Michael Jackson (65 page)

‘So, now, look,’ he told Jerome, who had been waiting for him in the living room. ‘You go in there and do what you can. But
don't talk to them about nothing but contracts. Don't mention the Moonies and all that stuff, 'cause then they're not gonna
want to do it. Just talk to them about all the money they're gonna make. That's it.’

When Jerome went into the thirty-two-seat theatre, he found Jackson family members scattered all about it. ‘I thought, Damn!
These people don't eyen want to sit near each other,’ Jerome recalled.

Jerome stood in front of the screen and delivered a speech about the proposed concerts. He talked about the millions that
could be made, and how much publicity could be generated. He didn't mention the Moonies, or much about the financial backing
other than Kenneth Choi's involvement. Immediately afterwards, Marlon rose from his chair. ‘No way,’ he said. ‘Forget it.
No more family tours for me. I don't care how many millions are involved, I learned my lesson the last time. Count me out.’

Marlon was finished with The Jacksons, and he had ambivalent feelings about Michael. The brothers had hoped to go with Michael
on the Bad tour, if not in a full-reunion capacity, maybe just as part of the act, singing a medley of old hits. Michael was
elusive about the possibility, and never actually said that he wouldn't be using them on the show. He's the one who had mentioned
it to them but, given the family dynamic, who knows – or remembers – why. In the end, though, he decided against the idea. ‘I'd
hear from friends what was going on,’ Marlon complained later, in an interview. ‘If he didn't want to tell me the truth, he
shouldn't have said anything. But instead, he lies. The last time I got a straight answer from Michael was back in 1984.’
No doubt, Marlon was still stung from the most recent fib Michael had told him, which was that he was not moving out of Hayvenhurst
and into Neverland.

Still, Marlon had a warm spot in his heart for his brother. When he had trouble extricating himself from his mediocre CBS
recording contract, Michael called the company's president Walter Yetnikoff and secured his brother's release. ‘I just don't
want anything to further ruin the way I feel about Mike,’ he said. ‘I don't think we should work together. It's better when
we don't.’

‘Well, too bad for you,’ Jackie said to Marlon. ‘Because I'm in.’

‘Me too,’ said Randy.

Jermaine conferred with Margaret; the two whispered back and forth to each other, urgently. ‘Okay,’ he said, finally. ‘I'm
in, too.’

‘Count me in too,’ Tito piped up.

‘But what about Michael?’ Randy wanted to know. ‘What are we gonna do about Michael?’

‘We don't need him,’ Jackie said. ‘We can do it ourselves, without him.’

Katherine agreed. ‘Oh, let's not bring Michael into this,’ she said. ‘Please. Isn't there some way to do this without him?’

Jerome shook his head. He had to be careful how he put it, but the fact was that the Olympic Stadium in Seoul seats sixty
thousand people, and the brothers would not be able to fill it on their own. They'd never performed without Michael, and this
was no time to start. Besides, the Koreans wanted Michael Jackson a lot more than they wanted the rest of them. ‘I think it
would be best if we approached Michael,’ Jerome said cautiously. ‘We should at least give him the opportunity we have to make
this much money.’

‘Look, just leave him to Mother and me,’ Jermaine offered, impatiently. ‘We'll talk him into it.’

‘How?’ Randy wanted to know.

Jermaine turned to Katherine. She took a deep breath and sighed wearily. ‘I'll see what I can do,’ she said. ‘I'm just afraid
that if we push too hard, we'll lose Michael forever. And then, what will we do?’

The final date of Michael Jackson's Bad tour was at the end of January in 1989 at the Sports Arena in Los Angeles. Diana Ross,
Elizabeth Taylor, Dionne Warwick, and many other celebrities attended the concerts, as well as Katherine and Janet Jackson.
Michael dedicated his Motown hits medley to Berry Gordy, who was sitting with Diahann Carroll and Suzanne dePasse. 4.5 million
people had paid to see Michael perform since the tour began in September 1987. Over the last year and a half, he had performed
123 concerts in fifteen countries on four continents. The show's weekly expenses were between $500,000 and $650,000. The tour
grossed over $125 million at the box office.

It hadn’t been all work, however. ‘He would always take time to see the sights,’ recalled Seth Riggs. ‘When we were rehearsing
in Liverpool, he stopped the practice session so that we could look at some beautiful clouds that had wafted in. That’s Michael.
They closed down the Louvre in Paris for a whole day while Michael and the rest of us went through. In Rome, Franco Zeffirelli
gave him a big party. All of the crème de la crème were there, and suddenly Zeffirelli couldn’t find Michael. He looked all
over and found Michael in a room with a bunch of little kids in their pyjamas, playing. He’s the most natural, loving person
I’ve ever known, a very good person, as corny as that sounds,’ continued Riggs, who still works with Michael on a regular
basis.

‘He’ll see a picture of a baby, and if it’s a cute kid, he will go gaga over the picture. During the tour, on his nights off,
he would go into a toy store and buy ten of this and ten of that and then stay up all night long putting batteries into toys,
making certain each one worked so that he could have them ready to give to kids backstage the next day. As if he didn’t have
enough to worry about.’

On one leg of the tour, Michael brought along his ten-year-old friend, Jimmy Safechuck. Michael had a copy of one of his stage
uniforms made for Jimmy so that they could dress alike. Most people found the relationship strange, especially when Michael
would take him on shopping sprees. He spent thousands of dollars on toys for Jimmy in London. At one point, Michael had to
cancel two shows because he caught a cold from the kid.

