Never Say Genius by Dan Gutman Read Free Book Online

distinctive ivy-covered outfield walls.
    Wrigley Field felt like a sanctuary to Coke and Pep.
    Here, for a change, they could forget their troubles—lunatics in bowler hats, evil health teachers, maniacal teenagers who resembled comic-book characters—for a few hours at least.
    The ballpark was packed. The visiting team was the St. Louis Cardinals, longtime rivals of the Cubs. The crowd went wild when the Cubs scored a couple of runs in the second inning. When the Cards tied it up in the third, boos rained down on the field.
    When that inning was over, Dr. McDonald told the kids to look at the video screen below the scoreboard. This message was flashing:
HAPPY 13 TH BIRTHDAY YESTERDAY
TO COKE AND PEP McDONALD!
     
    Then, next to those words, the “Fan Cam” box appeared and there was a video image of Coke and Pep. When they saw themselves on the screen, they smiled and waved. Everybody cheered.
    “How did they know it was our birthday?” Pep said excitedly.
    “I called ahead,” Dr. McDonald said.
    “Isn’t that expensive, Dad?” Coke asked.
    “Don’t worry about it,” Dr. McDonald replied. “One of my old college buddies works for the Cubs.”
    The message flashed several more times, and then the screen faded to black. A few seconds later, it was replaced by this message:

     
    Everyone stared at the video screen, confused.
    “Huh?” said Dr. McDonald. “I wonder what that means.”
    “Hey, check it out!” somebody a few rows behind them hollered. “The guy running the video screen musta had too many beers!”
    Coke squinted at the message and looked over at his sister quizzically.
    “It looks like a cipher,” Pep whispered in his ear so their father would not hear.
    “What does it mean?” Coke whispered back.
    “How should I know?”
    “Well, you’re the queen of the ciphers,” Coke whispered. “You’re supposed to be good at this stuff.”
    “This stuff takes time,” Pep told him.
    The message disappeared from the screen and was replaced by an ad for a Chicago pizza parlor. Luckily, Coke had gazed at it long enough to burn the symbols into his memory.
    “Somebody knows we’re here,” Pep whispered nervously to her brother. “We need to go.”
    “Dad, can we leave?” Coke asked.
    “Leave?” he replied. “It’s only the top of the fourth inning! Let’s at least stay until the seventh inning stretch.”
    “Okay,” the twins grumbled.
    For the next two innings, Coke and Pep had little interest in watching the ball game. They were too busy scanning the crowd, looking out for guys with bowler hats, evil health teachers, Archie Clones, or perhaps even Dr. Herman Warsaw. Their names and faces had been up on the video screen. There was no telling who might be watching them through binoculars from some distant point in the ballpark—or what that person might be planning. They were strangely quiet while eating hot dogs their father bought from a vendor.
    The Cardinals scored three runs in the fifth, and the mood of the crowd was turning sour. There’s nothing more dangerous than an angry Cubs fan. You would think that after a hundred years without winning a World Series, they would get used to losing ball games. But they never do.
    It was 6–2 at the end of the sixth inning, when a female usher came over to their row and tapped Coke and Pep on their shoulders. They both jumped.
    “Would you two come with me, please?” the usher said sweetly. “We have something special for you.”
    Pep looked at her father, terrified. Surely he would protect them.
    “Go ahead,” Dr. McDonald said, a big smile on his face. “This is part of your birthday present too. Have fun.”
    The twins got up and followed the usher up the steps and through a doorway. There was a tunnel there that led to the press boxes.
    “What’s this all about?” Coke asked.
    “Nobody told you?” said the usher. “You’re in for a treat. Your dad must know somebody pretty important. They don’t let just anybody lead