The Wrigley Riddle

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2013 by David A. Kelly

  Cover art and interior illustrations copyright © 2013 by Mark Meyers

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

  Random House and the colophon are registered trademarks and A Stepping Stone Book and the colophon are trademarks of Random House, Inc.

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  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Kelly, David A. (David Andrew)

  The Wrigley riddle / by David A. Kelly; illustrated by Mark Meyers. — 1st ed.

  p. cm. — (Ballpark mysteries; 6)

  “A Stepping Stone Book.”

  Summary: During a visit to the Chicago Cubs’ Wrigley Field, cousins Mike and Kate investigate why someone has been tampering with the famous ivy vines growing on the outfield walls. Includes historical note.

  eISBN: 978-0-307-97778-6

  [1. Baseball—Fiction. 2. Cousins—Fiction. 3. Buried treasure—Fiction. 4. Wrigley Field (Chicago, Ill.)—Fiction. 5. Chicago (Ill.)—Fiction. 6. Mystery and detective stories.]

  I. Meyers, Mark, ill. II. Title.

  PZ7.K2936Wri 2013 [Fic]—dc23 2012010244

  Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.

  v3.1

  To Zack Hample, author of The Baseball and the best ballhawk I know—6,413 balls and counting —D.A.K.

  To Aaron, Kati, and family. Thanks for the inspiration and for showing me what a pencil can do. —M.M.

  “It’s a great day for a ball game; let’s play two.”

  —Ernie “Mr. Cub” Banks, Chicago Cubs shortstop

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1 Trouble with Ivy

  Chapter 2 Ballhawks!

  Chapter 3 Bleacher Bums

  Chapter 4 Caught Green-Handed!

  Chapter 5 The Ivy Thief

  Chapter 6 Mike’s Big Idea

  Chapter 7 A Ring of Gum

  Chapter 8 Two Home Runs

  Dugout Notes Wrigley Field

  Trouble with Ivy

  “Heads up!” Mike Walsh called from the top of Wrigley Field’s bleacher seats. His cousin Kate Hopkins stood at the bottom, near the first row. It was three hours before the game, so the stadium was mostly empty.

  Mike fired a fastball down to Kate. She reached up to catch it, but the throw was high. The ball sailed straight into the outfield.

  “Oh no!” Kate cried.

  THWAP! The ball bounced off the foot of Louie Lopez, the Chicago Cubs’ star center fielder.

  “¡Huy!” Louie exclaimed. “What’s that?”

  Mike’s freckled face blushed. “Sorry!” he called out. “I was playing catch with my cousin. I threw the ball a little too high.” Mike ran down the steps to where Kate stood by the short green wall that overlooked the outfield.

  Louie shook his head. “More like a lot too high,” he said with a smile. “I know our fans like to throw the other team’s home runs back. But this is the first time I’ve seen a fan throw his own ball onto the field.”

  “I guess I’m stronger than I knew,” Mike said. He flexed his muscles, pretending to be a muscleman.

  Kate rolled her eyes. “It’s not about strength,” she said. “You’re not going to make the major leagues if you can’t aim better!”

  Mike ignored her. He leaned over the outfield wall. Dark green ivy leaves covered the entire side. “Where did it go?” he asked Kate.

  Kate shrugged. “Into the ivy, I think.”

  “Aunt Laura, can we come get my baseball?” he asked Kate’s mom.

  Mrs. Hopkins was standing in center field with Louie Lopez. Her short curly hair poked out from under a blue Cooperstown baseball cap. She wore a black messenger bag over her shoulder and scribbled notes on a pad.

  “Not right now. I have to finish interviewing Louie by the time batting practice starts,” Kate’s mother said. “You can get the ball when I’m done.”

  Kate’s mom was a reporter for the website American Sportz. She was writing a story on Louie Lopez and the Cubs’ recent winning streak. Mike, Kate, and Mrs. Hopkins had taken a train to Chicago from Cooperstown, New York, the day before. Mike and Kate lived down the street from each other in Cooperstown, near the Baseball Hall of Fame. They went to games with Kate’s mom whenever they could.

