Steal That Base! by Kurtis Scaletta, Eric Wight Page B

Tommy Harris hit a triple, and Mike Stammer brought him in with a sacrifice fly. It would have been so great to be there. I knew what Uncle Rick meant about never leaving a game early. Too bad Mom and Dad didn’t understand.
    I got dressed, bounded down the stairs, and ate a bowl of cereal.
    Mom saw me put the bowl in the dishwasher.
    â€œDo you need lunch?” she asked.
    â€œI can get a hot dog at the ballpark.”
    â€œYou’ve been eating a lot of hot dogs lately,” she said. “Why don’t I pack you a lunch while you walk the dog?”
    â€œOh, yeah.” It was my job to walk our dog in the morning. Penny was near her food bowl. She looked up at me with great big eyes and made a whimpering noise.
    â€œHi, girl.” I reached for the food bin.
    â€œShe’s already had breakfast,” said Mom.
    â€œAw, Mom. She wants more,” I said. Penny was still staring at me. “It would make her happy.”
    â€œShe’s happy when she’s eating a second breakfast,” said Mom. “She’s not happy when she’s all out of breath on a short walk.”
    â€œShe just has little legs.” I took a handful of kibble and put it in my pocket.
    Mom didn’t notice. “Walk the dog while I make your lunch,” she said.
    I could still be on time if I hurried. I put the leash on Penny and took her out for a quick trot around the block.
    Mom was right—Penny was panting before we got to the corner. She was getting kind of roly-poly these days. She was still cute, though.
    â€œHi, Chad!”
    I turned and saw Abby. She waved at mefrom across the street. Abby worked for the Pines too, and was in my grade at school. She ran across the street to meet us.
    â€œI’m going to the ballpark early,” she explained. She reached out and let Penny lick her hand. “It’s a big day. They’re giving out bobbleheads. Hey, aren’t you supposed to be there by now?”
    â€œI’m leaving as soon as I’m done walking the dog.” I took the dog food from my pocket and fed it to Penny.
    â€œI’ll walk to the ballpark with you,” said Abby.
    â€œWe’re going to have to walk fast,” I told her. Usually I rode my bike.
    â€œNo problem. I can walk superfast.”
    We took Penny home, and Mom gave me my lunch. I peeked at it. It was pasta salad and baby carrots.
    â€œThere’s not even a cookie,” I said.
    â€œJust eat your lunch first,” said Mom. “If you’re still hungry, you can see if they have something at the ballpark that’s halfway good for you.”
    â€œAll right.”
    â€œHave fun and work hard,” Mom said. She planted a smooch on top of my head. I was glad Abby had waited outside.
    â€¢ • •
    Abby and I walked six blocks, crossed a field, waited for one traffic light, crossed the street, and turned the corner.
    We stopped.
    â€œHoly cow!” said Abby.
    There were about a billion people crowded around Pine City Park.
    â€œThere are always lines on bobblehead day,” I told her.
    â€œBut the game doesn’t even start for two hours!”
    â€œThey’re
Spike
bobbleheads,” I reminded her. Spike was the Porcupines’ new junior mascot. He was the biggest star of the season. Everybody loved that quill-covered porcupine kid. “Not everyone will get one,” I added. “They’re ‘only available while supplies last.’”
    â€œThey must really want those bobbleheads,” said Abby. We both knew something most people didn’t: Abby was Spike. She put on a porcupine costume and played the part. She was great at it.
    We started across the parking lot.
    â€œDad!” a little girl tugged on her father’s shirttail. “Those kids are cutting!”
    â€œHey, what’s the big idea?” the man asked.
    â€œWe’re with the Pines,” I said. “I’m a