To Have and To Hold- NEW- chapter 10

10

Authors Note: The story continues in 1997- after the birth of Michael's son.  I am sure this chapter will not win any popularity contests- but the story took me down this road and like I pointed out before: this story was never meant to be all light and fluffy. Thanks to the brave ones for hanging in there, reading, and letting me know what you thought... :) ~ E

Neverland Ranch, March1997

“I thought I would meet my new sister-in law today. Will she be around? - Michael! Michael- are you listening to me? I feel like I’m talking to myself. Prince here is paying more attention than you are…And he’s way more responsive, aren’t you, little angel?”

Michael looked up from the paper he was doodling on.  Annoyed, he crossed out the L he had adorned with flowers and- snakes? Well, that was fitting.  And maybe it wasn’t a “L” after all…maybe it was a capsized 7.

Why would Janet think she’d meet Lisa here?  Oh shoot, he really had to stop thinking of her as his wife.  She wasn’t that. She wasn’t his friend, and she wasn’t in his life.  She was nothing.  More crossing out of the capsized 7…

Amazing how much time and brain capacity was devoted to ‘nothing.’ 

Well, it was not like he could control any of that.  She was like a poison, working itself slowly out of his body. At least he was healing…or so he thought.

“Mike!.  Earth to Applehead! Where is this adorable young man’s mother?  Is she not living here?”

Why would she be living here?  Oh, right…

 Because, Michael, in the real world husbands live with the woman giving them babies.

He swallowed the little twinge of guilt.  He hated lying to Janet. Well, he wasn’t really lying to her.  Not like he had seen her in a while, so she was simply not all the way in the know about his situation.

Remember- everyone buys the little fairy tale. 

Yes, and what a fairy tale he was selling.  A loving, close-knit family.  So sweet, so in love. Perfect.  Perfect way to get diabetes.  No, the brilliant sales strategy seemed to work. Didn’t the new pictures he just had taken prove it to the world?  Debbie had been over the top happy when he had agreed to invite OK Magazine in to take exclusive pictures.  He hoped this would shut everyone up and would buy him and the baby some peace and quiet.  So far, so good.  Of course, he could still not venture anywhere without being hounded.  And there was crazy interest in his baby.  People probably wanted to see it was human- given his Dad was some kind of weirdo they liked to dehumanize.  Maybe it had been crazy of him to want to do the one thing everyone else got to do without thought: procreate. Had he doomed his child to a lifetime of being hunted like a prey?

Michael, lets really be sure we can handle all this. Think of everything having another baby would entail. Think of how crazy things will be- we have to be solid- how else can he or she ever have a chance at being normal? Look at the circus around you…

Grudgingly, he tuned out her voice.  Well, Lisa did not have the monopoly on wisdom.  Debbie had jokingly suggested that they might have to put their kids in masks when they got older- so at least when they are out without him they would not be recognized.  Maybe she was on to something.  Obviously she had not let a flimsy pretense keep her from giving him what he had longed for.  Of course…here lately it started to occur to him she maybe was not as big of a saint as he had thought.  The golden veneer revealed itself to be copper paint after all.

Recently, he had gotten a bit weary of her demands and her neediness. She had always been his sweet, good friend, but then his suspicions about her motives had started to mushroom like clouds on a muggy summer afternoon.  He really, really wished for the sun of his innocent bliss to once again chase away the ominous grey billows.  But then he’d catch a glance that was a little too calculating, a tone in her voice that was slightly too sweet, her offers to assist with his meds that at times seemed unnecessary.

Then again, maybe he was simply paranoid. Not like he was the best judge of character. If he had been, he’d have seen what Lisa had been up to. When she laughed behind his back, fucking that deadbeat loser she had been married to.  Cheating on him…betraying him. 

The pen ripped through the paper. There- the frigging ‘L’ was gone.  Too bad there was a huge hole in the paper matching the one in his heart.

“Man- you are in a mood! Thank God this little bug does not have your ‘tude. Look, he just smiled at me…”

His sister’s mention of his son brightened his outlook slightly. Yes, there it was. The reason it was all worth it.  Debbie had come through for him, when Lisa had stalled.  In the end, taking her up on her offer had proven to be the right thing to do. 

Yes, and all it had cost you was the woman you swore to love and honor.

So? Not like she had been honest. She had slept with Danny.

After the divorce was final.

It didn’t matter. She had fucked around- had driven the knife in and twisted it. What had he done to deserve this? He had not betrayed her.  He had simply been creative.

Keep telling yourself making a baby with another woman while being married was ok…maybe one day you’ll buy it.

There was nothing in his vows that had said he could not try to inseminate another woman if his wife refused to see reason.  He wasn’t sleeping with Debbie.  It had all been very clinical.  Lisa even had told him to go ahead.  Sure, he knew she had been sarcastic- trying to force him to change his plans.  Well, it was not the last time she would find out that he would not be coerced.  She could not manipulate him and she could not play him. He was too smart and if he had learned anything it was how to call a bluff. 