  “Cool!” Mike said. “Hey, Kate, did you notice the scoreboard yet?” He pointed to the scoreboard. It was wedged into the back corner of the park, towering over rows of bleacher seats.

  “It’s huge,” Mike said. “I read that no one’s ever hit a home run into it.”

  “They haven’t!” said a voice.

  Kate and Mike turned to see a man walking down the bleacher steps. He had a short black crew cut and wore a shiny blue Cubs warm-up jacket.

  “I’m Paul Thomas, media director for the Cubs. Your mom wanted me to say hello,” he said. “Mike’s right. No home run has hit the scoreboard yet. But we get plenty of balls that disappear into the ivy down there.”

  “It’s kind of weird that a baseball park has ivy growing all over the outfield wall,” Kate said. “Doesn’t it mess up the players?”

  “Our players love the ivy. Wrigley Field just wouldn’t be the same without it,” Mr. Thomas said. “P. K. Wrigley had the ivy planted and the scoreboard built in 1937. His family owned the Chicago Cubs. They also owned a big chewing gum company. That’s why Wrigley Field has the same name as the gum.”

  “Then why don’t home runs stick to the scoreboard?” Mike asked. He winked at Kate. “Get it? Gum. Stick?”

  “Ouch! That’s bad,” Mr. Thomas said. “You’ll have to let me chew on that for a while.…”

  Kate groaned.

  “Okay, enough.” Mr. Thomas held up his hands in surrender. “Your mother’s almost done with her Louie Lopez interview. I’ll take you to the field.”

  Kate and Mike followed Mr. Thomas down some stairs to a hallway under the bleachers. The gates had opened and fans were starting to come in. They passed a food cart and turned into a long, narrow room filled with shovels, grass seed, and chalk.

  “What’s this room for?” Kate asked.

  “It’s the groundskeepers’ room,” Mr. Thomas said. “Maybe you’ll meet Mr. Lee later.”

  On the other side of the room, Mr. Thomas led them through a door onto the grassy outfield.

  “Wow, Kate! Look at this!” Mike cried.

  Wrigley Field spread out before them like a ballpark from a postcard. Two green ribbons of seats wrapped around the field, from first base to third. The famous ivy-covered outfield wall rose up just behind where they stood. Beyond the wall were the bleacher seats. The giant green-and-white scoreboard rose from the pyramid of bleachers. Here and there, workers were setting up for the day’s game.

  Louie Lopez waved them over. “I know you can use some work on throwing, but are you any good at hitting?” he asked Mike.

  “You bet I am,” Mike said, nodding. “I hit a double in Little League last week.”

  “Well, how about you and Kate stop by the batting cage under the bleachers tomorrow morning. I need to work on my swing to keep our eleven-game winning streak alive,” Louie said. “But I can let you two take some swings as well.”

  “Sounds great!” Kate said. “I’ll bet I hit more than Mike does!”

  “No way,” Mike replied. “But if you do, I’ll hit them farther!”

  “We’ll see about that,” Kate said. Then she thanked Louie, saying, “Muchas gracias, Señor Lopez.” Kate was teaching herself Spanish. She tried to speak it whenever she had a chance.

  “Call me Louie,” he said. He tipped his cap to Kate, Mike, and Mrs. Hopkins and sauntered off the field.

  Mrs. Hopkins put away her notepad and checked her watch. “I have to head back to the pressroom,” she said. “You two want to come?”

  “Wait! I need to find my baseball,” Mike said. He jogged over to the right-field wall. “I know it’s here somewhere.”

  “You’re looking in the wrong spot,” Kate called. She went to the center of the wall and scanned the area for Mike’s shiny white baseball. “I think it’s over here.”

  The outfield wall was about twelve feet high and ran from one side of the park to the other. It was covered top to bottom in leafy green ivy vines. The vines were so thick Kate could make her hand disappear into them. She pushed the ivy near the ground aside with her sneaker. No baseball.

  Kate moved a few feet over. Again, she nudged the ivy back with her foot. This time her toe hit something that moved. She leaned down. It was Mike’s baseball!

  As Kate straightened up to show Mike the ball, she noticed a big red square on the wall.

