Girls in High Places

Chapter Ten

Three Months Later…

“That’s going to be…fifteen eighty-three, Mrs. Johnson.”

She flashed a warm smile at the old lady, even though she winced inwardly as the woman pulled out a small brown bag filled with pennies. There was already a long line behind her in the crowded store, and Stacy could feel their impatient vibes and groans of disbelief as Mrs. Johnson began to count each coin slowly.

Thanks to a door-buster sale and it being a Saturday, the local grocery store was packed to capacity with eager shoppers. However, there was a shortage of help as only three registers, including hers, was open for business. It was simply impossible to deal with the number of customers at the moment and after standing on her feet for almost five hours, Stacy needed a break badly.

“…oh dear,” came the low mutter from Mrs. Johnson. “I think I miscounted…let me start again.”

“Oh come on!” someone yelled from the line, amidst other curses and irritated complaints. Stacy held out a hand to appease them, smiling apologetically while craning her neck to see if the manager was available. The least the greedy s.o.b could do was come to the front to help out. But as usual, he was nowhere in sight.

Probably in the backroom eating again, she thought wearily.

As she began to help Mrs. Johnson count her coins, her mind drifted to the rapid way her life had changed over the past few months. She was now living with her mother, having to sleep in the living room as the only extra bedroom was occupied by her brother and sister. Sometimes she slept with her mother, but found it too awkward to deal with. Mama’s sleeping habits weren’t exactly the best as she tossed and turned so much, she sometimes ended up kicking Stacy off the bed by accident. Stacy really didn’t mind the sleeping arrangements as long as she was no where near Kevin. Speaking of which, Kevin had made no attempts to look for her, and according to Anita, the bastard was currently dating some chick at his workplace. He still had a large scar on his forehead – a constant reminder of what his ex-girlfriend had done, and Stacy had to smile a little at that. It was only a small scar compared to all the emotional ones Kevin had imprinted on her, but she was learning to enjoy life again without the constant worry of his shadow looming over her.

As for Anita, her best friend had become more reserved and less inclined to be her wild and wacky self. Since being kicked out from the hotel room and unable to fulfill her dream of being with Marlon, Anita was less prone to being chatty and would end up becoming morose during the few times she met up with Stacy. Considering they lived a bit further away from each other now, they tried to meet up at least once a week, and it was during one such meeting that Stacy finally received Michael’s phone number and address.

“So…you gonna call him?” Anita had asked as they sat in the coffee shop on that cold Friday morning.

“It’s too soon, isn’t it? They’re still on the road and this is his Encino residence, right?” Stacy replied, still eyeing the paper that contained Michael’s uneven scribble. Maybe it was her imagination, but she could swear his scent was still all over the sheet, and her heartbeat raced with pleasure. She resisted the urge to kiss the paper, as that would be considered taking her admiration a bit too far.

“Yeah…you’re right,” Anita mumbled and promptly began sniffling and sobbing into her cup of coffee. Stacy, alarmed at this sudden turn of events, found herself trying to be the cheerful one, hoping to convince Anita that Marlon would never forget her and would return or call her soon enough. Unfortunately, Anita was inconsolable and Stacy couldn’t really blame her. There were nights when she still found herself getting emotional over the way things had ‘ended’ between her and Michael and as each day went by, Stacy wondered if the gulf in their relationship would be wider and wider.

She kept up with their touring schedule as she was a member of the Jackson 5 fan club. From Chicago, they were heading over to Kansas and then Detroit, then Atlanta and Miami…and even up to Seattle. In Las Vegas, they would spend a whole month there doing shows. There was no way to call Michael during those times as she could imagine him drifting from hotel room to hotel room in all these cities. According to the tour dates, their U.S run was to end in January…three very long months after he left New York.

She sighed and bagged the cans of tomato sauce from her next customer, wondering if that opportunity to speak to Michael would ever come again. She wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t called her back. She was sure he still believed she was upset with him and had probably hung up on him to make things worse. At least she could draw comfort from listening to his music at night, having to lower the tune of the radio so she didn’t wake up her mother and siblings.

God, how she missed him!

I have so much to say to you, she thought sadly. I just hope you haven’t forgotten all about me by now, Michael…


__


Las Vegas at night.

It really was a sight to see as Michael leaned against the landscape window, hands in the pockets of his pants, to eye the breathtaking view of sparkling array of lights below their hotel room. The penthouse suite of Caesar’s Palace wasn’t a bad place to stay, and the boys had been given anything their hearts desired…scantily-clad women included.

Michael could vaguely hear his brothers splashing in the rooftop pool with some fans (mostly of the female kind), including Marlon, who seemed to have gotten over his anger and frustration at not being with the love of his life, Anita.

