Michael Jackson (28 page)

‘When I got to the apartment building, he told the doorman to send me up,’ Theresa recalled. ‘'Toya answered the door. She
was irritated. “Michael didn't tell
me
that the two of you made plans,” she said. It was as if he was supposed to check with her before he made plans, and he hadn't.

‘So I asked 'Toya where he was, and she said that he was in the kitchen baking chocolate chip cookies. After Michael and I
talked and ate the cookies, I took a look around. The suite had a balcony. Michael used to like to hang over it like he was
going to jump. He loved acting like a fool to upset his sister. 'Toya had the most wonderful room, a real showplace with a
huge bed and a mirror above it, a penthouse bedroom befitting a star. Michael had a small, simple bedroom with a twin-sized
bed in it and a desk. I asked myself, Why does she have such a great room and he's stuck with
this?
’

One day, Michael returned from the studio very excited about a new structure that had been built for his character at the
studio. ‘Follow me,’ he told Theresa. She followed him into his modest bedroom. As the two of them stood at his desk, he started
showing her a scrapbook of photographs of the movie set.

‘So what do you think? Great, huh?’ Michael asked.

‘Yes, you're so lucky,’ Theresa enthused.

Michael closed the book and looked into Theresa's eyes, thoughtfully. He tilted his head and leaned over to her, awkwardly.
At that moment, LaToya walked into the room. ‘What's going on in here?’ she wanted to know. Michael pulled back nervously.

‘So anyway, I uh…’ he stammered.

Years later, Theresa would recall, ‘I wanted him to kiss me so badly. And I know he would have if 'Toya hadn't surprised us.’

After
The Wiz
was filmed and before the movie was released, it was back to business as usual for The Jacksons. However, Michael now felt
differently about his family and his career. Satisfied with his work in New York, and having been praised by people whose
opinions mattered to him, he was filled with a new confidence in himself as an individual artist. He wanted to begin work
on the solo album he had been promised by Epic as soon as possible, even though the rest of the family wanted to concentrate
on the third Jacksons group album for the label. The family won again.

The group went into the studio to record
Destiny,
the first Jacksons album said to be written and produced by the group itself. Although the Jacksons did, indeed, write all
but one of the songs, executive producer Bobby Colomby and Mike Atkinson did most of the production work. When there was some
disagreement as to what credit they should receive, Michael was the only one of the brothers who felt that Colomby and Atkinson
should be credited as executive producers.

Destiny
was, by far, the most exciting Jacksons album to date, including all of those recorded at Motown. For the first time, the
group put together a cohesively structured album. There were no filler songs; all eight songs were noteworthy.

What's more Michael had never sounded better than he did on this album. His performance on the dreamy ballad ‘Push Me Away’,
with its orchestral sweep and rapturous melody, is carefree and effortless. Yet upon closer inspection, it becomes obvious
that Michael's delivery is tightly measured and precise. He knows exactly how to settle his mind on the heart and story of
a song in order to create the proper mood. As a result of years in the studio and in front of audiences, and a genuine love
for singing, he had become an intuitively brilliant stylist.

Though off to a bad start with the high-flash pop of ‘Blame It on the Boogie’ (a single that didn't even make the Top 40 in
the US, but sailed into the Top 10 in Britain),
Destiny
would fare much better than
Goin' Places.
The real showcase was the mesmerizing ‘Shake Your Body (Down to the Ground)’, written by Michael and Randy. Released in February
1979, it was the biggest hit of the album, peaking at number seven on the pop charts and selling two million copies globally.
‘Shake Your Body’ personified the contemporary disco trend with its crackling lead vocal by Michael, whip-snapping chorus
from the brothers and insistent, persistent backbeat. It is still regarded by many music critics as the perfect dance record
and one of The Jacksons' strongest efforts.

The Jacksons did many interviews with the press to discuss their new album, often emphasizing that they had been writing songs
for years, but
Destiny
marked the first time they'd been able to dominate an album with their own compositions. They had left Motown to do just
this and had good reason to feel triumphant. They certainly could not be criticized in terms of their ability to write songs;
they proved themselves with
Destiny.
However, what was striking about the brothers at this time is how they were still unable to discuss their music with authority.
Rather, the brothers – Jackie, twenty-seven; Tito, twenty-five; Marlon, twenty-one; Michael, twenty, and Randy, sixteen – were
ambiguous in their comments, merely serving up heaps of platitudes about how ‘wonderful’ it was to write and produce their
own music. Because of their early training at Motown to say only what they were told to say, now that The Jacksons could express
themselves freely to the press, they didn't know how to do it.

I was one of the reporters the Jacksons spoke to when they were promoting
Destiny.
Since I had interviewed them so many times in the past, I knew to stay clear of in-depth musical discussions. Still, my time
with them that August day in 1978 was memorable, not so much as for what they said about their work as for what I observed
about their relationships with one another.

When I pulled up to the Jacksons' Encino estate with my photographer, the ominous, black wrought-iron gate was open so we
were able to drive right through, into the circular driveway, upon which was parked a cache of Cadillacs, Rolls-Royces and
Mercedes-Benzes. Three sentry dogs, penned up at the end of the drive, hurled themselves against the chain-link fence, their
ferocious barks in stark contrast to the high-pitched cries of three large peacocks also caged, nearby.

Looking around, I noticed the custom-made street sign,
JACKSON
5
BOULEVARD,
on a nearby tree trunk. I remembered the barbecue I had attended a year earlier during which Michael and Jermaine proudly
nailed the sign, made for them as part of ‘Jackson 5 Day’ in Gary, to the tree. To my left was the court where I and a few
other weakling reporters stood on the sidelines with Michael, Janet and LaToya while the brothers and members of the Temptations
played ball. When I glanced up at the two-storey house, I noticed four people looking down at me: Michael, LaToya, Randy and
Katherine had their solemn faces pressed against the glass panes, almost as if prisoners in a compound.