Waiting, he prepared for the adrenaline rush usually following that line of reasoning.  Instead- he felt like a deflated hot-air balloon.  Odd…

Instead of injured pride and justified anger he suddenly realized all that was left was intense sadness. Where had all the fury, all the ice-cold hatred gone?  When did they evaporate under the fire of his loneliness? What did he have left to keep him forging ahead now? 

Michael swallowed hard, forcing himself to direct his attention to his sister holding the only reason for living- his wonderful, amazing baby-boy. So, what if he cried almost every night, longing for someone to share this miracle with?  Longing to talk to Lisa about every smile, every cry, every dirty diaper, every drool. Longing for the woman he had always envisioned as the mother of his children. 

Try as he might he could not forget her.  Oh, he had tried.  He had stopped talking about her, forced himself to stop looking at their pictures, listening to the messages he had saved on his voicemail. Heck, he even had held on to some of those annoying sticky notes she had written him.  And while he continued to carry one folded up with him- he had finally succeeded to not look at it every day.

Every other day had to suffice. 

In the end, his conscious efforts had almost been successful.  Of course, there was not much he could do to stop the endless dreams.  Initially, he had thought the bad dreams about their fights were the worst.  But gosh- he had been so wrong: it was those happy ones that tortured him.  The images of him and Lisa laughing, watching tv, fooling around, being silly, kissing, making love.  Those were the materials his torture devices were made of.  Those were the dire breathing demons forcing him to turn to chemical helpers to erase any natural processes opening the gates of his own personal hell.

Michael swallowed hard.  He crumbled the piece of paper up and threw it into a corner.  His sister raised an eye-brow and then watched him carefully.

“Mike, you ok?”

“Of course.  Let me see my special boy.  Are you smiling at auntie Dunk?  What a good baby…”

He plopped himself down next to Janet and touched the peachfuzz that was the little miracle’s cheeks.  Intense love and joy rushed though him and warmed his frozen veins. This was all he needed, wasn’t it? 

“He’s probably happy to not see your sour mug all day long.”

“He probably had gas, Dunk.  I have you know he loves to chill with his daddy.”

The word alone still gave him chills racing up and down his spine. He was Daddy now…

“So- where is his mother? Or does she enjoy your company less and has already bailed?”

Michael hated that line of questioning.  He also hated it when Debbie was referred to as the baby’s mother. He was the father.  Prince had everything he needed. And Debbie was the only one who seemed to understand she was not required to form a maternal bond with his child.   

“She’s around.”

Michael touched Prince’s cheek who immediately went after his finger.  The little man was always hungry again. 

“Looks like someone is ready to be fed.”

Which would give him a perfect escape from his nosey sibling.

“Oh, you’re breastfeeding him, too? Quite the one man show, Mike.”

“Oh, look at your aunt- she is so silly, isn’t she? Let’s just hope one day she will have your cousins and will know what to do with them…”

“So, will I meet the new Mrs Jackson?”

Sighing, Michael got up, walking around the room, humming to Prince, trying to tune out his sister. This was why he had limited family visits.  He was so sick and tired of questions- and the judgments he perceived mixed with the innocent words.  Mother had also already subjected him to her very gentle interrogation. But there was definitely an ulterior motive to asking Janet over to visit her nephew. 

“She is not exactly new.  I’ve been…ah..married since….ah…well…whenever it was…a while…”

Too long.  Just like it had been too long since he had seen Lisa…which was the same sad occasion… And he and Debbie were hooked together for quite a while longer. One miracle down…at least one more to go.  A sound investment. 

Janet laughed.

“Wow- you really are into this, aren’t ch’a?  The glowing, love-struck husband.”

“Yeah, something like that…”

To get away from his sisters x-ray gaze, he sauntered out of the room to find the nanny and the next bottle for the baby.  After he fed and changed Prince, he rocked him to sleep and finally put him down for a nap.  Janet had been more or less restrained, watching him, just making small talk.

After they made it out of the nursery, she grabbed his arm.

“So, will you finally cut the bull and tell me what the heck is up with you?  You got it all- I thought you’d be jumping out of your skin for joy.  You’re a happy newlywed, or so the caption under those pictures said last week, you have your son- why do you look as if someone cut your heart out?”

Maybe because it was the truth? How did she figure this out though so quickly?

That was one thing he had forgotten. So used to masking all his emotions, there were select people left on this planet who had super-power goggles to look behind his perfectly crafted exterior. Which is why he often eliminated those people.  It was great to be understood.  The trouble was people who understood you in good times, were likely to eviscerate you with the sharp blade of their knowledge in bad times. Experience had taught him it was better to be alone and safe than to delude yourself into thinking there were people who actually cared.  When in reality, all those parasites wanted was to gather information to hurt him later.  At one time, he had happily taken that chance. But in the end, it had come back to hurt him.  And the last time had been agony. 

From now on, the strategy was easy: give select people select information.  Keep each keeper of puzzle pieces away from the other- that way, the full image would never be discovered and not one person would possess the key to his destruction.  The price was easy- something he was used to: lonely misery.  Well, not all that lonely anymore. He had a son now.