“Aren’t you coming?” Randy panted as he dashed back into the spacious living room with only a towel draped around his waist and a cheesy grin on his features. He was finally being allowed to have a little more fun on this leg of their tour and he had acquired his own fan club, some of who were now trying to find him in their little game of hide and seek.

Michael shrugged lightly with a wan smile. “Nah…you guys…”

“There he is!” one of the fan’s screeched and Randy gave a mock gasp of horror at being found before dashing off with two bikini-clad girls running after him.

Michael rolled his eyes and pushed himself away from the wall. He made his way down a small flight of stairs, marveling at how gorgeous their suite was. Done in the style of early Roman architecture, it was accentuated with columns and balustrades made of real marble and gold finishes – statues of gods and goddesses, real plants and breathtaking bouquet arrangements complimented the decor. He made a mental note to acquire or purchase some of these things for their Encino home or at least…when he bought his own place and settled down…

…with a wife and maybe two or three kids…some of whom would have Stacy’s eyes…and maybe her long legs and…

“Why so mopey?” came the loud voice that jarred through his daydream. Marlon slapped an arm around his shoulder and offered him a red and pink concoction in a large glass garnished with a lemon, a cherry, straws, and a floating umbrella. “Have a taste.”

“No…” Michael tried to push it away, but Marlon (Michael was sure he was half-way drunk) would have none of it, and tried to force it down his kid brother’s throat. Michael, now sick and tired of being pushed around – not that he had Marlon to blame for this, but still…he could only take it so often – shoved Marlon away with a growl of annoyance.

“Cut it out! I’m not in the mood goddamnit!”

He watched dispassionately as Marlon fell on his ass, the drink spilling all over his bare chest and down to the white marble floor.

“You little…!” Marlon dove for Michael and would have missed – since Michael was notorious for being able to dodge any impending attack with a speed that never ceased to amaze his family – if it wasn’t for the large ottoman that had him tripping backwards. They wrestled for a bit, both panting and trying to get the upper hand in their impromptu fight. It wasn’t their first time getting into an argument – sometimes over the most trivial of things - but tonight seemed different…more intense and filled with unspoken fury at the way things were going in their lives.

“Get off me!” Michael growled, kicking out and managing to untangle himself from Marlon’s grasp. His neck was hurting and his shirt was ripped, but he had done some damage as Marlon’s chest now bore a few scratches from Michael’s desperate attempts to escape.

“Don’t you dare touch me!” he panted breathlessly, staggering backwards as he said this. “Don’t you ever touch me!”

“Shut the hell up, you cry baby!” came the low growl. “You think you’re better than us, trying to act all cool and as if you’re above us! What the hell is wrong with you, huh?! All throughout this tour, you keep acting like you’re the only one who’s lost a girl he really liked!”

Michael sneered. “Oh yeah? You have a fine way of showing you’re missing Anita. Look at you! Running around with naked women and sleeping with some of them in the other cities we’ve been to! You say you love her and yet you don’t respect her!”

Marlon looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel. “Shut up, Michael…”

“I won’t shut up! All of you…all of you ….you treat your women like…like…!” The words wouldn’t come out and Michael was horrified to realize he was this close to bursting into tears. He had seen his mother’s face as he said this – the knowledge that she was back in Encino while her husband was currently on dates with some showgirls was too much to take. He thought of Tito and Jackie’s wives and their children, dismayed at how they would react if they knew the truth of what really happened during the tours. It made him sick to his stomach to listen to their phone calls, to hear them lying through their teeth of how much they were missed and how they couldn’t wait to get home, when five minutes later, they were chatting up another girl.

He took a deep breath and shook his head. He couldn’t see himself doing that to Stacy. Even though she must still be upset with him…at least if he got to speak to her one more time…perhaps explain to her again or perhaps hear from her lips that she was through with him…maybe then he could finally move on.

“I’m going to bed,” he finally said flatly, spinning on his heels to walk away. He ignored Marlon calling him again, and slammed their bedroom door shut behind him. On legs that trembled, he finally managed to make it to his bed, where he collapsed in exhaustion and misery. He stared morosely at the phone…something he had found himself doing in every single hotel room they had been in since he left New York. The desperate need to call Stacy had caused him to pick up the handset…begin dialing…only to lower it again as he recalled the sudden way she had hung up on him. He knew the phone number to her mother’s house by heart and his song writing ability was improving as he almost always wrote new lyrics every night about something Stacy-related.

He didn’t know if any of them were any good, but he could imagine how she’d look if she decided to sing one of them for her.

