Authors: Steven Slavick
W
earing a red overcoat unbuttoned at the throat, allowing a puffy white
scarf-like article of clothing to stretch toward his sternum,
Mozart
gestured to Jackson, who
motioned to his band-mates to end “Purple Haze.” Jackson
shouted into the microphone, “All Aboard: ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha
.
” Then Cliff Burton hit a number of ominous sounding bass beats
in time with John Bonham’s drums
before Randy Rhodes played the opening riffs of the song
, Crazy Train, an Ozzy Osbourne
staple
that played
during
every
NFL
game.
But Jackson didn’t launch into Osbourne’s l
yrics. Instead, he sliced a hand through the air
,
stopping the song
.
Then
he
deferred to Mozart
, who signaled the guitarists to begin playing.
They ripped into the opening chords of Jackson’s song, “Black or White.” Soon the drums and bass held up the rhythm section. Then Mozart led the orchestra into a grand rendition, lifting the tune beyond a simple song and into a major atmospheric masterpiece.
The audience clapped along while dancing in place with each other. Oth
ers held hands side-by-side
or
had
strung their arms around each other’s shoulders and swayed to the music, giant smiles on their faces as they sang along to a world with
out color and without prejudice.
But
soon, by the way the crowd celebrated with delight, it became obvious that the song had
overshadowed Jackson’s original intent and had included other social ills: equality among men and women and equality among each country: their leaders and their constituents.
Before Nick
ev
en had time to think about it,
he found
that
he had joined hands
with Nina
.
H
e didn’t know who had initiated contact and it didn’
t matter. H
e just assumed that they must have gravitated toward each other by some cosmic force, the same one that had uni
ted everyone else around them. H
e was touched b
y the same amazing sensation
he’d experienced whi
le on the dance floor with Nina
; that they shared a bond that went beyond wo
rds and mere physical affection:
this was a soul connection
.
He looked over to
find her smiling at him. “What?”
“I thought you
said that Michael was just okay.
”
“I did
.”
“Then why are you dancing to his music?”
Just as he was about to deny that claim, he
looked dow
n to find his legs and hips moving to the beat
. How had this happened? Ashamed, h
e stopped danc
ing. Yet
the
disappointed
look
in Nina’
s eyes, combined with
the
heavy groove
on stage once more
made his arms and hips move. He
told his body to halt movement, but
it
wouldn’t listen. It just kept moving to the beat. And he soon realized that
something inside him
wanted to dance. And no matter how much his brain wanted to do otherwise, his spirit
dismissed that command
. Rather than fighting it, he decided to give in to the music.
The so
ng, with such disparate instrumentation, should have resulted as an interesting experiment with good intentions
that failed, especially conside
ring that it amounted to a hard
rock
group led by a pop singer and
backed by an orchestra. But f
or reasons
he couldn’t understand, Nick had never heard
a more excit
ing song in his
life.
Beside him, Nina closed her eyes and swayed. Nick
couldn’t recall an instance
in his entire life when he felt more free and happy. He just let the good vibes roll over him.
Before he knew it, Jackson had led the
rock
group
while keeping up with Mozart’s direction,
through other hits in his catalogue:
“
Billie Jean
,
”
“Don’t Stop ‘till You Get Enough
,
”
“The Way You Make Me Feel,”
during
which Nick couldn’t help but continue admiring Nina’s beauty
. He
took the opportunity to face her and dance, allowing him to shut out ev
eryone else around them. He simply
listened to the music and let his soul speak to him.
When the musicians began “
Heal
the World,” the crowd
felt the emotion behind Jackson’s lyrics
. Toward the end of the song,
they took an active part
by
singing the chorus. Nick couldn’t deny how i
nspirational this moment had become. Ever since his parents and brother
had
passed away, he
had purposely stunted his emotions when it came to relating to
others. But this song broke
through that empty
conviction
as well as the notion that he shouldn’t let people into his heart.
At the song’s conclusion, Jackson
immediately led the group into “Will You Be There,” a song about the importance of depending on others when you feel pain or sorrow
, confusion or frustration,
loneliness or fear
. And because he’d allowed himself to feel the crowd coming
together during the last song, Nick felt his spirit
opening during this song to such an extent that, when those around him moved together in an undulating wave of emotion, he felt himself singing the chorus along with them – even though he’d never before heard this song!
Despite that, while holding hands with Nina and
Mei Lee
, he felt the words coming to him as though he’d heard the song hundreds of times
;
the lyrics just flowed right out of him. It felt
as
though those around him ha
d formed one massive collective, and Nick knew the song because the others around him were familiar with it. He couldn’t ever recall an inst
ance where he felt more in tune
with
not just one person but…every other person in the vicinity
.
