Read Promise Online

Authors: Judy Young

Promise (5 page)

“Don't you look spiffy for the first day of school,” Doris said. “Must have given up some of your hard-earned bucks in Chapston City.”

“Yeah, Emmett took me,” Kaden said. He thought about the quiet ride to Chapston City to buy school supplies. Kaden knew Emmett wouldn't explain Gram's words. So he just looked out the window, keeping his eyes peeled for a white
pickup with a cargo carrier in the back. But the only white pickup he recognized had a magnetic sign stuck on the door with the eagle head emblem and the words U
NITED
S
TATES
P
OSTAL
S
ERVICE
written in dark blue.

Now Kaden plopped down in the seat right behind Doris, feeling conspicuously new. New jeans, new sneakers, new T-shirt, even new socks and underwear. Just like the first day every year, Gram had insisted, but Kaden knew he was a sitting target for Luke.

“Don't take off yet,” he told Doris. “Gram's coming today.”

“Good,” Doris replied. “It's been a long summer. Lots to catch up on.”

Kaden was always the first on the bus and the last off. The bus always arrived a half hour earlier than it needed to because Doris enjoyed a cup of coffee with Emmett every morning before going on down the mountain into town. Kaden didn't mind. Unlike Gram, Emmett loved to bake.

“Not cook, mind you,” he would say. “Bake.”

Kaden could always count on something good in the morning. Cheese biscuits, apple crisp, or his favorite, homemade cinnamon rolls. Emmett's treats made a nice dessert to the bowl of lumpy oatmeal with raisins Gram placed in front of Kaden every morning.

Gram also liked “a little something,” as she called it, and
even though she wouldn't admit it, she also enjoyed a bit of gossip with Doris. Gram didn't go every day but rode the bus to Emmett's at least a couple of times a week.

“I forgot,” Doris said to Kaden as Gram climbed aboard, “you'll get first choice of middle-school seats now, won't you?”

“Yep,” Kaden answered, “and I'm taking this one, right here.”

Promise Elementary and Promise Middle School were both squished into the same building. A crow flying over would see its hallways made a big rectangle with a courtyard in the middle. The left hallway held middle-school classrooms. Elementary classrooms were on the right. A back hallway completed the rectangle leading to an all-purpose room that served as both cafeteria and gym. Opposite the all-purpose room was the library, with a set of glass doors that opened into the courtyard.

A one-way drive for buses only went down the left side of the school, across the back and then up the right side. A cars-only drive curved past the front. Beyond that was a wide strip of grass and then the school parking lot. Standing prominently in the grass were a flagpole and a sign saying P
ROMISE
E
LEMENTARY AND
M
IDDLE
S
CHOOL
.

Only teachers and car riders entered through the front
doors. All other students entered and exited in back. Doris required middle-school students to sit at the front of her bus in the morning because they would get off first. In the afternoon, when the middle schoolers loaded first, she had them sit at the back. She was very proud of her entry and exit system and boasted she could load and unload a bunch of kids faster and with fewer problems than anybody in Hill County.

Kaden figured the seat right behind Doris would be the best one. He could be down the steps and out the bus door before anyone could push, shove, elbow, or trip him.

The bus pulled out from the McCrorys' cabins, went around the bend, down the hill, and pulled into Emmett's driveway. With the bus windows down in the late August heat, Kaden could smell cinnamon rolls before Doris even opened the door.

Doris and Gram walked through the kitchen and into the dining room, taking their usual spots at the dining room table. Kaden stayed with Emmett in the kitchen. While Emmett poured coffee and put cinnamon rolls on a platter, Kaden poured himself a glass of milk.

“Any new pictures on the wall?” Kaden asked, even though he knew the answer.

“No, none since your birthday last month,” Emmett
stated.

They were referring to the wall at the far end of the kitchen, where four large cork bulletin boards hung. Each bulletin board was loaded with photographs. Layers upon unorganized layers overlapping each other, depicting years and years. There were babies, kids, people holding fish they'd caught, trophies they'd won. Dogs and horses, kittens and puppies. Sunsets, flowers, and snowy landscapes. The collection had long ago outgrown the bulletin boards and covered the entire wall. It was now creeping over the doorframe and wending itself around the corner. It reminded Kaden of ivy covering a medieval castle, a living wall. But this one was made of a lifetime of memories, and Emmett could tell you the story living behind each picture. Kaden was so familiar with the stories, they had become his stories, too, even though many occurred before he was born and were about people he'd never met.

“There's your birthday picture.” Emmett pointed to Kaden holding a big piece of poster board with a gigantic number eleven written on it. There were eight other similar pictures scattered here and there, one for each year since he turned three. Emmett took the cinnamon rolls into the dining room, but Kaden stayed, looking at the wall. There were several pictures of his dad but there wasn't one in which
his father was over fourteen years old.

Kaden looked closely at one of the pictures, trying to see if there was any resemblance between the young teen and the grown man with the white truck. But he hadn't gotten a good look at the man. Not enough to compare with a twenty-year-old photograph.

Back on the bus, Kaden put his backpack on the seat to guarantee nobody would sit next to him. He didn't think anyone would, but just as a precaution. Entering town, the bus wound through neighborhoods and quickly filled with students. The last house was Luke's. No one had taken the seat behind Kaden but now Luke plopped down in it. Kaden pretended to be very interested in looking out the window.

“I bet he held up a store for those new clothes.” Luke's voice was clearly heard over the din of voices. Several giggles followed.

