The L.A. Dodger (4 page)

Mike gave Kate’s elbow a tug. “Come on, let’s look for the stairs,” he said. Down the hall, they found a stairway. Mike and Kate hustled up the stairs until they came to the next level.

Mike took off to the right, on the third-base side. He was halfway down the hall when he heard Kate call out, “Wait! We’re on the wrong floor!”

Mike stopped and turned around. Kate was pointing to the rows of seats on their right side. “Look at the color of those seats. They’re light blue. We need to go up another level to the dark blue seats!”

They took the steps two at a time until they reached the top level. They shot out of the stairway and along the top deck of the stadium to the aisle where they had seen the man.

Kate skidded to a stop. “He’s gone!” she panted. Mike pulled up right next to her. He
looked down the aisle to the railing overlooking the field. All the seats were empty. No one was standing in the aisle. The man with the binoculars had vanished.

“We missed him,” Kate said. She stamped her foot on the concrete step. “Drat! I thought we had him. Let’s get down to the field before
my father notices we’re gone. Don’t say anything about this to him. I don’t want him to worry.”

Mike and Kate made it back to the dugout just as Kate’s dad and Tommy were finishing their conversation.

“There you two are,” Mr. Hopkins said. “What do you say we do some sightseeing? I know a good place to start—Hollywood.”

Kate and Mike exchanged a glance. Obviously her father hadn’t noticed the man with the binoculars.

“That sounds great,” Kate said. “Hollywood. We can look for movie stars.”

After leaving the ballpark, they drove for about twenty minutes to Hollywood Boulevard. Mr. Hopkins parked the car on the street, and they walked to Grauman’s Chinese Theatre.

The building was shaped like a large Chinese pagoda. “What’s so special about Grauman’s?” Mike asked. “Do they show only Chinese films or something?”

“Maybe if you had read my
guidebook
instead of that
baseball
book, you’d know,” Kate said with a smile. “It’s actually just a movie theater from the 1920s. They built it in a Chinese style to make it seem special. But what’s really important is the sidewalk. Look.”

Kate pointed to the ground. Underneath their feet were slabs of gray cement.

Mike wasn’t sure what he was supposed to see. And then he noticed handprints and footprints pressed into the cement. All around them were names scrawled in concrete.

“There’s Darth Vader from
Star Wars
,” Mike cried. “And Donald Duck!”

Soon, Mike and Kate were both running around the courtyard, reading off the names of famous movie stars. Kate took pictures of Mike placing his hands into the handprints of Tom Hanks. Mike took pictures of Kate testing her shoe size against Julie Andrews’s footprints. Then he took a picture of Kate and her father in front of the theater.

After they had checked out all the prints, Mr. Hopkins drove them to nearby Griffith Park.

“There’s a hiking trail that leads up to the Griffith Park Observatory,” he said as they got out of the car. “At night you can see the planets through the observatory’s telescope. But during the day it has a great view of L.A.”

Leaving the parking lot, Mike, Kate, and Mr. Hopkins hiked across a small stream and followed a dirt trail uphill. The trail wound past trees, rocks, and picnic areas.

“Okay, kids, I’ve got a riddle about the Dodgers,” Mr. Hopkins said while they walked. “What’s something that only the Dodgers once had, but now all major-league teams have, too?”

“The dugout!” Mike shouted.

“No, not quite,” Kate’s dad replied.

Kate loved trivia questions. She bit her lip and tried to recall the ballpark tour that morning.

Mike pulled the baseball from his sweatshirt pocket. He tossed it in the air with his right hand while he thought. Then he remembered seeing retired numbers under the roof of the outfield seats.

“Forty-two!” Mike shouted.

“What?” Kate said. “Forty-two?”

Mr. Hopkins smiled. “That’s right, Mike! You got it. Number forty-two was Jackie Robinson’s number. He was the first African American player in the major leagues. He played for the Brooklyn Dodgers starting in 1947. The Dodgers retired his number in 1972. In 1997, all the other major-league teams retired it, too, to honor him.”

“Shoot,” said Kate, who hated to lose any competition. She kicked a small stone off the path. “That wasn’t fair. Mike read that entire book about the Dodgers.”

“But you took the tour this morning,” Mr. Hopkins said. “The guide talked about Jackie Robinson and number forty-two, so you knew the answer as well. Mike was just faster.”

“Well, let’s do another question,” Kate insisted. “Double or nothing, Mike!”

“Not right now,” Mr. Hopkins said. “Maybe we can have round two another time.”