“Not sure what you mean, Janet.”

“Well, the very fact you called me by my name is setting off all kinds of bells and whistles. What’s up, Mike?  I mean, it was so great to get your call, and I am thrilled to meet my nephew. But obviously, you are keeping the little woman away from here- and you look about as happy as a man forced to shovel shit.  So- I assume there is another reason I am here…Especially, since it’s not like you’ve been in touch much.”

“Yeah, about that…sorry.  I mean, you know I’ve been touring and things have been crazy with the baby and all…so…yeah… I really appreciate you coming out, though.”

He plopped himself into his couch and turned on the tv, starting to surf through channels.  Janet took a seat next to him and seemed much more interested in watching him than the screen. 

The questions burned on his tongue like fire.  What the hell?  Why not just come out and asked her?  Didn’t really matter what she’d think?

Which is not what’s bothering you, right, Mike? What’s bothering you is that you wanna know at all.  Not as ‘cut-off’ from it all as you like to tell yourself, hum?

“So…I hear you’ve been hanging out with some..you know… old friends of ours…you been seen with some people we know and ….ah…”

Janet stared at him slightly lost, then understanding dawned.  He had to give her credit. She tried really hard to suppress a smirk.

“Ah…I see now… Old friends?  Like Lisa?”

Her name alone send his heart rate into the stratosphere.  Which was because he was still upset with her- surely there was nothing else behind this.

Thankfully his gaze was anchored to the cartoon before him.  He had after all, never seen the Roadrunner trick the Wiley Coyote in that way before…Mesmerizing!

“For example…”

“You know, it’s funny, you mention her.  I found out recently she was in Australia the same time you were out there.  How odd is that?”

“Yeah…weird coincidence.”

“Did you run into her there, by chance?”

Once or twice, naked…

He swallowed and forced the heavy curtain to fall on the memories. Too bad, the screen was made from the finest, most translucent silk…

So, no wonder he felt himself encased in her body, felt her moving against him, heard her moan his name into his ear…

“It’s a big continent, you know.”

“Sure is.  Just wondered because she seemed to be going through something for a while. Then, she got back in touch with Rebbie and me in January or so.  Out of the blue, after she seemed to have fallen off the planet.”

Ok, that was news. He knew she had been seen with Janet.  But his older sister as well? And he knew his mother was in on something, too. Why was she monopolizing his family? Her own not dysfunctional enough?

Really, it was not all that surprising… After all, shortly before Prince’s birth he had received a letter from her.  Delivered to him by Katherine. Basically, Lisa had been begging him for forgiveness. It had all been very odd- not like Lisa at all. She asked him to start over again- saying she understood his motivations to marry Debbie and to have the baby. And she wanted to start over- have his children, be a mother to his child and many more. 

He remembered holding the damn thing in his hand, trembling…Breathing had been difficult and he felt engulfed by smoke, making his eyes water, his vision distort. What kind of mind fuck was she out to bestow on him now? The emotions cursing through him in whirlwinds left him exhausted.  It was difficult to pinpoint if he was surprised, saddened, enraged…finally, he picked the safest option: intense, indignant anger.  How dared she! She put him through hell.  She lied, broke her promise, and forced him to take Debbie up on her offer.  The, she gave him hope, lulled him into false security- only to stab him with her truth.  Of course, he should be happy she had finally admitted to being the slut everyone always told him she was.

Finally- he deserved the truth, didn’t he?

Only, there was this little voice that screamed out that he really, really did not want to hear the words out loud.  Oh, he had secretly fought certain hunches and his antennae had been on reception about the odd vibes.  But then to hear her words.  Right after they made love…The pressure wave of the explosion almost had knocked him on his ass.  Thankfully, none of that showed until she had left the suite that day. It was her fault entirely he trashed the damn bedroom.  The scene of the crime.  Before he donned his make-up and hid behind the persona expected to be at the short film premiere with his wife.

 His rational brain knew she didn’t technically cheat- but his heart, his pride, his very soul damned her to hell for causing him to have to face the ugly truth head on. It would have been so easy to float in the sea of denial.  Sure- he had long been suspicious of Danny. But really- Lisa knew better. Did she really want to go back to slumming with that prick?  Why eat left over hamburger after you had premium steak? She said she had been hurt… Well, he had been fucking hurt, too, when he got those damn papers in the mail.  He knew she was playing a dangerous game- and he was damned if he was going to do things by her rules. She wanted a fucking divorce?  Fine- he had been tired of the fighting and the warfare in his own home. He was more than ready to pick up the gauntlet.  

Then- she was hurt?  Surprised that he signed?  So fucking upset she had to drink herself into a coma and stumble on the little prick?  Literally… It was sickening!

So, no- a letter was not going to fix things.  Not after the things her actions had made him do.

“You know she gave mother a letter for me a while back?”

“Oh, so you got it…”

“So, you know about it.” He shot his sister an accusatory look. Was she betraying him now, too?

