Girls in High Places

Chapter Six

Five minutes to show time…

They formed a rough circle, holding hands as they prepared for their pre-show ritual. Michael barely paid attention to the usual prayers and plea for a great performance – his mind and gaze drifting ever so often towards the doors as if hoping the girls would magically appear before them. Unfortunately, it seemed as if that particular prayer wouldn’t be answered as Tito led the loud cheer to pump them up, before they had to dash onto the stage.

Once there, and as if programmed on autopilot, Michael soaked up the tremendous atmosphere of love and adoration from the screaming fans. He felt energized and yet not quite. Even as he plucked off the microphone from its stand to begin prancing around the stage to the infectious beats of ‘Moving Violation’, he sang with as much passion as he could muster, hoping that his worry wouldn’t get in the way of pleasing everyone around him.

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“Hurry up! We’re almost there!” Anita cried out as she tried to help Stacy get into her print blouse. Trying to change in the moving limousine (Marlon had made Big Bill drive Anita with the car to pick up her friend), was turning out to be a hassle.

“I’m trying! I’m trying!” came the muffled reply. “Where’re my shoes?” Stacy panted once the shirt was on and as she began to pull the jeans up her legs and hips, bouncing up and down on the backseat to make it fit.

“Here they are,” Anita replied, tossing the platform shoes to her friend. “You still want to wear the afro?”

Stacy eyed the puffy wig, while struggling into the footwear. “You think I should?”

“Girl,” Anita began, eyeing her friend’s hastily-tied ponytail. “I dunno…let’s just get your makeup on at least.”


By the time the car pulled up to the venue, Stacy looked somewhat presentable. Anita was still trying to apply her eye-liner, while brushing Stacy’s hair at the same time.

“You girls doing all right back there?” Bill asked as he peered over his shoulder. “The show’s already started.”

“Oh no,” Stacy moaned, her lipstick case clattering to the floor. She tried to reach for it, but Anita’s feet kicked it beneath a seat by accident, causing Stacy to curse in distress. “Damn, girl. Watch yourself!”

“Let’s just go,” Anita replied, tugging on Stacy’s hand as they leapt out of the limousine.

“My hair…!”

“Forget the hair!” came the hasty reply. “It looks good!”

Stacy had to forget about the afro after all, and nearly stumbling in the process, she allowed herself to be dragged through the backdoor with Bill acting as their guide – that way they wouldn’t have to explain to all the security who they were.

They were ushered through claustrophobic and narrow pathways while trying not to trip over wires and cords and all other sort of equipment they couldn’t phantom. Stacy could feel her heart pounding hard with adrenaline and excitement as the combined sounds of cheering fans and the music filled her being. It was magnified as Michael’s unique voice rose to fill the arena, seeming to lift her spirits to the point that she was nearly breathless. She couldn’t see him yet – as security and backstage staff seemed to block their view, but she could still sense the frenzy and heat that seemed to emanate from the stage. Randy was currently breaking it down on the congas and the brothers were dancing up a storm, driving the audience crazy.

“Ooooh, we’re so close to the stage!” Anita gasped in excitement, bouncing up and down and shaking her hips in time to the music. “There’s mah man, Marlon baby! Whooo!”

“Please step back, ladies,” one security man said, as he noticed Anita about to rush the stage. “You’ll have to get back to your seats.”

“They’re special guests,” Bill explained with a wink. “Michael’s specific orders.”

Stacy blushed faintly at the look that was exchanged between the men and wondered how many other girls had done this in the past. It seemed like they were used to such things and no one bothered them anymore. However, Stacy felt the hairs at the back of her neck prickle with awareness and she turned her head a little to notice the impassive stare from the Jackson patriarch. Swallowing tightly, she tried to smile but was dismayed to find it not reciprocated. She eyed her outfit self-consciously, now feeling as if the blouse was too low cut and considering she had forgotten to wear a bra in her haste, she felt even more vulnerable. There was no doubt Joseph Jackson was appraising her and wondering if she was even worth being a groupie. That knowledge dampened her enthusiasm a little.

To make matters worse, he was now walking towards her, and to her chagrin and confusion, there was a small smile on his features.

“You the infamous Stacy?” he began, his smile growing wider as he held out a hand to shake hers in a friendly gesture.

