Satch & Me by Dan Gutman

Josh Gibson.
    â€œI guess we just love playin’ ball,” he said.
    Flip motioned again that we should go. We got off the bus and the driver gunned the engine. Before the bus pulled away, Josh Gibson came out and shook Flip’s hand again.
    â€œThank you kindly for the food,” he said.
    â€œFuhgetaboutit,” Flip replied. “Hey, you think Satch and the Monarchs will be passing through this way?”
    â€œSooner or later,” Josh said, “most everybody comes this way.”
    He climbed back inside the bus and it pulled away.
    Â 
    Flip and I watched until the bus disappeared down the road.
    â€œI guess we’ve got to get to Pittsburgh,” I said.
    â€œI’ll get my suitcase.”
    When we walked back in the diner, Laverne’s father was behind the cash register. He looked at us with disgust and handed something to Flip. It was abill. All the food we ordered only came to seventeen dollars. Flip patted his pockets until he found his wallet. He opened it up.
    Flip’s wallet was empty.
    â€œUh, Stosh, you got any money on you?”

8
Thumbing a Ride
    SEVENTEEN DOLLARS .
    It really doesn’t sound like that much money. I guess if you happen to have a thousand dollars in your pocket, seventeen isn’t very much at all. But when you have nothing in your pocket and you’re in a different century and there’s this mean-looking guy holding his hand out and demanding money, it’s another story.
    Suddenly, seventeen dollars seemed like a fortune.
    â€œYou don’t have any money?” I whispered to Flip.
    â€œI forgot all about bringing money,” Flip said, panic creeping into his voice. “I didn’t think I’d need any.”
    â€œWhat’s your name, boy?” Laverne’s father suddenly asked.
    â€œStosh,” I said. “Joe Stoshack.”
    â€œNot you !” he said. “The big guy. What’s your name?”
    â€œFlip Valentini, sir. We’re just, uh…”
    â€œValentini, eh?” Laverne’s father muttered. “You an Italian?”
    He said the word like Eye -talian.
    â€œYes, sir,” Flip said. He was being especially polite.
    Laverne’s father made a face. It didn’t look like he liked Italians any better than blacks. He didn’t look like he liked anybody .
    I don’t always carry money with me, but I patted my pocket and breathed a sigh of relief that my wallet was in there. I still had the twenty-dollar bill I would have used if Flip hadn’t outbid me on the eBay auction. I handed it to Laverne’s father.
    â€œLunch is on me,” I said. I’d always wanted to say, “Lunch is on me.” It made me feel like a big shot.
    Laverne’s father took my bill and looked at it.
    â€œThis is a fake!” he said. “This ain’t no real twenty! Look at that. Andrew Jackson’s head is too big, and it ain’t in the middle!”
    â€œIt’s not fake!” I said, “It’s—”
    What was I supposed to say? That the bill was printed in the twenty-first century and I traveled back through time with it?
    â€œIt’s a new bill, sir,” Flip said. “Just issued.”
    â€œYou two are counterfeiters!” Laverne’s father shouted. Then he took my bill and ripped it in half.
    â€œHey!” I yelled. “That’s perfectly good money!”
    â€œTell it to the cops,” Laverne’s father said. Hewas reaching for the phone on the counter. Flip put his hand over the phone.
    â€œNo need to call the police, sir,” Flip said, forcing a laugh. “We were just kiddin’ with that bill. Do you accept American Express cards?”
    â€œAmerican Express?” asked Laverne’s father. “What’s that?”
    â€œLook, I’ll write you a check,” Flip said.
    â€œI ain’t takin’ your damn check!” said Laverne’s father. “You try to pass