“I just know she was pretty mad at herself for writing it.  She went to get it back from mother- but she said she’d already given it to you.”

Which would explain the voicemail.

“Michael- I know your mother gave you a letter. I hope to God you threw it out and never read it.  I don’t know what I was thinking.  I was upset…drunk.  Well, you know by now I do crazy things when I get like that. I’m sorry if I upset you- with the letter, I mean…and…ah…everything else.  Anyway…I guess they say drunks say the truth…so..whatever. I just wanna let you know…shit…not sure what.  I hope you’re happy.  You deserve to be.  And I never deserved you- so guess we both got our just desert after all. Fucked up though that I seem to know now why you could never love me…when that’s all I ever wanted.  Shit- I better go. I love you- don’t laugh- and if you believe nothing else. Believe that. And that I am so fucking horrible sorry…for everything.”

“Yeah.I got that. It wasn’t like her…at all…”

Neither was the voicemail.  Something was very off about her voice, her tone.  Internal alarm bells went off- and he silenced them, calling himself a sappy idiot.  Still, he almost called her…and then Debbie went into labor and everything else was pushed to the background.

“What you mean?”

“She apologized.”

Janet’s laughter startled him.

“She apologized? For what?”

His eyes narrowed. 

“For stuff.  Why do you say it that way?”

“Ok, you probably gonna kick me out- but you know what? I’m not gonna walk around you on eggshells.  What did she have to apologize for?”

For lying, for cheating, for…for…for making him fall in love with her.

“Why do you women always stick together?  She filed for divorce, Dunk. She hurt me- she walked out on me. She…” He shook his head….  “Never mind…” Some things did not have to be shared. No matter what.

“Correct me if I’m wrong. But from what I hear, you started eyeing alternatives while you were married. Don’t play the saint with me, Mike. I know better.”

Blood cursed through his veins, making him feel like exploding.

“I never cheated on Lisa. Never.  So, how dare she tell you I did?”

“She didn’t.  And that’s not what I mean. I meant an alternative for having children, Michael.  Do you really think those of us close to you buy the whole ‘I’m happily married to the mother of my son’-bullshit?”

“Well, I am married to Debbie.  She came through for me. It is a legal marriage,- you better believe it.”

Quickly, he swallowed the rising bile, fighting the nauseous wave before it buried him again. Oh yeah, that marriage was legal.  No one could contest it- and Deb couldn’t pull a fast one and file for annulment and custody.

“I don’t know why you have to work so hard to sell this to me. I never said it wasn’t a legal marriage. But do you know what all of this did to Lisa?  You made her feel like shit because she could not give you a child right away. You tried to force her when she wasn’t ready. You made her feel disposable- like if one wife wouldn’t do you’d simply upgrade to the model with the warm oven.”

He was really getting pissed now. 

“I didn’t  force her to do shit. But speaking of forcing- she tried to force my hand by threatening to divorce me. Well, the days where people can force me to do shit are over.  And she, of all people, should have known that.”

“Ok, whatever. I don’t wanna go over all this again. You know where I stand on this.”

“Yeah,- on her side.  Not on your brother’s side. Thanks a bunch.”

He leaned back and crossed his arms across his chest.

“Oh, cut it out!  I don’t buy the victim act, either. So, if you hate her so much, why are you asking me here to find out if I’m seeing her?”

“I never said I hate her.”

But he had. He had hated her with such crazy, irrational intensity; it almost made him ignore the flip side of the coin- which bore the insignia of his love. Damn her to hell for it, too!

Janet reached out and touched his arm.

“Mike. I love you.  I know you’re in pain. You can’t hide that. Not from me. Don’t get me wrong: when you look at that baby- you light up in a way I have never seen. Then, when he’s not in your arms, it is like the shutters are thrown closed and you look so lonely- so lost… I hate seeing you like this. And then I see Lisa..and…I see the same thing going on with her…only worse…She don’t have your iron core, Mike…”

Janet bit her lip as if she was afraid she had said too much. She hardly ever fell back into their bad childhood bad grammar. What was going on here?  Had he been right?  Were the feelings and flashes of images more than simply brain cells misfiring? He had suffered from these odd nightmares the last  couple of weeks…a feeling that Lisa was in danger…he heard her calling out for him- and he always was so close to getting to her- only to wake up, bathed in sweat and tears. Sure, he had in the past had what some might call premonitions.  His mother had always called it ‘God communicating His plan to select angels.’  Michael didn’t like to think that way- as he really didn’t like to see himself as someone favored or special. Blessed sure- but not favored. Surely other people got those flashes of emotions, insights, thoughts… At times the fractured mirror shards supplied warm comfort- other times they cut him to the core and frightened him. 

Mother’s voice again echoed in his mind.

“You are so blessed my son- and I fear with that comes its own curse.  My heart bleeds for you and I worry about you with every breath I take...”

As of late, he had come to fully appreciate the meaning of her words. So what if the images were warnings…callings to be there for someone. Could he ignore such a call? And what would heading them cost him? Seemed he was damned either way.

