Free The Fenway Foul-Up by David A. Kelly Page B

still want to see what’s going on. Can we check it out, Mom?”
    “Sure. Your seats are next to the dugout. I’ve got to stay here to work on my column.” Mrs. Hopkins handed Kate a twenty-dollar bill. “Don’t let Mike spend it all on souvenirs,” she joked.
    Kate pocketed the money. As they were about to leave, the pressroom door opened and a man walked in.
    It was the photographer from batting practice. He had his camera bag and tripod case slung over his shoulder. A water bottlepoked out of one of the big pockets in his jacket.
    “Just dropping off my tripod,” the photographer said. “You’re lucky you don’t have to lug all this gear around.”
    He dropped the camera bag and tripod case to the carpet with a grunt. Then he rummaged around in one of his jacket pockets and pulled out a bag of sunflower seeds. He poured a few of the black and tan seeds into his mouth.
    Mrs. Hopkins smiled. “Try lugging a computer, some reference books, and a pile of research papers around! That’s not easy, either,” she said.
    “I guess everybody thinks their job is hard,” said the man. “It sure would be nice to be rich. Maybe I’ll win the lottery soon.”
    The photographer slid the long blacktripod case under a table and poured himself a cup of coffee.
    Mike turned to watch the batboy talk to a security guard. The second security guard searched the sides of the field and the box where the photographers sat. Kate gave Mike’s arm a tug and pulled him toward the door.
    “Thanks for the money, Mom,” Kate said. “We’ll catch you after the game.”
    Ten minutes later, Mike and Kate were sitting in their seats, eating hot dogs and popcorn. They were only a few rows away from the Boston dugout. On the field, the Oakland A’s were still taking batting practice.
    “Awesome seats, Kate!” Mike said. “Your mom got great tickets. I owe her a few car washes.”
    “Great idea,” said Kate. “She’d love that.”
    Swish!
The Oakland player at the plate swung and missed.
    “Hey, there’s the batboy,” said Mike. He shaded his eyes against the April sun and pointed at the dugout. “Doesn’t he seem a little old?”
    The batboy wore a bright white Red Sox uniform and a baseball cap pulled low over his forehead. He kept glancing back over his shoulder and scanning the stands.
    “I read that you have to be at least fourteen to be a major-league batboy. He looks older,” Kate said.
    She motioned for Mike to lean in close to her. “He does seem a little shifty,” she whispered. “Think we should try to ask him a few questions and see what he does?”
    “Always thinking like a reporter, aren’t you?” said Mike.

    “Well,
you
said he looked old,” Kate replied.
    “I may be suspicious, but you’re nosy,” Mike teased.
    “I’m not,” Kate said. “I just like to know what’s going on.”
    She fished around in her popcorn for the most buttery pieces. Finding one, she popped it into her mouth. “What do you say?” Kate asked. She dug through the popcorn for another buttery piece. “Should we go talk to him?”
    “Uh, I don’t know,” said Mike. “It seems like he might want to talk to
us
instead.”
    Kate looked up from her popcorn. The batboy was staring straight at them!
    For a moment, Kate was startled. Then she relaxed. She shook her head. “Actually, I think he’s watching that guy in front of us,”she said. “And I can see why. Doesn’t the guy know that the Yankees are Boston’s biggest rivals?”
    The white-haired man sitting in front of Kate and Mike wore a New York Yankees baseball cap.
    “But he’s also wearing a Red Sox shirt,” Mike said. “I guess he’s confused. Or maybe he just likes both teams.”
    Out on the mound, one of Oakland’s coaches wound up and threw a fastball.
    The batter swung at the pitch.
POW!
The ball flew into left field. Even the coach turned around to watch it.
TONK!
The ball bounced off the Green Monster.
    “Awesome hit,” Mike said. “In any