He closed his eyes and visualized her smile and how delighted she’d be to see him again. He replayed the movie-like scene in his head. He’d return to New York and in the pouring rain…he’d meet her at the subway and they’d run into each other’s arms (in super slow-mo of course), never wanting to let go. They’d kiss so hard and so long, it would take ten bodyguards to pry him off her, and if he was lucky, he’d convince her to marry him…nothing big…just a small wedding at city hall with their mothers as witnesses. He’d stop being Michael Jackson the famous singer and he’d change his name to something else…maybe he’d even cut his hair and apply the chemicals to make it straight. He’d grow a moustache and then no one would recognize him. Even better, they’d finally find a small house and move to the suburbs of Washington…as far away from the famous people/life as possible.

“Oh, Stacy,” he moaned as his thoughts began to drift towards their last night together. What he would do to touch her again…

The door to the room suddenly banged open and Michael opened his eyes with guilt on his features, as if caught doing something he shouldn’t have, while secretly thanking God he hadn’t gotten around to unzipping his pants yet. Standing at the door was Marlon, which had Michael stiffening in readiness for another fight. However, he was surprised to notice that his older brother looked like he had been…crying? And his guess was proven right as Marlon sniffled softly before closing the door behind him.

Both brothers looked at each other for a minute before turning away as if embarrassed at this raw and vulnerable moment between them.

Finally, Marlon spoke softly…so softly, Michael wasn’t sure he had heard correctly. “I do miss her. Everyday.”

“Then why do you cheat on her?” Michael asked in pained whisper. “Why are you acting like Joseph?”

Marlon flinched as if hit. “We’re not married or anything, Michael. How do you know for sure she’s not cheating on me either? I mean…if I were married to her…I would never cheat on her. I swear it.”

“So you’re saying it’s okay to mess around because you’re not committed in that way?”

Marlon gave a weak smile. “Sometimes, I think your naïve way of thinking is way too cute, brother. But this is the real world and in the real world, things aren’t always as simple as they seem, you dig? To be with someone like Stacy…you’ll have to give up a lot, Michael.” He waved his hands around to signify the room and its extravagance. “This. All this. If you want to pursue your dream to be the best singer or actor or whatever…there’s a lot of sacrifice involved and that means finding a girl who can deal with all of that.”

Michael bit his lower lip in thought. “What are you saying…?”

“I’m saying maybe this isn’t the kind of life Stacy wants, Michael. She seems like a nice girl, but can you imagine the toll all this touring and stuff will eventually take?”

“I don’t mind,” Michael mumbled, not looking at his brother. “I’ve been thinking…maybe I’ll just stop singing or something…”

Marlon’s laughter had him blushing in embarrassment. “You? Stop singing?! Michael, you fucking sing in your sleep!”

“…I do?”

Marlon snickered and sat on the bed, patting his brother’s shoulder lightly. “It’s in your blood, bro. You can’t help being what you are…a born entertainer. Maybe one day, I’ll give this all up and settle down, but as for you…you were born for this stuff, Michael. The world needs you a whole lot more than it needs us.”

“I don’t…”

Marlon silenced him with a shake of his head. “No one is saying you won’t eventually settle down and find a wife, but…right now…you’re just seventeen, bro. Love, sex…the whole thing is new and exciting and great, but you’ve got to think further down the road, man. You can have Stacy as a friend for now…going all the way is another matter altogether. Give it a few more years and if by the time you’re twenty-five and you still think she’s the light of your life…what the hell? Go for it, eh?”

Michael nodded slowly. “She’s still mad at me though…”

“What do you mean?”

“She hung up on me the last time I tried to speak to her…at least it seemed that way.”

Michael moaned and covered his face. “I have to know, Marlon. I can’t move on if I don’t see her or at least hear her voice again. At least if she rejects me in person, then I know that’s all done. What am I gonna do? I’m going out of my mind…”

Marlon stared at the lowered head for a long time, feeling his heart stir at how desolate and miserable his brother seemed.

“You really want to see her, don’t you?” he finally asked. All he received was a weak nod in agreement.

Marlon sighed. “Well…what’s stopping you?”

Michael lowered his hands and eyed him warily. “Is this a trick question?”

“Nope. You can go if you want. You’re good at disguises…however crappy they are. So…go to New York…take a day or two days off. We ain’t got nothin’ to do for the rest of the week and I’ll cover up for you.”

Michael’s heart beat quickened at the notion of slipping away from the watchful eyes of his father and their entourage. It was a very risky move and he might not even be able to pull it off. But the thought of seeing Stacy again…even if it was for just a few minutes, made it all plausible in his young mind. There was simply no way he was going to miss this opportunity.

“How…how are we going to do this?” he finally asked in a shaky whisper.