“What do you mean, worse? What’s going on? Is she ok? Is she sick?”

And why the hell did he care?

Because that’s the kind of person he was.  It was simple.  He cared. That was all.

“Not sure what’s going on with her, really, Mike.  One moment we are out and she seems to be living it up. The life of every party.  Then – I don’t see her for a while, and I can’t get through.  Her handlers and her family keep her under wraps…she spent a bunch of time at those retreats…” Janet made a face conveying his exact feelings for that cult Lisa was part of.  Sorry, the ‘church.’

“Well, she is a member of that ..ah..organization. Guess they got her into it more since…since she is free and not under my evil spell.”

“I hear rumors, and you know me- I normally don’t listen to shit, Mike. But in this case…I worry.  The stuff I hear is really….out there..even for Lisa.”

“Out there, how…” 

Suddenly the tv lost all appeal and he switched it off.  Needing to fully focus on Janet’s words- the tone of her voice, the deep concern in her eyes.  He needed to get the full picture of what the fuck was happening here.  If they had hurt her…. If those lunatics had somehow made her suffer…

What, Mike?  You’re the only one allowed to hurt her?  To make her suffer?

When had his subconscious accepted the possibility that indeed he had caused her any amount of suffering?  Was the old fortress of justification and denial suddenly being weakened by the steady dripping of his bleeding heart? Was the bloodletting so steady and slow that he had not fully appreciated the severity of the festering wound? Was that why he was weakened? Drained of all energy and zest for life- at a time when all his dreams were coming true?

“Ok, these are rumors, ok… So, they might be nothing. Or they might be exaggerated… I would talk to her about them- but she was off the radar again since…well, really since your family pictures were published.”

His hands clasped together in his lap, trying to contain some process unfolding inside.  Some hot, scorching laser cut the ice bands around his heart, inflicting collateral damage in a tissue he had thought to be free of nerve-endings.  No, he needed to calm down- Janet just said, all she heard were rumors. 

“Ok….so tell me.  What’s the buzz out there…”

His voice sounded as if he had been screaming into a blizzared.  Maybe he had been…ancient, silent, deafening cries…

No, he had to keep it real.  Maybe this was simply about Lisa boozing it up, shagging up with every loser crossing her path. 

“So, one source told me she was found in her bathroom a while back, pretty much out of it, had written stuff all over her arms…”

“Like what?”

“That she was ugly… that no one loved her…”

Michael swallowed.  No, people must have gotten this wrong.  Lisa was one of the strongest people he knew.  She would not simply fall apart like that… She was also one of the most beautiful women he knew.  Yes, she had low self-esteem at times as he had discovered, but come on…She wasn’t crazy like that. 

When the words Lisa had supposedly written on herself flashed across the white canvas of his mind in blood red spray paint, he almost jumped up and out of the couch.  And his skin.  Jesus! His overactive imagination was getting to him.

“Do you believe it?”

“Not sure, Mike. She hasn’t been herself.  Too giddy. Too happy.  Too focused on letting me know she is alright and has moved on. All the while pumping me for info about you…”

“Say what?”

“Well, maybe not pumping me. But asking…If I saw the baby.  If I saw you… Saw Debbie around much…If you guys were together for real…”

Why would she think Debbie was around much?  Oh, that’s right…because he had done something he was not proud of now.  Which actually was an understatement:  It was more like something filling him with deep, burning shame now…He had been forced to look down the dark, musty, threatening abyss of his soul. That murky part he kept locked away- even from himself at times.  But he had been in pain- had once again been forced to do something to satisfy some man- written, idiotic law.  When he had sworn, on his life, that he would never, ever be coerced to so something to preserve rights which should be his to begin with.  When his tears had dried, and the nausea had subsided, allowing him to breathe again- his rage had once again turned against Lisa.  After all- if she had only consented to what she had promised all along he would never have been forced into any of this.

No, he could only deal with one demon at a time. And Janet sounded as if she was not done.

“How come I feel there is more, Dunk?”

“Probably ‘cause there’s more.  This is news I just heard.  I talked to her last week- then your pictures hit.  And…she was unreachable again.  She had just told me she was finally getting stronger- she was drinking some weird ass herbal brew.  Said it was cleansing her.  One day- I dropped by her house and her eyes were all red and swollen- she said she used this tonic to cleanser her eyes.  Mike- these people are into some weird shit, I swear.  I tried to talk to her, but she insisted they know what’s good for her.  And of course, since her mother was there, I didn’t push it…”

The cold fist in his gut twisted his insides. What in the world were they doing to his girl? What was she allowing them to do? 

What did you make her do…?

No, he did not make her do anything. She was in charge of her own actions.  Not his fault…

What, not your fault Debbie bestowed the happy news of marital bliss on her, right?  You didn’t do anything to unleash that? 

Michael took a deep breath and forced himself to endure the images his sister’s words branded into his heart. 