  “Mike! Mom! Come here quick,” she said. “Someone’s ripped out the ivy!”

  Ballhawks!

  Mike, Mr. Thomas, and Mrs. Hopkins ran over to Kate. Ivy blanketed the wall in front of her. But halfway up the wall was an empty spot. No ivy. Just a
square of red brick.

  “Oh no!” Mr. Thomas grabbed his forehead. “Not again! That’s the third time this week.”

  He leaned over to examine the missing ivy. Someone had neatly clipped away a section of ivy about the size of a baseball glove. The brick wall behind looked like it had been scratched with some type of sharp tool.

  Mrs. Hopkins took out her notepad. “What’s going on? Who’s stealing the ivy?” she asked.

  Mr. Thomas shook his head. “I wish I knew. Those scratches make it seem like someone’s looking for something,” he said. “We’ve been using green spray paint and extra ivy strands to cover the missing spots. The players are worried it will ruin the Cubs’ winning streak if it keeps happening. They get pretty superstitious about things like this.”

  Mrs. Hopkins flipped her notepad shut. “I’ve got to get back to the pressroom before the game starts,” she said. She handed Kate two tickets. “Here are your tickets. You’re sitting just over there, in the right-field bleachers. Mr. Thomas can show you.”

  Kate’s mom waved goodbye. Mr. Thomas led Kate and Mike off the field. They ducked through the door in the outfield wall back to the groundskeepers’ room. As he walked, Mike tossed his baseball in an arc in front of him and rushed to catch it. Each time he tried to throw it farther without dropping it.

  “Watch this,” Mike called to Kate. He tried to toss the baseball in front of him, but it slipped out of his hand. The ball bounced off a workbench.

  “Nice one!” Kate said. “Too bad Louie can’t help you with your throws!”

  As Mike was getting his ball, two men and a woman came into the room from the hallway. The men both had on blue jeans and work boots, but one looked older than the other. The woman had shoulder-length blond hair, and she was wearing a blue Cubs baseball cap and carrying a black backpack.

  “Mike and Kate, this is Michael Lee, head groundskeeper,” Mr. Thomas said, introducing the older man. “And that’s Victor Crumly, his assistant, and Sarah Sampson. She’s a college student writing a paper on the history of Wrigley Field.”

  Sarah and Mr. Lee waved at Kate and Mike. Victor simply nodded and started arranging tools on a nearby workbench.

  “Welcome to the root of Wrigley Field,” Mr. Lee said. “This is where we take care of things from the grounds up!”

  Mr. Thomas rolled his eyes.

  Sarah groaned. She pulled a clipboard from her backpack. “That’s so bad I’ll have to include it in my Wrigley Field history project.”

  Mr. Lee snickered a little. “Okay, those puns weren’t good, but this is where we store all the things we use to take care of the grass,” he said, “and the ivy.”

  “The ivy?” Mike asked. “Kate just found a spot of missing ivy!”

  Over by the workbench there was a metallic clattering as something hit the floor. Everyone swiveled to see the source of the sound.

  A pair of garden clippers lay on the floor in front of Victor’s feet.

  “Ah, shoot,” Victor said. “Slipped out of my hand.”

  As Victor bent down to pick them up, his flannel shirt fell open, revealing the T-shirt beneath it. He fumbled around on the floor for the clippers.

  Mike’s eyes grew wide. He elbowed Kate. “Quick, check out Victor’s shirt!” he whispered.

  “It’s a Chicago White Sox shirt!” she whispered back. “Why’s he wearing that? They’re the Cubs’ biggest rivals!”

  Mike nodded. “And did you see the way he dropped the clippers when I said the word ivy?”

  Victor finally grabbed the clippers and straightened up. “Should we go check on the missing ivy, Mr. Lee?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Mr. Lee said. “Let’s do it now, before batting practice.” He tipped his Cubs hat toward Mike and Kate. “Have a good time at the game today!”

  After they disappeared through the door, Sarah shook her head. “I can’t believe you let a Chicago White Sox fan work on the Cubs’ grounds crew,” she said to Mr. Thomas. “What if he’s the one ripping out the ivy?”