Twenty-two-year-old LaToya, looking fresh and young in a white tennis outfit, answered the front door to us. When Michael
approached seconds later, she excused herself, dashed out into the driveway, got into a sporty red Mercedes convertible, and
sped off, the brakes screeching.

‘Glad you could make it,’ Michael said as we shook hands. ‘Good to see you, again.’ He was wearing a yellow
Jaws
T-shirt, black jeans and a safari hat, around which his Afro billowed. His feet were bare. He spoke in an odd falsetto whisper,
which seemed even softer than it had the last time we talked. In exactly a week, he would turn twenty.

Michael led us through the house towards the living room. A huge yellow and green parrot sat perched on a ledge outside the
window, shucking peanuts. A red, blue and yellow cockatoo-eyed us warily through another window. It let out an ear-piercing
screech as we sat down.

‘How come you're not getting your guests lemonade?’ Katherine asked Michael when she came into the room. Though she had a
limp, she walked into the room with total self-assurance and a bearing that could only be described as regal. She was forty-nine.

‘Oh, sorry,’ Michael murmured. He dashed off to the kitchen, giving me an opportunity to catch up with Katherine while the
photographer set up his equipment.

The living room's decor was a mixture of pale yellows, soft greens and stark white splashed with pink. It was a bit on the
garish side. Katherine told me that she had designed the motif herself, an assignment for a home-decorating class. She was
getting ready to redecorate their kitchen, she said. She then mentioned that Michael's favourite foods at that time were hot
apple turnovers and sweet-potato pies. ‘Lately, I can't get him to eat
anything.
I try and try,’ she said, dismayed. ‘I keep thinking he'll eat when he gets hungry, but the boy never gets hungry. Have you
noticed how skinny he is? It worries me.’

I looked around. ‘These last few years have sure been good ones,’ I observed. ‘Maybe the best of your life?’

‘Not really,’ she answered. ‘The best years were back in Gary,’ she said, her eyes now reflective. ‘We had one bedroom for
the boys and they all slept together in triple bunk beds. Before going to sleep, I'd sing folk songs to them. I'd always wanted
to be a country star,’ she said, ‘but who'd ever heard of a black country star, back then?’

Katherine rose and walked to a small, antique writing desk in a corner. She opened a drawer and pulled out a photograph. ‘We
were so happy, then,’ she said, showing me the dog-eared picture. It was of the entire family in Gary, posing in front of
the house on Jackson Street. ‘I'd give up all that we have now for just one of those days back in Gary when it simpler. When
we first came to California, I don't know how many times I said, “I wish things were the way they used to be in Gary.” But
things have never been the same,’ she added, fingering the picture. ‘It's all changed now.’

Michael came back into the room with two glasses of lemonade. After handing one to me and the other to the photographer, he
sat in a chair in a lotus position. Katherine excused herself.

During our two-hour interview, Michael shared his thoughts on a wide range of subjects. ‘I don't know much about politics,’
he admitted at one point. ‘Someone told me recently that Gerald Ford was President.’ He chuckled; he was in good spirits,
not at all the shy, reclusive superstar he would become in a few years. I laughed with him, thinking we were sharing a joke,
but we weren't. He was serious. ‘I remember when he was Vice-President,’ Michael continued thoughtfully. ‘
That
I remember. But, President?’ He shrugged his shoulders helplessly. ‘That I missed.’

Surprised by his uninformed nature, I asked, ‘How do you keep up with current events? Do you read newspapers? Watch TV?’

‘I watch cartoons,’ he told me, his eyes lighting up. ‘I
love
cartoons. I love Disney. The Magic Kingdom. Disneyland. It's such a magical place. Walt Disney was a dreamer, like me. And
he made his dreams come true, like me. I hope.’

‘What about current events?’

Michael looked at me blankly. ‘Current events?’

‘Do you read the newspaper?’ I asked.

He shook his head. ‘See, I like show business. I listen to music all the time. I watch old movies. Fred Astaire movies. Gene
Kelly, I love. And Sammy [Davis]. I can watch these guys all day, twenty-four hours a day. That's what I love the most.’

We talked about old movies for a while, and about his involvement in
The Wiz.
I then asked what he saw as his biggest professional challenge.

‘To live up to what Joseph expects of me.’

‘Living up to what your father expects of you is a
professional
challenge?’ I asked.

Michael mulled over my question. ‘Yes,’ he decided. ‘A professional challenge.’

‘What about the personal challenges?’

‘My professional challenges and personal challenges are the same thing,’ he said uneasily. ‘I just want to entertain. See,
when I was in the second grade, the teacher asked me what I wished for. I asked for a mansion, peace in the world, and to
be able to entertain… Can we talk about something else?’

‘Do you have any friends that you can really confide in?’

Michael squirmed. ‘No, not really. I'm pretty lonely.’

‘How about Tatum?’ I wondered.

Michael considered the question. ‘She's nice,’ he said. ‘She was happy for me when I got the part in
The Wiz.
She and Ryan were on my side, helping me with my lines. Tatum understands me. She's gonna teach me to drive a car. She introduces
me to people, famous,
famous
people.’

‘Any other friends?’

‘Well, I do have one friend,’ he said. ‘A very dear, close friend that I can tell my deepest, darkest secrets to because I
know she won't tell anyone else. Her name is…’ He paused for dramatic effect. ‘Miss Diana Ross.’

‘You have deep, dark secrets, Michael?’

He laughed. ‘
Everybody
has deep, dark secrets.’

At this point, Michael was joined by Jackie, Tito, Marlon and Randy. We talked about the group's success at Motown and about
the fanatical hysteria generated by their fame.