May 1997, Paris France

Michael sat in the rocking chair, softly singing to Prince.  It looked like the little man was finally asleep.  Poor little guy had been fussy and according to the nanny difficult to deal with.  Not that he minded …he would happily sit here all night with his son. And all day, too. Flying  in tonight, he had headed straight to what he called his headquarter in Paris during the European leg of the tour.  Here, he would be allowed to spend as much time with his little sunshine as possible.  The pediatrician had advised against objecting the three month old baby to too many trips, but he felt he simply could not survive without him. So, for now- he would use the hours he would otherwise spent awake and tortured or in some drug induced, comatose sleep to fly to see his baby boy. 

Paris was chosen for its central location.  Of course, it also held huge sentimental value for him.  How he had loved seeing it while being surrounded by the blue light of those sparkling eyes. 

Don’t! Don’t think about her again.  You know what it causes.  You need to stay away from her.  Even in your thoughts.  That, and that alone will keep you sane- and keep her safe.

After Janet had told him about the rumors that Lisa had been found on her bathroom floor in a puddle of her own blood, having torn herself to shreds in some sort of self-inflicted castigation, he had attempted to move heaven and hell to find out what was really going on.  He started to research self-injurious behavior, hoping what he’d find would rule out any such action.  He knew Lisa after all…and this was so totally out there. 

What he read did nothing to calm his nerves or his fears.  Was she really in that much pain that inflicting physical agony was the only way to stop her from hurting?  He read those cuts most often were not aimed at suicide, but were instead a call for help.  She had people around her- why were they all deaf to her needs?

He also started to go over every argument, every confrontation, every at the time meaningless exchange they had ever had with a fine-tooth comb.  How in the world had he missed the signs of how deep her grief and sadness ran?  Was he too focused on his own internal experience to see what had been right infront of him?  He had loved her so completely and deeply- but how much did he really know about what was going on inside that gorgeous head?  His art always required to focus on the emotions and flashes he received and how he processed them.  Had that intense focus directed on his inner experiences and their artful manifestations made her somehow feel ignored?  No, he knew he had told her on numerous occasions in millions of actions and words how much he loved her.  Her words about  feeling like a piece of furniture pierced his eardrum with their atonal impact and he cringed.

How had things gone from him worshiping her to her feeling ugly and unloved?  Why had she not been able to understand that his wish to have a child with her was simply an extension of his love?

He was this close to putting it all together.  He even had considered going to see her- find out from the source what the hell she had been doing- and if he was the reason.

Then the call came.  He almost dropped the phone when he heard his former mother in law on the line.  In her usual irritating, superior manner, she informed him she had been made aware that he was making certain inquiries about Lisa.  Michael neither acknowledged or denied.  This was not any of the witches’ business.

“Michael- I ask this of you and please do not take this lightly. You surely must know that asking anything of you is like eating a bag of worms to me.”

Well, yeah, he knew things must be pretty bad if she called him…so he heard her out.

“Lisa Marie is trying to move on with her life. Whatever you heard, let me assure you she is fine. She is recovering.  She has me, and she has her children, her friends.  Her real friends. I don’t know what went down with you two after the divorce. All I know is that your lovely wife met with her in early February- and Lisa has not been the same since.  Whatever it was- she is now coming around. The last thing she needs is you asking about her.  So, as much as I hate to do this, I beg you: Please leave her alone.  You have your new family.  If you ever cared about her- let her heal. You’ve done enough.”

God how he hated to listen to her. And hated even more that he agreed with her. For the first time ever.

All his life, he had been told, and deeply believed that hatred was wrong.  This belief had been tested by the Chandlers, and by the people subjecting him to the nightmare of the strip-search.  Lisa had been his lifeline to love and to light.  She helped him heal.  Then, the constant interferences of her mother once again tested his ability to hold back hatred and disgust.  Now, listening to her, the old feelings had crawled from their ugly, slimy rock again.

But even so- he suspected for once, Priscilla was right.  He knew full well what had set Lisa off.  Oh, he had not suggested for Debbie to go and fill Lisa in on some truths he wanted her to hear.  That would have been so horribly childish.  Downright cruel.  And yet, in his dark hours when he faced down the monster in the mirror, when that cold, selfish part he hated and abhorred broke through, he wanted her to suffer.  She had hurt him, had betrayed him- and he needed her to know that he also could move on.  Move on for real this time.  She had felt she needed to unburden herself by delighting him with her truth about Danny.  Well, maybe she was right- and it was his turn to share some confessions.

So, when Debbie had seen some pictures about Lisa’s birthday party- showing her dancing her ass off in some ridiculously small shirt, he remarked that he might drive into town. 

“For what?  To jump into bed with that little whore again?  Why Michael?  Why they hell would you do that?  I swear, if you can’t stay away from her I will make sure my lawyers hear about the stunt you pulled in Australia.  Don’t think I buy the crap about y’ all just talking for two nights straight. In your bedroom.”

“What if she invited me, Deb? As a friend?  A friend with a  fake marriage per se… Not my fault if she still seems to think there is hope.”