Marlon smirked and thumbed his nose. “Leave it all up to me, brother. I’ll take care of you.”

__


“Can’t I have seconds?” Cameron wailed as he leaned close to his older sister at the tiny dining table. “Pretty please?”

“Dey be no more,” Mama snapped impatiently, rapping his knuckles with her hand. “You gon’an wash dem dishes, boy. And den tyme for yer homewerk.”

Cameron grumbled but did as he was told, knowing better than to argue with his mother. Stacy chuckled as she noticed him making funny faces behind Mama’s back, but the tale of mothers having eyes at the back of their heads seemed to be true as Mama spun around to cuff him in warning.

“No television for you, boy,” she added, causing her son to cry out in disbelief. “Dat’s wat you git for bein’ fresh wit me. Lisa! You come sweep the room now, girlie!”

“But I’m watching the show!” came the wail from the living room.

“I don care!” Mama bellowed, storming in to turn the set off. “You sweep and when you is done, you git to yer homewerk too.”

Stacy rose to her feet to help clean up as best she could. When she was done, she fixed the hat on her head and straightened out the pink and white uniform for the grocery store. She was working the evening shift today and was running a bit late as it was.

“You is gat your umbrella?” Mama asked as she watched her daughter get ready.

“Right here, Mama.” She patted the large black umbrella and then sighed as she stared out the window at the pouring rain. “Don’t know when it’s gonna stop. It’s been rainng for almost a week now.”

“Is a good sign,” Mama said with a cryptic smile on her features. “You fin a good man today, eh?”

Stacy blushed. “What are you talking about?”

“Mama knows, honey. Mama knows,” was all she received as she watched her mother walk into her bedroom now singing a native song as loud as she could.

Rolling her eyes at her mother’s sometimes eccentric nature, Stacy left the apartment and opened up the umbrella immediately as a sudden gust of wind and rain almost knocked her off her feet. Her jacket was barely warm enough to prevent the cold from seeping into her bones, and she had to walk fast, skipping over puddles and miniature lakes that had formed on the streets.

In the past few months, she had fallen in love with Wakefield and the colorful neighbors that surrounded her. Many knew her by name and there were evenings when she’d take the time to visit most of them, sitting outside on their porches as they sang or listened to tales from the older generation. The money she made from her job was being saved for a new place of her own. Although she had insisted on giving Mama half of her paycheck, her mother had refused, insisting that Stacy save every dime for herself.

Stacy was already eyeing an apartment that wasn’t too far from her mother’s. The rent was cheap, but the room quite small. She’d have to share a bathroom with the rest of the floor occupants, but at least she could have a place to call her own. She couldn’t wait to purchase it and begin furnishing the place for her-

“Ouch! Sorry! Sorry!” she said quickly, reaching out to steady the bum she had run into. It wasn’t uncommon to see some of them loitering around the grocery store, hoping to get a spare meal from a kind customer. Unfortunately for this particular bum, he didn’t seem to really know where he was and Stacy doubted he had gotten any thing so far. The parking lot wasn’t really full today and not many customers were braving the cold weather.

“Here you go,” she said, smiling warmly as she dug into her purse for some change. “And if you wait here, I’ll find something in the back for you. I think we have some extra cans of baked beans and…”

“Stacy?”

She looked up sharply at the sound of her name, frowning and wondering how this guy knew who she was. She had never seen him before, so it wasn’t as if he might have overheard her name being called or something. He was tall…covered in a large brown trench coat, which on closer inspection, wasn’t as shabby as she had thought. On his head was a large black hat that covered his afro and he wore oversized cheap sunglasses which he was slowly lowering as he called out her name again.

“Stacy…it’s…it’s me…Michael…”

The umbrella, which she had been holding under an arm to search through her bag, dropped to the ground and rolled away with the wind. Her eyes widened, and slowly began to well with tears as she stared into those oh-so-familiar dark eyes. Her breath hitched in her throat and she took a weak step backwards, refusing to believe what she was seeing.

It couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t be real. Michael couldn’t possibly be here in the heart of the Bronx, in the pouring rain, miles away from Las Vegas. It just wasn’t humanly possible! She felt the world tilt on its axis.

“No…no…no…”

Michael took a hesitant step forward, trying hard not to pull her into an embrace that would take her breath away. He was so happy, he could cry, but he could see that she still looked shocked or frightened…or both. “Stacy…please…it’s really me…I had to see you aga…Stacy?!”

With his quick reflexes, he barely managed to catch her within his arms as she fell into a dead faint, and as he lifted her to cradle her tenderly against him, his random thought was an amused,

So much for our movie-like romantic reunion.