes.”

Sparky glanced down at the clipboard. The paper was blank. He flipped it and examined
the other side. It was blank as well. He reached up and scratched just behind his ear. “Darn it, now! Who took my notes? I just wrote them on the clipboard a few minutes ago.”

Most of the players shook their heads. “Don’t know, Coach,” said one.

Finally, a player on the far side of the bench spoke up. “Did you write them with this?” he asked, holding up a black pen.

Sparky nodded.

“That’s the problem,” the player said. “My son has one of these.” He took the pen and wrote
hello
on a scrap of paper and waited. There was silence in the dugout. A few players coughed and cleared their throats.

After another minute, Sparky dug his foot into the floor. “And your point is?” he asked.

The player looked at the piece of paper. “There,” he said. The word had vanished!

“The old disappearing ink joke! Someone left a bunch of these pens around the dugout,” the player said. “You must have picked one up and written your notes with it.”

Sparky looked as if he were about to say something, but bit his lip. He tossed the clipboard on the bench instead. “That’s it. Hit the fields, everyone. In an hour, we’ll go over the lineup. I’m making some changes,” he said, glaring at Josh.

The players filed out to the field. When Josh stood up, Sparky tapped him on the shoulder with the pen.

“If I find out that you’re pulling any more practical jokes, the joke will be on you,” Sparky warned him. “I’ll bench you for the entire game!”

Josh held up his hands. “I didn’t have anything to do with the pens,” he said. “Honest! I’m not the one pulling practical jokes.”

Sparky’s eyes narrowed. He pushed his face up close to Josh’s. “Well, someone is, and you’re the biggest suspect. One more joke and it won’t be the ink that’s disappearing. It’ll be you!”