Book 4- 1968 (Michael Jackson)

Chapter 5- Normal Enough

                Chapter 5- Normal Enough

                Date: Thursday, March 7, 1968

                Time: 8:28PM

                JOSEPH'S POV

I clapped my hands, rubbing them together. "Well, that ends our practice tonight. I must say, most of you have done alright tonight. That is," I averted my attention to Michael, then Kayla, "you two. Y'all need some more life, more pizzazz into your parts. I can't just have Mike sloppily dancing to Sammy Davis, Jr. and Kayla being late on simple notes to Stand by Me." 

Kayla crouched down upon hearing her name. Michael, with bags sagging under his eyes like how one carries a parachute, crossed his arms. "You're so mean, Joseph. You just like to point out every little mistake that no one'll notice, huh?" He stumbled, but caught himself before hitting the floor.

I imitated Michael, folding my arms around my chest. "Yes... Yes, I am." I eyed the rest of the kids. "Who's ready for a little game?"

"A game?" Marlon whispered to himself. He narrowed his eyes, muttering, "He never lets us play..."

"What kind of a game are you thinking about?" Jackie interrogated, wearing a quizzical expression. "Hmm? Thinking 'bout making us unstack bricks again?"

"Amen," Tito breathed, hiding a smirk.

"No, smart one!" I shouted, giving Jackie the evil eye. "We're gonna be playing some... some, Musical Chairs. Yeah... Here, imma get some stools and such, and you're all gonna wait here... Except for you, Jackie."

He rolled his eyes, stepping from his spot to accompany me. "Yeah, yeah, I'll get the one from the bathroom."

"Oh, no," I replied, an idea coming to mind. "Get the bricks."

"The bricks? What do you mean by that? I shouldn't have to- Oh...."

-----

"Ready?" I asked. A little grin crept on my face as I scanned the room. I paid attention to drowsy Kayla, in particular. She mumbled a few inaudible words, but never spoke up.

"I'm gonna take that as a yes," I assumed, throwing my hands to my sides. "Ready, and... Go." I switched my voice into song mode. "All around the mulberry bush..."

Jermaine gave me an incredulous look as he circled around the bricks. "Really? You're doing this?"

"The monkey chased the weasel..."

Marlon clapped. "I can sing this, too! POP, goes-"

"Never mind!" I exclaimed. "This isn't working. How about we draw, instead? What do you think, Michael?"

"I think you're being mean," he responded slowly, his eyes drifting into a dazy state. "You're so doggone mean... all the time."

"Yeah, this isn't fair," Kayla whined, her eyes barely open. "And I'll be honest, your voice isn't that good."

I shot Kayla an incredulous look. "Pardon?"

She shook her head oddly, as if her head became too heavy for her. "No, no... I said nothing, nothing at all. You're hearing things, I bet."

"Shut up, Kayla, or I'll slap you senseless."

She straightened up. "Yes, Joseph."

"Now," I continued, "I'll get us some papers. Tito, you know where Kate's fine pencils are. You can grab them for us. I'll get some papers or something... maybe a board." I rubbed my hands together apprehensively.

"Joseph," La Toya interrupted. "I really don't think-"

"Don't question my tactics!" I screeched, motioning for her ot leave the room. She immediately obliged, a fearful look plastered to her face. I watched intensely as she scurried her lanky little body into the kitchen.

I knew exactly what she was thinking about. That one time... her report card... her screaming... her skittishness... 

I decided that she actually deserved what she got. I wasn't gonna let her get held back just because she wouldn't speak up in first grade. No, not any daughter of mine! My daughters only succeed, and if they don't then I'd take desperate measures to make sure they would never fail again.

Even though I knew that what I did was a great idea in my eyes, I felt a slight pang of guilt. It wasn't that nice of you. She was six, only six years old! 

"Michael, we need to draw more than just a few squiggly lines! I've seen you draw better." Marlon nudged Michael accusingly.

"No... I can't."

"That isn't true. What about that Charlie Chaplin picture you drew? That was pretty darn good, I think. Right, Jermaine? That was pretty darn good."

He nodded in agreement, the corners of his lips curling upward. "Yeah, it was real good, 'specially for a nine-year-old."

"I'm ten," Michael corrected. "Ten years old."

"It was last year," Tito said blankly. "That's why we said nine."

".... Oh," Michael uttered, letting one of his eyes close completely. The other one was very close to closing entirely. 

"Speaking of 'nine', I believe it has reached 9PM, at last. Joseph, I think that means Mike and Kayla can head home now. What do you think?" Rebbie sashayed into the room, one hand resting softly on her hip.

I peeked at the clock in the corner of the living room. She was right; it was well past 9PM. In fact, it was about 9:20. The fact that I kept Michael and Kayla awake, though, made me feel as though I had accomplished something major. I proved myself that I really could control them, even though they didn't want to be.

"Fine, fine," I decided. "You two can go to bed. I cave in, I do! You can sleep all you want now. Just make sure you're up for tomorrow, got it? We've got a lot of practice, and even though you're earning lots of money now, and I got my job back, we're low on cash. We better ration."

"What does ration mean?" Randy inquired, fumbling out of the bathroom. "I don't know what that means, Daddy."

"Joseph," I corrected. "And go ask Mommy."

Randy nodded fervently, a wide grin spread across his face. "Mommy...!" His voice's volume changed as he bobbed across the living room. "I got a question!"

"Anyways," I said, turning back to the band, "Kayla and Johnny can go home. Michael, you can go to bed. As for the rest of you... You're done for tonight. Better get up at 5:30 for brick restacking."

Groans could be heard from across the living room. Michael and Kayla exchanged sleepy looks before parting from one another. Kayla proceeded to stagger out of the living room, not sparing a glance at anyone else. She even forgot to close the door completely when she exited through the front door.

Jermaine volunteered to close the door. After shutting it completely, he went so far as to put locks on our door. He turned away, smirking and shaking his head.

"Alright. And Michael," I said, not bothering to turn in his direction, "as I said, you can head back to bed. But you need to remember that-"

"Joe," Marlon  interrupted. "Um, Joe? Michael's already hit the sack."

"Already?" I questioned, turning around. 

"Yeah, he's been gone since Kayla first tried making her way out. He wanted to bed really badly," he explained.

Sure enough, when I turned back around to check on Michael, all I saw was a cold, hard, wooden floor. The only way I even knew that Michael was there before was a stray pencil on the floor. I sauntered to his spot and picked up the pointy object, sighing.

Did I really win in this situation?