About halfway up, the trail to the observatory split. To the left was a steep, rocky shortcut that wound through some scrubs. To the right was a smoother, easier trail. Taking the lead to prove she could beat Mike, Kate scrambled up the steep trail. Mike made it up a minute later, huffing and puffing. Kate’s father followed. All three stopped at the top to catch their breath. Kate was about to pull out her camera and take a picture when she heard rocks go tumbling down the trail.

“What was that?” Mike asked.

“I don’t know,” Kate’s father said. “I don’t see anyone.”

“It could be a mountain lion,” Kate said. “I read about them in the guidebook. There are loads of them in the hills around L.A.!”

“Mountain lions?” Mike asked. “Here?” He bared his teeth and snarled at Kate. Then he reached out and made a pawing motion at her.
“Rrrrrrrrrrrr …”

Kate swatted him away. “Oh, stop kidding around,” she said.

Another short hike took them to the green grass in front of the Griffith Observatory. From there they could see the craggy green and brown folds of the Hollywood Hills.

“There’s the famous Hollywood sign!” Kate called out. She pointed to the left. Large white letters, as tall as a house, stood on the hill. They spelled
HOLLYWOOD
.

Mike took a picture of Kate and her father, with the sign in the background. Then he hung out on the grass while Kate took a few more pictures. Her father went to get a drink from the water fountain near the snack bar.

Kate flopped down on the grass next to Mike. She turned over her digital camera and started reviewing the pictures they’d taken that day.

After a minute, she nudged Mike. “You’ll never believe this,” she said. “That man we saw this morning with the binoculars is in a bunch of our pictures!”

Mike leaned over to study Kate’s pictures.

“Look in the back, behind the palm tree,” Kate said, showing Mike a picture from the park that morning. “See the man in the blue baseball cap? The guy turning sideways? It looks like he’s trying to hide his face!”

Kate went to a shot from Grauman’s Chinese Theatre. It was a photo of Mike. But behind him was a man in a white shirt bending down.

Kate pushed the forward button on the camera again. She came to a picture that Mike had taken just a few minutes ago. The picture showed Kate and her father with the Hollywood sign. In the background, Mike could see a figure dressed in tan pants, a white shirt, and a blue baseball cap. He was ducking out of the picture.

“Hey! We saw him at the airport, too, remember?” Mike said.

“You’re right, when we were looking for movie stars!” Kate said. “That was just before my notebook was stolen. I’ll bet he took it!”

“He sure looks suspicious. He’s always trying to dodge out of the picture,” Mike said.

“Dodging out of the way. Ha! That’s it! He’s the L.A. Dodger!” Kate cried. “I bet he’s the one causing problems for my dad. Maybe he’s still here.”

Mike and Kate looked around for the Dodger. Families picnicked on the grass. Couples walked toward the parking lot. But there was no sign of a man in a white shirt and tan pants.

“I don’t see him,” Kate said. “He must be here somewhere, though. He’s been following us all day.”

“What do you think he wants?” Mike asked.

“It’s got to be Dad’s scouting notebook,” Kate said. “The Dodger must be trying to hurt the team for some reason. He probably stole the notebooks and cell phone from the coaches. And he told my father to leave his job. Without my dad, the Dodgers might not be able to sign any good new players.”

Mike put his finger up to his lips. Kate’s dad was returning. Mike and Kate jumped up and headed back to the car with Mr. Hopkins.
Along the trail to the car, Kate and Mike looked for signs of the L.A. Dodger. But they didn’t see any. On the way back to Mr. Hopkins’s apartment, Mike stared out the back window. He was hoping to spot a car following them. But again, he saw nothing.

The sun was going down when they pulled into the garage at Mr. Hopkins’s apartment. A cool breeze blew in from the ocean.

They ate dinner at a restaurant named Big Steaks. It had an outdoor patio with a colorful awning and lots of flowers.

“I feel like the Dodger is watching us,” Mike whispered to Kate halfway through dinner.

“I know, but I don’t see him anywhere,” Kate replied. “Maybe he’s taking some time off to eat, too!”

After dinner, Kate, Mike, and Kate’s dad walked to the pier to try the rides.

The lights were just coming on when they reached the bumper cars. Mike handed the attendant their ride tickets and scrambled into car number three. Kate grabbed car number seven and buckled herself in.

The buzzer sounded, and the ride started. Kate rammed her car straight into Mike’s. A sharp metallic smell filled the air. Small sparks flew from the top of the power poles at the back of the cars as Kate and Mike chased each other around the oval course. Mike had just chased Kate down when the cars slid to a stop.

“Not fast enough to catch up to me, are you?” Kate taunted Mike. She jumped out of her car and ran back to her father. Just as Mike reached them, a flash of pink caught his eye.

“Cotton candy!” Mike cried. He pointed to a small stand on the other side of the pier. “Can I have some? I saved room for dessert.”