“Not…not infamous,” the girl replied, trying not to betray her worry. Anita was too far gone with the music and wasn’t paying that much attention to the conversation happening behind her.

“I’m just regular ol’ Stacy from Harlem,” she admitted with a soft laugh, wondering why Joseph wasn’t releasing her hand yet. His hand felt big and rough, and she briefly wondered if he would crush her fingers in anger.

“Well, Stacy from Harlem,” Joe began, still smiling although there was no denying the warning tone in his voice. “I just hope you realize that Michael isn’t looking for a commitment of any kind. In this business, it’s difficult to have that sort of a relationship. You understand, right?”

Stacy, not really sure why she was being told this, could only nod and smile wanly. “Of course, I understand, Mr. Jackson. I don’t want to marry Michael, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Joseph laughed good-naturedly. “Ah, but I’m not worried about that at all. It’s just that…he’s very special, you know and I want what’s best for him. I want him to finally get settled with…well…” He eyed her with something close to lechery in his eyes, and Stacy’s cheeks burned as she felt his gaze trained on her bosom. She knew she shouldn’t have worn this outfit!

“…well let’s just say I want him to settle with a woman with more…” He tried to look as if he was searching for the right words, but Stacy wasn’t a fool. She knew what Joseph was getting at and she felt even more humiliated and embarrassed by it all.

“It’s okay, Mr. Jackson,” she said quietly, forcing her hand to be released from his grip. “I do not have any designs on your son. I’m just a fan.”

“And we are going to keep it that way, right?” Joe asked, smiling as brightly as ever as if having the greatest conversation in the world.

“Yes…yes, sir.”

“Good, good.” He patted her shoulder gently, before motioning to Big Bill. “Why don’t you take the ladies to the front row where they can have a much better view of the show, eh? Keeping them backstage here isn’t good enough. Have fun, ladies!”

Stacy was finding it hard to fight back her tears, barely acknowledging Anita’s firm grip as Bill took charge.

“Come on girls,” Bill said as he began to lead them down a small flight of stairs that would take them out to the crowd. “Front row seats for you beauties. I’m sure the boys will be glad to see you.”

The noise was deafening, but Stacy could see and hear nothing. Of course the idea of even being a girlfriend to someone like Michael hadn’t really crossed her mind in the first place, as that had always been part of the fantasy. However, she knew she could still be friends with the singer, if he gave her a chance. Joseph’s harsh words had crushed her spirit though. It seemed like she didn’t have what it took to be the ‘perfect’ girl after all.

So deep was she in her funk, she did not notice that the music had stopped and the boys were taking a mini-break on the stage.

“How’s everyone doing tonight?” Michael asked as he adjusted his microphone and walked up to the front of the stage. “I said, how’s everyone doing tonight?” He asked again, earning another loud roar of approval from the audience.

Michael giggled as some over enthusiastic girls began to chant ‘I love you!’ at the top of their lungs, and as his gaze drifted over the seemingly endless faces before him, it finally stopped on the pensive features of the very girl he had been waiting for all this time.

“Sta…Stacy…” he whispered, completely forgetting he still had the microphone and that his ‘whisper’ was actually amplified causing his brothers and the rest of his band…as well as the first few rows of people in the audience to blink in confusion (was that the start of a new song?) before following his stunned gaze.

Stacy heard her name being called and she looked up, with a start, and into the smiling visage of Michael, who was so close and yet so far away. There was actually a barricade and then a row of police officers/security…some space in-between and then the main stage itself. So it would have been impossible for Michael to reach out to her even if he wanted to.

Her cheeks felt hot at the look in his eyes, and her heart wasn’t helping much as its beat quickened with an intensity that made her knees weak. Anita screamed in delight beside her as Marlon blew a kiss in her direction, and Stacy, too numb and still frozen from Michael’s stare, could only suffer her best friend’s excited hug in silence.

“Hey, Mike?” Jackie asked. “What we gonna sing next, brother?”

“Si…Sing…?” Michael couldn’t stop grinning. He was so glad that Stacy had finally shown up, he was screwing up the routine they were supposed to be performing at this time. He was knocked back to the real world by Marlon nudging him playfully.

“Snap out of it, Romeo,” Marlon hissed into his ear, before moving back to his mic to tease his brother. “I think Michael’s been hypnotized.”