  Mr. Thomas shrugged. “Mr. Lee trusts him, so I do, too,” he said. “Anyway, we should get going. See you later, Sarah.”

  Mr. Thomas led Mike and Kate out into the crowded hallway under the bleachers. “You know, batting practice starts in a few minutes. You should take the chance to see the ballhawks outside the stadium. It’s a lot of fun.”

  Mike’s eyes opened wide. “What’s a ballhawk?” he asked. He held up his hands, curled his fingers, and slashed at the air. “That sounds like a giant bird with big claws!”

  Mr. Thomas laughed. “Not quite. Ballhawks are fans who are really good at catching balls,” he said. He opened a door to the street. “See for yourself. Just head over there. You can use your tickets to come back in when you’re done.”

  Mike and Kate thanked him and walked across a blocked-off city street. Fans streamed into the stadium. But a few dozen fans stood on the other side of the street, staring back at Wrigley Field.

  “They must be the ballhawks,” Kate said. She looked over her shoulder at the outside brick wall of Wrigley Field. Above the wall was the top of the left-field bleachers.

  Just then, a ball sailed overhead. It bounced off the sidewalk and over the heads of the fans. The ballhawks made a mad scramble for it.

  “I’ll bet they’re trying to catch home runs that get hit over the wall!” Kate said.

  “Let’s give it a try!” Mike said. “It would be so cool to catch a Wrigley Field baseball!”

  Kate and Mike turned to face the stadium. They crouched down, ready to run in any direction. They didn’t have to wait too long.

  “Here comes one,” someone called.

  Kate and Mike scanned the blue sky over the bleachers for the ball. They spied it as it lofted high over the seats.

  “There it is!” Mike cried. He ran past a trash can on the corner and down a side street, trying to guess where the ball would drop. Kate followed. She positioned herself about ten feet in front of Mike.

  The ball landed right between them. THWACK! It shot off the pavement and bounced over Mike’s head. A scrum of fans chased it down the street. Finally, a heavyset man in a green T-shirt and shorts held the ball high above his head.

  “Wow, this is hard,” Mike said. “Those balls come down really fast. I wish I’d brought my glove.”

  “There’s another one,” Kate said.

  The ball dropped through the leafy branches of a tree. Mike was just about to snag it when he plowed into a man in a blue shirt and sneakers.

  “Ummph!” the man grunted.

  The ball bounced off the man’s baseball glove. It landed ten feet farther down the road, where a little boy grabbed it.

  “Sorry!” Mike said. “You would have had it if I hadn’t knocked into you. If I catch one, I’ll give it to you.”

  The man waved his hand. “Thanks, but it only counts if I catch it myself,” he said in a gravelly voice. “Besides, I have over four thousand of them at home.”

  “Four thousand baseballs?” Kate asked. “For real?”

  “Catching thousands of balls isn’t that unusual for ballhawks,” the man said. “I know a lot of ballhawks who have caught over three thousand balls at batting practices and baseball games! Wrigley Field is great because so many balls fly over the bleachers onto Waveland Avenue. We can come to every game and catch balls without even buying a ticket.”

  “Cool!” Mike said. “I’m Mike and this is Kate. You have any tips for us?”

  “Nice to meet you,” the man said. “I’m Zack Hampton. The first tip is to pay attention to the fans inside the stadium. You can tell where the ball is going by watching which way they look.”

  For the next hour, Mike and Kate tried their best to be ballhawks. They chased one ball after another until Mike finally caught one on a bounce. When Kate snagged a ball a few minutes later that flew into a tree trunk, Zack cheered for her. Meanwhile Zack caught three.

  A short time later, batting practice ended. Most fans started moving to the stadium gates.

  “Got the tickets?” Mike asked Kate.

  Kate pulled out the two tickets her mother had given her.

  “Thanks for all the help,” she said to Zack. “It was great learning how to ballhawk. Too bad you can’t give us some help on the missing ivy.”

  “Oh, the missing ivy,” Zack said. He leaned back on his heels and folded his arms across his chest. “People have been talking about that all week. They’re worried it will ruin the Cubs’ winning streak. It’s bad luck when you have strange things happening on your home field.”