Looking intently at Wade’s parents, he went on, “It’s important that he receive some support on the home front as well. We have discussed this at length in our sessions this past year. My door will always be open to Wade, and if any of you have questions or want to discuss issues as they come up, please call me.”
Mr. Pete rose from his chair. “I wish you the best. And, Wade, please don’t forget to check in with me from time to time. I’ll be following your progress through Coach Baxter if you choose to go to Monroe.”
Wade moved back home with his parents. He also called and arranged a meeting with Coach Baxter at Monroe, and there was an instant rapport between them. Coach Baxter was not at all like Mr. Pete. Baxter was a former marine drill sergeant who had come up through the ranks to be an officer. He was the son of a career Marine father and was all about discipline and conditioning. In their first meeting, after talking about the upcoming football schedule, school rules, and the like, Coach Baxter told Wade, “Everyone competes for a position to play on this team, even seniors. Nobody gets a free ride. If you come into my program you’ll work your ass off — harder than you’ve ever worked in your life. We start practice for the next season in early summer and go until school starts. Practice on most days in the summer is twice a day. If you have a girlfriend, hobby, like to go fishing, or like to go on vacation trips with Mommy and Daddy during the summer, you need to forget about making this team. If you screw up with grades in school you’re off the team, period. If you want to chase girls and party, then go out for the volleyball team, not football.”
He frowned and his eyes scanned Wade’s upper body, “You look a little skinny and flat-chested to me. I want to see you get in the weight room as soon as possible if you come here.”
The coach paused, and his tone changed. “Look, if you’re up for my program I’d love to have you. I just need your full commitment. Let me know by next month what you decide.”
He stood up to shake Wade’s hand; the meeting was over.
As Wade walked out of the Coach Baxter’s office, he passed the weight room and smiled as he saw himself among all the guys seriously working out.
Because he was so impressed with Coach Baxter, Wade knew he wanted to go to Monroe. He could hardly wait to sign up for football. Wade moved home, registered at Monroe and spent most of his summer in the weight room, at football practice and started school in the fall.
Life at home seemed different. There was less yelling and screaming. In particular, his mother’s outbursts were less intense and more infrequent. Her health had also started to decline. From drinking, chain smoking and a host of other bad habits, she had developed diabetes, and liver and kidney problems. She had trouble getting around and confined herself to the house.
The parent sessions with Mr. Pete may also have helped Wade’s mother achieved a quieter state. She was more peaceful and easier to be around. Wade’s father had received a regional promotion and was travelling more. With his mother in bed most of the time, Wade largely had the house to himself. The quieter environment allowed him to study and prepare school papers.
Coach Baxter, like Mr. Pete, became an important part of Wade’s life, but in a very different way. The coach was tough, and prone to yelling if you made a mistake. Baxter had a muscular, marine combat-ready frame. He was not shy about getting on the line with the players without a helmet or any protective equipment — and slamming them into the dirt in order to demonstrate a point.
Thanks to hard workouts on the field and in the weight room, Wade was becoming more muscular, and he also became mentally tougher during this junior high period. His academic grades were very respectable, averaging B’s and high C’s. He excelled in football, making first string on the varsity squad his first year. He maintained that position throughout his two years of junior high school.
More than one female student was interested in Wade. But other than friendly conversation and the occasional date, Wade showed little interest in potential relationship opportunities. Coach Baxter required his team to scrimmage with older high school teams, and those were brutal contests for the younger and smaller junior high team members. It hardened them long before their regular games against other junior high schools.
Wade’s admiration and respect for Coach Baxter grew steadily. Coach Baxter’s respect for Wade grew as well. He admired the kid’s toughness and winning spirit. From time to time, Wade would ask for Coach Baxter’s advice on personal matters unrelated to football and “Coach” would give him straight answers.
There were occasional fights between players in hotly contested games, but those were quickly broken up before they amounted to anything other than threats. There was some gang activity around the school area, but Wade stayed clear of those activities and people.
The school sponsored dances on weekends, and those were especially fun when the team won. The dances were chaperoned by teaches, coaches, and some parents. The school also hired private security guards for the dances to prevent any problems from getting out of hand. It was in 8th grade that an incident brought Wade wheeling back to some darker times at Westbrook Alternative School.
Wade had been dancing with a cute girl in his class. Two older guys Wade didn’t recognize approached him when the music stopped between dances. One of them said, “Someone wants to see you outside.”
“Who is it?”
“He knows you and just wants to see you.” The guy pointed to a side door where there was no guard. It was the door that led to the trash and delivery area of the building. These two looked liked tough gang members from outside the area. Wade turned to one of his big lineman teammates, who was dancing near him. Wade asked him to come with him to see the guy outside.
His lineman friend said, “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
One of the two gang guys said, “He just wants to talk to you,” pointing to Wade.
The two guys, Wade, and Wade’s friend went to the side door. Standing under the overhead light, there was a third gang-looking guy even older than the first two. Everyone gathered around Wade and the older gang member. The older guy was well built, taller than Wade, and definitely looked like a hood. He said, “I’m calling you out, asshole”.
“Why?”
“I don’t like you.” The guy said, “Just you and me; these guys will just watch.”
“I don’t know you,” said Wade, starting to turn back to the door.
“You know Janelle?”
“I’m not sure I do.”
The guy replied, “She says hello.” He continued, “Look man, if you don’t want to battle here, you know where Lafayette Park is, just a few blocks away?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll meet you at 10:00 pm.”
Wade simply looked at the three of them before walking back into the dance with his friend.
Wade never showed up at the park, but he was suddenly thrown back into an awareness of gang operations, and he felt certain they would try to follow him. He drove home in a roundabout way, alert for anyone following. Wade didn’t tell anyone about the incident at the dance. He designed and welded together a metal drop-down drawer that he had seen someone else make at a garage. The drawer served as a hidden compartment under the dashboard of a car. It worked by means of a hidden button which activated the drop-down mechanism when pushed. He installed the secret compartment on the underside of the dash in his '55 Chevy. He painted everything the same black color as the dash. The compartment could not be opened unless the remote hidden button was pushed. Wade’s metalwork job was excellent. The outline of the hidden compartment couldn’t be seen even on close inspection. Without anyone’s knowledge, for the next three months Wade carried a loaded .45 pistol that his uncle had given him in this compartment. The handle was wrapped in white surgical tape so fingerprints could not be identified if he had to use it. Wade’s early years of hunting and fishing in the woods and along the bayous of Louisiana were coming in handy now. He knew how to operate the .45 and wasn’t afraid to use it.