The Fly on the Wall flits about, ostensibly looking for food tidbits, perhaps some fine poop. As he sits still on a doughnut, he hears all transpiring in the room. Then he reports back to The Wise I.
“Mama, get me a another beer, would you?”
Tito’s mother stopped in mid-stride, turned around and fetched a beer from the fridge as her son instructed. It was nice to have the whole family together again. Too bad Michael was still feeling so poorly.
Mrs. Jackson set the beer down in front of Tito and assumed a chair next to her husband.
“How is he?” La Toya whispered.
Tito took a long swill of beer and shrugged.
“He’s been looking better. We’re still giving him that high protein drink the doctor suggested. All he does is watch “Nick at Night” TV re-runs and stare out the window.”
Another Jackson brother reached across the table, pulled the pizza box close, opened the box and pulled out a slice of the now cold pizza. A fly had landed on the pizza and the Jackson brother shooed it away with annoyance.
“Well if he doesn’t start coming around he certainly isn’t going to be able to go on no Victory Tour,” the Jackson brother said, then chomped down on the pizza. The fly that had been shooed off from its pizza feast flew over to a sideboard and sat quietly, rubbing its antennae and cleaning its wings in the warmth of a sunbeam.
“Tito do you really think the idea of a victory tour is such a good …,”
“Damn it, Mama,” Papa Jackson shouted, banging his fist on the table to startle everyone. Even the fly on the sideboard jumped from the noise.
“We’ve been over this time and time again,” Papa Jackson said, this time his voice a bit calmer. His wife, having been interrupted from once again expressing her concern over the family’s plans to rebuild Michael’s future. And his career.
“Mama,” Tito said softly, then leaned across the table and took his mother’s hand in his. “The fans love Michael. They won’t be insulted. They’re happy he was found not guilty. If we don’t spring on a “Not Guilty Victory Tour” now they’re won’t be another chance.”
Mama Jackson sniffed and pulled her hand from under Tito’s.
“No,” she said softly. “They’ll never be another chance at a ‘not guilty’ tour. Because the next time he’ll be found guilty.”
“Damn it, Mama,” Papa Jackson shouted again. He slammed his fist on the table. This time he wanted to slam his fist into his stubborn wife’s face. “There isn’t a prosecutor in America who would dare to try and take Michael to trial again. We’ve got a good thing here.” Papa Jackson stopped his tirade when he noticed the tears welling in his wife’s eyes.
“Look,” Papa Jackson addressed his wife softly, “Michael’s going to bounce back, you’ll see. He had a good scare with that trial. When he understands that there won’t be any more trials he’ll be dancing and singing again. We’ll still be living the good life.”
“No more boys?” Mama Jackson asked in a soft whisper.
All around the table eyes met over the head of the family matriarch. This was going to be difficult to handle. Tito got up from his chair and walked around the table. He got down on his knees so he could meet his mother’s eyes directly.
“Mama, we’ll use the most discretion possible,” Tito said. His mother sobbed in response and shook her head no. “Now Mama, we all know about Michael’s ‘problem’. We’ve known it for years. And we all handled it discretely and perfectly. It was only when Michael went and hired that outside security firm and that European management firm that things went to hell.”
Tito stopped for a moment to let his mother absorb his words.
“We handled Michael’s affairs just fine, Mama. Michael had a few people whisper nasty words about his family and take away his trust. But those people weren’t there every day for his trial, were they Mama? WE were there for Michael’s trial. His family. Mama, Michael understands this now. He did fire all those people, Mama. We’re back in charge.”
“But the boys,” Mama Jackson murmured. “He could go to jail. It would kill Michael to go to jail.”
Mama Jackson looked around the room and was startled by the sudden notion that not another soul at that table loved Michael like she did. Papa Jackson was about to slam his fist on the table again at his wife’s insistence that Michael might go to jail. Tito shot his father a glare that warned him not to make a ruckus.
“First, Mama, there’s not going to be any boys again for a long time,” Tito told his mother. He shifted his position to assumed a more comfortable stance and addressed his mother again. “But we all know that someday it might,” here Tito paused and pondered the correct word, “become a problem again,” Tito finished.
“But Mama we’ll deal with it,” Tito continued. “We’ll deal with it like we’ve always dealt with it. This last kid, Mama, we picked the perfect one. Whole family’s a nut case. And we were right, Mama. No one believed that pack of white niggers. Sure, it was scarey for a while. But now, Mama, we don’t have to worry anymore. Now, if we can get Michael well again, we can capitalize on this case and get Michael back out on the road. Soon he’ll have number one hits and his loyal fans will be rocking the concert halls. And if Michael gets a wandering eye again, well we’ll scout him out a kid just like the last one. ”
Tito looked closely into his mother’s guarded eyes. He thought he saw acceptance so he continued his careful explanation.
“Mama, those kids don’t suffer any. We all know Michael would never hurt those kids. And God knows we give them everything. Toys, trips, a playhouse mansion. Michael really loves those boys, Mama. He really loves them. It might be the first love some of these boys have ever known. The boys get all of this for just a gentle fondle once in a while. Mama, we keep a close eye on Michael. We make sure nothing really bad happens. Mama, no one deserves to go to jail for something as sweet as that and Mama, that jury knew it. It was win-win. The kid wins, Michael wins.”
Tito stood up and walked back to his seat.
“We all win, Mama,” Tito said, taking a long swing of his warming beer. “We all win because if any one of us had to actually get a job there ain’t a damn thing anyone of us can do. Mama, you’re getting too old to be worrying about money. We have a public relations coup here, Mama. America loves Michael, Mama. ”
Tito finished the last of the beer and toss the empty can into a nearby can. The noise from the action caused the fly on the sideboard to fly off.
“They’ll welcome the “Michael Jackson Not Guilty Victory Tour” with open arms. Then we’ll have Michael back in the saddle and we’ll all be able to breath a bit easier.”
Tito’s last statement was the last thing the fly heard as he exited through the crack in the kitchen door, the same place it came in earlier.
If you like gardens, books, birds, true crime, conservative politics, humor, cooking, pop culture gossip, American Idol, The Apprentice or grandchildren, OR any one, just some, or all of the above, Visit My Blog. Each topic is compiled in one link on the sidebar that you may pick your topic of choice.