“Well, maybe it’s time the little Princess face the truth that our marriage is very real. Maybe then she will leave us alone.”

“Maybe…”

Such a small word… Such humongous repercussions.

It had been a lie, of course.  Lisa had not invited him and he had zero intentions to drive anywhere near her.  The truth was his insomnia had taken on incredible proportions, keeping him from rehearsing, from functioning… And when he laid there at night, running events over and over in his tired mind, grinding sanity to a thin powder, it occurred to him that everything had gone downhill after Australia.  Lisa had broken his heart. And Debbie had started to make waves about the legality of their marriage.  When he reminded her over and over, like a broken record, they had a contract, she started to respond with ‘we’ll see about that, Michael.’

“What do you mean, by that?  You signed the contract. Debbie.  It’s legal.  You are being paid.  And besides that- you offered.  This was all your idea.”

“Oh yeah. Let’s take it to the test, Michael. If I tell a judge my husband fucked his ex-wife on our supposed wedding night while our marriage was never consummated… If I filed for annulment and for custody of my child, who would you think would win?  The poor little nurse, the friend who has always been there for you, the woman forced to sign a contract, or you- the rich, powerful superstar with the image problem?”

“Why don’t you try it, Deb?  Try me.  I will tie you up in court so long you will be on welfare by the time you get anywhere near where you wanna be.” 

He remembered the cold glint in her eyes, the calculation he had not spotted before.  And he decided to change strategy, looking at her, forcing tears of anger to fake sadness.

“Why would you do this to me?  You are my dearest friend.  You gave me the most wonderful present- why are you turning on me?  Like they all do?  Why, Debbie- can’t you see I love you?”

That did the trick.  She hugged him and assured him she was simply speaking because it hurt her so deeply to find Lisa Marie with him that day.  That she loved him…And suddenly, it dawned on him that the love he talked about and the love she referred two were oceans apart.  And maybe, just maybe he could use that fact to his advantage somehow.  It wasn’t pretty- but he was not giving up his child. Ever.

A meeting with his lawyers did nothing to soothe his anxieties.  As a matter of fact, his worse fears were confirmed.  Despite the contract- if Debbie indeed decided to make waves about the surrogacy and marriage contract, if she cited infidelity and an unconsumed marriage, his lawyer could not guarantee that he would not lose custody of his son. And that simply was not going to happen.

There was something Debbie wanted almost as much as he wanted his child.

So, somehow he made himself go through with it.  Thankfully, he didn’t remember much of the whole thing.  He had loaded up on anti-anxiety meds and alcohol,  and pretended it was all a bad dream.  Nature took over, while the rest of him disengaged. He had heard of extreme cases of strain when people simply step away from themselves in some kind of dissociative state. Similar to when Native Americans endured the tortures of the sun-dance in a spiritual quest.  Well, he was on his own spiritual quest.  He would have custody of his son. Otherwise, everything, all the heartbreak, all the agony would have been for nothing.  And he would have the means to hold Debbie to fulfill her part of the deal: More children. 

Somehow he had made it into his own bed that night.  Actually, just onto his couch- as he was not able to climb the stairs to his bedroom.  He woke up, nauseous and disoriented, his head killing him, and found the bathroom just in time. Not since that dreadful day in December of 1993 had he experienced anything close to the self-hatred and shame rushing through him.  Rinsing his face, he stared into the mirror, facing his red eyes, his tears… This was a battle and he had won.  That was all.  He had ensured full and indisputable rights to his son.  It was all worth it- once he’d hold his children, all this would be nothing but a bad nightmare. 

Too bad said nightmare kept him from sleeping- and he slowly but surely talked himself into fully believing that it was all Lisa’s fault.  She had denied him a child. She had lied. She had told him flat out to go and take Debbie up on her offer. Then, she had come out to Australia- had angered Debbie by basically rubbing it into her face that they had made love.  All for nothing- as behind his back, she was probably laughing her ass off, making fun of him, while cavorting with Danny.  That little whore.  Plus, her being around that day really had pissed Debbie off- had caused her to threaten him, had caused him to have to sleep with her. So yeah, if Lisa happened to hear somehow that he indeed had real marriage with Debbie now, it would serve her right.  It was the most just desert he could think of in his sleep-deprived, half psychotic state.

Debbie of course was very chipper when she informed him per phone she had ‘accidentally’ run into Lisa.  His heart sank immediately.  What was that about unleashing the dogs of hell, only to wish for the power to summon them back to their cages? When he asked her what happened, she informed him that everything was just fine. But that she was sure Lisa would mind her own business from now on.  He  chose to not further investigate.  Chose to mollify his guilt by rationalizing that Debbie probably was simply bluffing. Lisa hadn’t called in a fit of anger- so, if Debbie really had spilled the beans, Lisa probably had laughed right in her face.

Of course, now having the full story after assembling the puzzle pieces supplied by Janet, his other sources, and Priscilla, he knew better. Suddenly, holding his innocent baby son, he understood with glaring clarity that he and Lisa had been caught into some sort of hellish, destructive cycle.  Every action had caused a reaction, which in turn had kick started another avalanche – burying them both in the end. 