“Should have nabbed a new backpack while he was at it,” Luke continued. “He's used the same backpack for years.”

Kaden kept quiet and continued to stare out the window, pretending he didn't hear. Luke was right, though. It was the same backpack he'd had since third grade. Gram had patched
up holes and countlessly sewn the shoulder straps back on, but each fall she said it would last another year.

The bus came to a stop and Kaden sprang from his seat. He entered the building, thinking Doris wasn't the only one with a superb exit plan.

CHAPTER SEVEN

A-TEAM

At Promise Middle School there was no surprise about which students would be in Kaden's classes. The same eighteen students all started kindergarten together and would be together until they graduated from eighth grade. Then they would go to Hill County Regional High School, which combined students from Promise, Thredt, and several other small towns in the area.

Likewise, there would be no surprise about who his teachers would be. Every year, the same three teachers shared sixth, seventh, and eighth grades. Mr. Herd always taught math and science. Mr. Clary taught reading and English, and Ms. Ales taught a class of history to each middle-school
grade, then spent the rest of the day as the librarian for both elementary and middle school. The art, music, and PE teachers also taught both elementary and middle-school classes.

Entering the school, most of the kids turned down the back hallway toward the cafeteria. Some would eat breakfast, others just hung out for the seventeen minutes until first bell. But Kaden hurried straight ahead to Ms. Ales's room. Much to his surprise, there was a kid already in there. Kaden had never seen him before and he was sitting at Kaden's desk. Every year his classroom had four rows of desks, with five desks in each. Kaden always sat at the same desk. The desk in the back corner by the window. And ever since first grade, no kids ever sat in the desk next to his or in front of it.

Kaden liked being isolated in the back corner and wasn't happy a new kid was taking his spot. Someone like Luke would just walk up and demand that the new kid move. But Kaden didn't like confrontation. Without looking at the kid, Kaden walked across the room and dumped his backpack on the desk in front of him.

“Hi,” the boy said cheerfully.

“Hi,” Kaden replied unenthusiastically. He slid into the seat and busied himself with opening his backpack. He didn't say another word and was glad the new kid didn't either.

First bell rang. Other students came into the room in groups and clusters, all laughing and talking with each other. They immediately noticed the new kid but no one spoke to him. Nobody chose the seat next to him either, but the whispering started almost instantly. Kaden saw Luke say something to Elana behind his hand. Elana looked back toward Kaden and the new boy. The new boy waved at Elana and she turned quickly back around. Luke said something else and laughed. Others around him laughed, too, but Elana gave only a halfhearted smile.

Ms. Ales came into the room talking with a woman. Kaden had never seen her before either. Several students whispered, “Who's that?”

When second bell rang, Ms. Ales picked up a small brass bell on her desk and rang it. Everyone had heard Ms. Ales's little bell in library since kindergarten and all knew to quiet down.

“Welcome to middle school, A-Team,” Ms. Ales said to the class. She used the same nickname with every class, every year. “I hope you all had a great summer. You should have your schedules. They were mailed to you along with the middle-school handbook. Some of the rules are different from elementary, so I suggest you read it. Now I want to introduce a couple people. I'm sure you noticed we have a new student.”

The new kid gave a big grin and a little wave. Then leaning across his desk, he whispered over Kaden's shoulder, “Here it comes.”

Kaden had no idea what he was talking about.

“Our new student's name is Yo-Yo Strokowski,” Ms. Ales stated, as if there were nothing at all unusual about his name.

“Yo-Yo? You gotta be kidding!” Luke called out. Most of the class giggled. Kaden sat there, glad the negative attention was on someone else for a change.

“A-Team!” Ms. Ales said sternly. “We will have none of that. Yes, he has an unusual name.” Ms. Ales looked at Yo-Yo, gave a big smile, and continued. “Welcome to our school, Yo-Yo. I'm sure you'll make a wonderful addition to the A-Team.”

Yo-Yo grinned at Ms. Ales, then leaned forward again and whispered to Kaden, “That wasn't too bad. I've had it worse. Sometimes even the teacher laughs or has a smart comment. Believe me, I've heard them all.”

Ms. Ales turned back to the class. “We also have a new teacher. This is Mrs. Strokowski, Yo-Yo's mom. She's the new music teacher.”

Mrs. Strokowski stepped forward. “I'm glad to meet the A-Team,” she said. Kaden wondered how long it would take her to realize Ms. Ales had nine A-Teams, one for each grade.
“I look forward to having you in music class every Tuesday. And if you decide to join band, you'll be with me after lunch on Tuesday and Thursday, too, instead of study hall.”

“Next comes the explanation,” Yo-Yo whispered.

“I'm sure you noticed my son has an unusual name. He shares it with one of the most talented musicians of our time, Yo-Yo Ma. Has anyone ever heard of Yo-Yo Ma?”

No one raised their hand. Mrs. Strokowski stared toward her son, and he unenthusiastically raised his hand to shoulder height.

When his mom's attention turned back toward the rest of the class, Yo-Yo leaned forward and whispered again. “Now for the assignment,” he said.

“Well, that will be our first assignment, then,” Mrs. Strokowski stated. “Tomorrow, when you come to music, I want you to know what instrument Yo-Yo Ma plays. But this won't be hard. It just so happens he's playing tonight on public television at seven o'clock.”

Other books

The Steerswoman's Road by Rosemary Kirstein
True Faith by Sam Lang
Crestmont by Holly Weiss
Solitary Man by Carly Phillips
Rondo Allegro by Sherwood Smith
Final Exam by Natalie Deschain


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024