Promise by Judy Young

trumpet.
    â€œWell, practicing for a pure tone is like trying to pitch consistently over home plate. You have to practice the same throw over and over to get it there every time.”
    Now sitting on the porch, Kaden put the trumpet to his lips. Blast. Blast. Blast. He put the trumpet down and rubbed his mouth. Then he tried again. Practicing until his mouth grew tired, he went inside, made a sandwich, and headed for his cabin.
    Kaden picked up his new ball and glove and went out behind his cabin. Several summers ago, Emmett had stretched a net between two trees at the edge of the woods. He’d painted a red square in the middle of it. Forty-six feetfrom the net, the exact distance on a Little League field, he’d made a pitcher’s mound.
    Kaden stood on the mound and pitched the ball toward the square. It hit dead center and bounced back at him, landing in the new glove. He pitched again and again, sometimes aiming at the center, sometimes at a specific corner.
    It was almost dark when Kaden heard a vehicle pull in the circle drive and stop. The motor turned off and a door slammed. Pitching another ball, Kaden realized something wasn’t right. If Emmett turned off the motor, he should have heard two doors shut. Gram’s and Emmett’s. If Emmett were just dropping Gram off, only one door would shut, but Emmett wouldn’t have turned off the motor.
    Kaden turned to look at the back of Gram’s cabin. No lights lit up the curtains hanging in her bedroom window. He stood silently and listened. He heard no voices. Putting the ball in the glove, Kaden crept quietly between his cabin and the junk cabin and peeked around the corner. In the driveway was his father’s white pickup truck.
    Kaden instinctively pulled his head back out of sight and leaned against the side of his cabin, his heart beating wildly. He listened for footsteps in the gravel but all he heard were crickets. Cautiously, he peeked around the corner again and saw something quite clearly. His cabin was dark. Gram’scabin was dark. Cabin Four was dark. But light poured out the open door of Cabin Five.
    Kaden pulled his head back again. The sun had still been out when he fixed a sandwich in Gram’s cabin, so he hadn’t turned on any lights. He hadn’t turned on the light in his cabin either. Dad doesn’t think anyone is home , Kaden realized. Kaden looked down at the ball and glove. They had been left on his bed when Gram had gone to the school and no one was home. And the backpack had been left at the tower before Kaden got home from school. Another thing was beginning to be quite clear. Dad was keeping watch on the place. He knew when they were there and when they weren’t. Except this time, Dad was wrong .
    Gathering up his courage, Kaden ran down the side and across the back of his cabin, across the back of Gram’s cabin, past the back of Cabin Four, and then across the last gap to the back of Cabin Five. He listened but couldn’t hear anything except his own breathing. Slowly, quietly, Kaden inched his way along the side of Cabin Five until he reached the front corner.
    There, he stopped and listened again. He heard a drawer open and someone rummaging through its contents. Holding his breath, Kaden tiptoed around the corner and peeked into the crack between the curtains. A man was going through thedesk drawer, his back to the window. The man shoved the desk drawer closed and turned toward the door. Kaden quickly ducked, getting only a glimpse of the man’s face before he bolted around the corner and back behind Cabin Five.
    â€œIs somebody out there?” Kaden heard the man call out. He heard footsteps crunching in the gravel of the circle drive. They went about ten steps, just about halfway between Cabin Five and Cabin Four, then stopped.
    Kaden froze, saying nothing. The man stood still and said nothing. It was only for a few seconds but it seemed like forever. Finally Kaden heard the man