Ever so gently, Michael kissed Prince, inhaled his wonderful, magical baby scent, and started to place him in his crib.  In mid-action, he stopped, changing his mind, sitting back down and reclining in the chair, letting the baby sleep on his chest. Just another moment longer…. He needed to hold on to the peace filling him when he rocked his son before he would enter the battleground that was his bedroom- see the dreaded bed, knowing he would be weighed down by insomnia and nightmares one more night.

At some point, he must have drifted off slightly and hovered in that hypnotic state where consciousness and dream world meet in diffuse blending of realities.  When he heard his name being called out in what sounded like a loud sob, he bounded awake, causing Prince to make a small meowing, protesting sound. 

His heart beat loudly in his chest, threatening to break through his skin and his hands felt clammy. What the hell had just happened?

Carefully, he placed the baby back into his crib.  Dizzy- he sat back down, fighting to discern and label the feeling of total complete obliteration filling him. It was as if somehow a black hole had exploded inside of his body- expanding, while sucking his life and vitality into its boundless infinity. There was no escape- there was only pain and panic.  And the worst of it was that he was unable to pinpoint where it hurt or what he feared.

The voice…

Lisa’s voice…

Calling out in absolute anguish.

Calling him…

God- he was in worse shape than he had thought. It was probably time to once again call in his doctor team. He had tried, had resisted…but he needed to sleep. His grip on reality was slipping and he had shows to do. His fans depended on him.  He could not be sick.  He hated letting them down.

Ok, one more deep breath. C’mon man, you can do this. Stop being a psycho wimp.  It was simply a nightmare.

Only he had not been asleep. How could he dream when barely out?

No, people thought all the time they were not asleep when really they were gone. It was probably one of those hypnogogic hallucinations that occurred between being awake and asleep. 

It took about five minutes for him to fight down the shaking and dizziness.  Checking on Prince one more time, he left the room, heading for his bedroom.  Noticing his phone, he saw the missed calls indicator was on, but he simply did not have the resources to worry about returning calls now.  He’d do that later.

First, he needed to take some anti-anxiety meds to help him fight the newly rising panic sensation.  He simply had no idea what was going on- but tonight, he would surrender to the need for medication- knowing that the nanny was nearby, watching over Prince. 

When he woke the next day, his head was hurting as always after taking chemical helpers.  It was an uneasy trade off- sleep for headaches and drowsiness in the morning.  That, plus he wondered if the fitful, nightmare driving state calling itself sleep was really all that preferable to simply being up and working. He could not pinpoint any one dream, but he knew it had all been about Lisa trying to tell him something.  This was not fair. He had promised to leave her alone- why was she still hounding him in his sleep.

You’re just that irresistible, dude…

Yeah, a look into the mirror made him chuckle at that thought. 

A quick shower made him feel slightly better and he turned on the tv, also remembering the phone messages he needed to check.  He wanted to get all that out of the way before he could devote his time to his son.  Only too soon would he have to fly off to his next concert.  And there was the matter of Debbie, who also would join him soon. Oh joy!

Dialing into his voicemail he switched from channel to channel, wondering if he would understand enough French to comprehend what was going on.  Janet’s voice and the image on tv hit at the same time.  He was almost tempted to switch the phone off, wondering what the hell an image of Lisa Marie was doing on French tv.

“Michael- this is Janet. Please call me right after you get this.  I don’t want you to hear this in the news- but Lisa Marie was taken to the hospital.  I don’t have details but I …I … hear it’s bad.  I don’t wanna scare you, but I’m pretty freaked out myself right now.”

He found himself clutching the phone as cold sweat made him regret he ever bothered with a shower.  His heart stopped beating for a second, intense pain shooting through him, before it resumed its function in some kind of exaggerated thunder expedition.  

All sensation in his legs left and his vision seemed to constrict into that one image assaulting him.  Sadly he understood enough French to read the headline:

“Lisa Marie Presley, daughter of the King of Rock n Roll, taken to hospital in apparent suicide drama.”

And just like that, all their stupid, idiotic games, all the pain, all the hurt, and all the anger shrunk into tiny insignificant fragments of dust and evaporated.  What remained was the sobering epiphany that despite everything they had said and done to each other, life for him was forever tied to the crazy, infuriating lunatic who still was, and always would be the keeper of his heart.  If she self-destructed, she’d take him with her. And he was in no mood to let her get away with this shit.  She needed him- and he would be damned if he let her down again.  If she thought she could cop out on him like this- she had another thing coming. 

(to be continued)

©2012 Erika B Michaels. All Rights Reserved. This story is a work of fiction. Any names, places, and other identifying features are used in a fictional manner, for entertainment purposes only, and are in no way representative of actual events. This work may not be reproduced, copied, transmitted, or stored without expressed written permission by Erika B Michaels. All photos and images, mentioned songs or song titles are copyright their creators. ABSOLUTELY no disrespect is intended to any persons portrayed in this work.