“Oooooooooh,” came the teasing cries from the other boys, which was reciprocated by the audience. They didn’t know any better as they assumed it was all a part of the show.

“No…not hypnotized,” Michael finally said, as he pretended to pat himself on the forehead. “I think…I think I’m…I think I’m getting a fever.”

“A fever?” came the mock cries of shock from his brothers.

“What you talkin’ about, Mike?” Tito asked and strummed a few chords on his guitar.

Michael, now getting into his act, while stealing shy glances at the flushed girl, continued in dramatic fashion. He swayed and held his chest. “My heart…it’s beating so fast…my head…it feels so hot. What am I gonna do?”

Marlon tried to look distressed, even though he was trying his best not to laugh. “You need to see a doctor, Mike?”

“A doctor?”

“Yeah?” Jackie chimed in. “This sounds like a case for a doctor.”

“But…but this illness…it’s burning my soul!” Michael crooned. “I can’t…I can’t take it anymore. There’s only one thing to cure it.”

“What’s that, Mike?” Randy asked.

Michael walked back to his microphone stand and closing his eyes, he took a deep breath before opening them to pin them directly at Stacy. “Only one way to cure this illness and that’s with….” He clapped his hands, just as the beat came on cue. “…with just a little bit of you, baby! Ahwo!”

He pointed towards Stacy’s direction, which unfortunately had many of the girls behind her screaming in delight as they all assumed he was speaking to them.

As he sang and moved all over the stage, dazzling his adoring audience with his magnificent brilliance, Stacy struggled not to cry as the lyrics of the song seemed to hit home. He might have been singing it to the thousands of people in the Garden, but true to his word, Michael was singing the song to her…for her.

In that moment, she felt like the only girl left in the world with him. Gone was the pain from the abuse she had suffered at the hands of the man she once loved. Gone was the harsh reality of growing up in Harlem. Her father had been killed when she was only five and it was Mama who had slaved tirelessly, sometimes working three jobs at a time, to make sure she got into a good school. She had four other brothers and sisters – two who were still in Jamaica with her grandmother and the others living with her mother.

Kevin had appeared as a godsend at first – a nice, handsome young man who had a steady job and promised to take good care of her. Unfortunately, all of that had been a lie. For after the first year of being happy as a couple (she had been seventeen at the time), Kevin had turned into a monster – a man incapable of seeing anything good in Stacy and had set out to de-mean and make her emotionally crippled.

Her release came in her love for the Jackson 5 – their music, a staple in her life for so long. Whenever she felt down or couldn’t go on, all she had to do was turn on the radio and listen to all their music. With whatever pocket money she had, she spent it on getting magazines devoted to the boys or their records. The bedroom she had shared with her sisters was a Jackson 5 shrine, and because Kevin could not appreciate her love for the group, Stacy had hidden her passion for their music as much as she could.

The past two days were a dream come true and she had only one person to thank for that. She turned to her best friend, and with no warning, wrapped her arms around Anita’s neck in a tight hug, hoping she could convey all the love and gratitude for what her best friend had done for her. Even if nothing came out of this, just knowing that she was here tonight…it was more than enough.

“Girl, stop the waterworks!” Anita chided playfully, returning the hug. “You should be happy, not crying!”

“I can’t help it,” Stacy confessed, just as Michael did another spinning move that drove the ladies wild. “Oh, my God…I can’t breathe. He is soooooo sexy!”

“You said it, girl!” Anita laughed and holding out a hand, they began to dance in time to the music, bumping hips and shaking them, hands over their heads as they allowed their inhibitions to come tumbling down.

By the time the concert was over, they were drenched in sweat and babbling to each other in excitement. Big Bill had returned to usher them backstage and as soon as Marlon and Anita saw each other, there was no stopping them.

Michael, who was wiping his face with a towel, glanced over his shoulder at the commotion and would have made a wisecrack about Marlon and Anita sucking face, when he finally noticed Stacy in the background.

He smiled and tossed the towel to a stagehand, his features lighting up with undeniable pleasure as he eyed the girl from head to toe with appreciation.

“Damn girl…” he began in a husky voice that sounded nothing like his usual high-pitched tone, while holding out his arms in blatant invitation.

“Come here.”