And
as the song continued, all the worries and anxieties
that had power over him
disintegrate
d
. For the first time since
his family had
moved on
, he finally felt
part of something bigger than just himself.
He longer felt alone.
It seemed
like
f
amily
members
surrounded him.
He didn’t quite know who they were. And he didn’t know how they knew each other, but he felt their
essence, their spirit
. And it released the floodgates of relief to such an extent that the emotions clogged his throat so that he couldn’t
even
speak.
At that moment, a man standin
g in front of him turned around.
Harold!
Nick stared at his brother, expecting him to walk away from him, expecting him to once again force Nick to try and find him among a huge crowd.
Harold smiled
and took a step forward. “
It’s good to see you, Nick
.”
“Harold,”
Nick said in disbelief as t
he crowd
was
still wrapped up in the performance on stage.
Shocked that his brother had not only app
eared once more but had approached
him rather than walk
away, Nick said,
“
It’s really you
.”
“I know how you’ve felt, blaming yourself for my death. But
it wasn’t
you
r
fault.” He wrapped his brother in a firm embrace. “I don’t blame you.”
Nick
wanted to clutch onto his brother so that he wouldn’t ever leave him again, but
hugging him had
left him so weak that he could barely hold himself upright.
“I’ve missed you.”
“Me too.”
Harold held
t
ight
to him
. “Me too.”
When Nick released his brother, he spun toward Nina. “I want you to meet…”
But Nina no longer stood beside him.
Mei Lee
had taken
her place.
“Where’s Nina,” Nick asked, glancing around. “I want to introduce her to my brother.”
He scanned the area. “Where did she go?”
“Now that you’ve learned the reason
why
you’re here, it’s time for Nina to do the same. If you’re ready, feel free to join us.” Then
Mei Lee
vanished.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Nina sat in the front row looking up at Michael Jack
son utter the final words to his
song as the keyboards and piano hit their final keys and the crowd hummed the end of the song. The musicians on stage accepted the applause.
“What are we doing here?” Nina asked
Mei Lee
, shocked to be looking up at Michael Jackson
,
and behind him
,
Mozart.
“I thought you’d want front row for the next performance.”
When the crowd settled down, Michael Jackson said, “We’re going to take a quick break, but we have some special guests here tonight.” Then he met Nina’s ey
es.
“
I introduce to you…
Whitney Houston.”
Nina took a sharp intake of breath as she saw her idol saunter across the stage wearing a beautiful
sateen
purple
dress that highlighted her exquisite figure
. Whitney
waved to members of the crowd then hugged Jackson as Mozart and the band members headed off stage, leaving the orchestra behind them in their seats. When they parted and Jackson turned to head backstage, Houston said, “Thank you, Michael
,
for allowing me to share this special night with you.” She looked out at the crowd. “This is my first appearance since…well, needless to say I’m a little nervous. Don’t be too hard on me, okay?”
The crowd whistled and cheered and clapped.
“For this performance, I hope you’ll all welcome one of the finest musicians ever to grace the stage: Ludwig van Beethoven.
A man with an intense stare and thick grey hair stepped onto the stage wearing a black suit jacket and a red scarf around his neck, upon which the white collar of
his dress shirt rested. He stood before the crowd and bowed. He nodded to Whitney then took up residence before the orchestra. He waved his baton and the strings section began playing. Moments later, the piano entered the song.
Whitney Houston stood in the center of the stage and began singing
the one song that everyone had identified her with, the one song that every single person on
e
arth
must have heard at least once.
Nina just stared at her in awe.
“It’s funny, isn’t it?”
Mei Lee
asked.
Nina, irritated that her friend would interrupt Whitney, shushed her.
“Even your favorite singer admitted to being nervous in front of a crowd.”
She tried to ignore the comment.
“I mean, if even one of the biggest recording artists in history is nervous, who could blame
you
for being a little anxious.”
“It’s more than a little anxiety,” Nina said. “I’m scared. I’m beyond scared. I’m terrified, okay?” She turned to
Mei Lee
. “Is that what you wanted to hear?
That
I’ll never
be able to do what Wh
itney does?
Don’t you get it? I’m a failure.”
Mei Lee
shook her head. “I don’t believe that. And I don’t believe you really feel that way.”
“How could you say that? You know how many times I’ve just
stood there, speechless. You’ve seen one blunder after another. I can’t do it. No matter how much I want it, I can’t do what I want to do. I’m just not good enough.”