For Byron, who is more fun than a Whipper Whirl
—K.S.
For Shel
—E.B.
Three hundred and fifty-six days out of the year, there's no place I'd rather be than at a baseball game. That's why I'm really lucky to work as a batboy for a minor league team. It was my second season with the Pine City Porcupines, and it's the best job a kid can have.
The other nine days a year there is one place, and only one place, that I would rather be: the state fair.
A baseball game can go back and forth, up and down. The state fair has the Whipper Whirl, a ride that whips you one way and whirls you the other, at five hundred miles an hour.
Baseball has corn dogs and waffle fries and cotton candy and soda pop. The state fair has all of that plus cheeseburger wontons, deep-fried pickles on a stick, bacon-butterscotch mini-doughnuts, and a thousand other things you didn't know even existed until you saw them at the fair.
Baseball has the crowd singing "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" in the middle of the seventh inning. The state fair has a parade every morning, right after the gates open, with a marching band and a long line of convertibles, old trucks, and horse and buggies.
Don't get me wrong. Baseball is still my favorite thing in the world, almost all of the time. But baseball goes for the entire summer. The state fair only lasts nine days.
And this year, I was going to miss all nine of them. We were spending a few days at Grandma's, and when we got back, I had to work for the Porcupines.
…
On the first day of the state fair, I was on an airplane to Arizona with my mom and dad. We were flying to Tucson to visit my grandmother.
"Why don't we go see Grandma at Christmas?" I asked.
"Because she'll be coming to visit in December," said Dad. "She wants a white Christmas, and it rarely snows in Tucson."
"So why did she move there if she wanted snow?"
"Because she was sick of cold weather," Dad explained.
"Hmm." It sounded to me like Grandma wanted to have it both ways.
"Aren't you excited about seeing your grandmother?" Mom asked.
"Sure, but we're missing the state fair," I said.
"You'll still have fun," said Dad. "Grandma's having a party!"
…
She did have a party. Grandma's friends were nice, but they were old. They talked about gardens and golf and grandchildren. It was so hot outside that we stayed cooped up inside with the air-conditioning on full blast. I got cold and had to put on a sweater. I hadn't packed a sweater, so I had to wear one of Grandma's sweaters. It was pink and said "Life Begins at Sixty." Instead of normal party games, Grandma and her friends tried to teach me whist. The cake had carrots in it. I wish I were kidding!
Grandma's next-door neighbor was named Hal. He was even older than Grandma.
"So, I hear you collect baseball cards," Hal said.
"Yeah! I have thousands of cards," I told him. I didn't tell him the cards were magic. The Pine City Porcupines think they are, anyway. Players have done amazing things when they have the right card from my collection. Our jinxed shortstop turned a triple play all by himself. The slowest player on the team stole second base. I think the cards just remind them that in baseball anything is possible.
"As it happens, I have a card in need of a collection," Hal said. He took one out of his breast pocket and handed it to me.
It was a card for an umpire named Eric Gregg. It was signed and everything.
"Thanks," I said. "I know I don't have this one. How did you get it?" It was a weird card to have if you only had one baseball card.
"I coached Eric as a kid back in Philly," Hal replied. "He sure loved to play, and he ended up being an umpire. Anyway, he visited me once and gave me this card."
"Wow. Why don't you want to keep it?"
"I want to give it to someone who will take good care of it," said Hal. "When your grandmother told me about your collection, I knew you should have it."
It was a neat card.
If umpires could have cards, maybe one day a batboy could have one.
…
The first thing I did when I got back home was go to Dylan's house. He's the other batboy for the Pines, and he took care of our dog while we were gone.
"It was fun having Penny here," he told me. "I'm going to miss her." Penny nuzzled Dylan's hand and licked his palm. She barely noticed I was there. Dylan loved animals, and they loved him.
"How was the fair?" I asked him. "Did you see all the animals?" I figured that would have been his favorite part. The fair has buildings full of cows, sheep, pigs, chickens, and rabbits. They even have ostriches and llamas.
"I sure did," said Dylan. "The best part was this horse named Einstein II. He played tic-tac-toe, and bowled, and counted to ten. He must be the world's smartest horse."
"You're not getting a horse!" Dylan's mother hollered from inside the house.
"I know!" he called back. "I never said I wanted a horse," Dylan said to me, "but I guess I've been talking a lot about Einstein II."
"You still have three rabbits," I reminded him.
"Rabbits don't do tricks. At least, mine don't." Dylan shrugged. "Oh, well. See you at work."
I walked Penny home through the park. She loves the park, because there's so much to sniff and bark at.
I ran into two friends from school, Oscar and Ivan.
"How many times did you go on the Whipper Whirl?" Oscar asked Ivan.
"Ten times," Ivan answered.
"Well, I went on it eleven times," said Oscar.
"I meant, twelve times," said Ivan. "Hey, Chad. How many times did you go on the Whipper Whirl?"
"None. I haven't been to the fair this year."
"Wow," said Oscar. "You really need to go and ride the Whipper Whirl."
"Oh, oh, oh! And you have to try the strawberry-rhubarb French toast sundae," said Ivan.
"With marshmallows and chocolate chips," added Oscar.
"And whipped cream," said Ivan.
"And real maple syrup!" they shouted together.
"It's the most amazing thing in the history of food," said Ivan. "I ate two of them."
"I had three," said Oscar.
"That sounds really good," I told them, "but there are Porcupine games every day until the fair is over. I have to work." The fair was in a town that was ninety minutes away by car, so there wouldn't be time to get there and back before Friday's night game. Besides, I'd be way too tired to work.
"Too bad," said Oscar. "I'm going back on Saturday. I'm going to ride on the Whipper Whirl fifteen times and eat four strawberry-rhubarb French toast sundaes."
"I'm going to ride on the Whipper Whirl twenty times and eat five sundaes," said Ivan.
"Have fun," I told them, but I was jealous. I would have settled for one ride and one sundae.