Another young friend of Michael’s, Jonathan Spence, said, ‘When we hang out. He’s just like any other guy. He never talks
about himself, only about what is going on with others. We never talk about show business. Sometimes he’ll put on a disguise
when we’re in public. When we go to Disneyland, we’ll go through the back and take all the alleys and back ways and get in
front of the lines. He can’t wait in the line, no way. He would cause a riot. We move fast through Disneyland; if people get
a good look at him, that’ll be it for that outing.

‘He’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever known. He’s smart. He knows a lot about everything. He’s a kid. He never really had
a childhood, and he’s having it now. The stuff I read in the papers about him, I know it’s all a bunch of B.S. I just ignore
it. A couple of times I’ve asked him about girlfriends and stuff, but we never really get into that. We don’t talk about the
plastic surgery either, because it’s none of my business. He never brings it up. It’s not like he says, “Well, how do you
like my new chin?” It’s hard to get in touch with him, though. I usually have to call his secretary, and then a couple of
days later, he’ll call me.’

After Michael gave Jimmy Safechuck’s parents a hundred-thousand-dollar Rolls-Royce, Frank Dileo became concerned about the
way it looked. It seemed inappropriate. He suggested that Michael break off his friendship with Jimmy. Michael was hurt, then
angry. ‘No way,’ he told Frank. ‘Forget it.’

‘But I don’t like it, Michael,’ Frank insisted. ‘It looks bad, you and all these kids.’

‘Mind your own business then,’ Michael snapped back, ‘and maybe it won’t look so bad. How’s that sound?’

With the tour finished, Michael and Jimmy holed up at Neverland, recharging their batteries, so to speak. Meanwhile, unbeknownst
to Michael, someone named Kenneth Choi wanted his signature on the contract for the Jackson – Moonies Project. ‘I was getting
faxes left and right,’ Jerome Howard recalled. ‘The heat was on. We had to get Michael. But the timing was wrong. It was a
bad time to approach him.’

‘We’re giving Michael his space now,’ Jermaine said at the time. ‘But after he finishes his tour, we’re all going to attack
him – with love.’

Michael might have responded by saying, ‘Please, don’t do me any favours.’

None of the Jacksons was even able to contact Michael. It was sad that he didn’t feel comfortable contacting his family members,
but he sensed that whenever he opened himself up to them they ended up wanting something from him, and he had nothing else
to give. ‘Dirty Diana’ realized Frank Dileo’s prophecy of five number-one hits from the
Bad
album, the first album in pop history to generate five number-one singles. Yet, despite all of the touring, his last two
singles, ‘Another Part of Me’ and ‘Smooth Criminal’ did not make number one. Michael wants
every
record to go to number one. The sales of the
Bad
album stalled at seventeen million, amazing but still a far cry from
Thriller
‘s sales of almost forty million. It was obvious that Michael would not break his own sales record, which depressed him.

‘They think he’s shy and he’s evasive and all of this,’ observed his guitarist David Williams. ‘No. He’s just fucking scared
and tired of people bugging him.’

Whenever Michael went out, it was in disguise. For instance, he visited a pharmacy in Westwood disguised with a large Afro
wig and dark glasses. Still, he was picked out by the store’s manager. ‘I recognized him the minute I saw his nose and chin,’
he said. When asked what Michael had purchased, he answered, ‘A hand-held power vibrator.’

One does have to wonder about the true reasons for Michael’s outrageous disguises. It seems that when he truly
wants
attention, he wears a costume so ridiculous he gets the desired result. Occasionally, though, matters get out of hand. For
instance, Michael once went into a jewellery store in Simi Valley, California, wearing a wig under a baseball cap, a phony-looking
moustache, and fake buck teeth. He was accompanied by a young boy. Nervously, he continually adjusted his moustache while
looking into a mirror. When employees feared the suspicious character was ‘casing the joint’, a security guard asked him to
step outside and demanded an explanation. ‘I have to wear a costume,’ Michael said. ‘I’m Michael Jackson.’ Michael then removed
the disguise. By that time, however, three squad cars had arrived, as had a huge crowd. Michael’s presence, along with the
police, had caused such hysteria, everyone present had to have his autograph. He happily signed for all. Perhaps the get-up
did serve a purpose, but not the one most people thought it was supposed to serve; he clearly wanted the attention. He loves
his fans, and he also loves knowing they still love him.

Another time, though, things didn’t work out as well. When Michael was driving his Rolls while wearing a disguise, he was
stopped by a police officer who thought the automobile ‘looks like a stolen car’. (Of course, there is a prevailing racism
among some police officers in America who routinely stop blacks who are driving expensive cars.) Michael didn’t have his licence
with him. Worse, he had an outstanding ticket. The officer didn’t believe he was
the
Michael Jackson, even when he removed the disguise. The next thing he knew, he was in the Van Nuys jail. Bill Bray bailed
him out. Afterward, Michael said, ‘It was the coolest thing, ever. I never thought I’d get to go to jail. I loved every second
of it.’

Michael was only able to avoid his relatives for about a month before, at the end of January, his sister LaToya created enough
familial chaos to make it necessary that he re-surface. Michael was now thirty. He had spent the last twenty years concerned
with the public’s perception of him and his family. Ever since the day in 1969 when Berry Gordy and Diana Ross taught him
to lie about his age, Michael had understood the importance of public relations. He had always helped to present an image
of solidarity where the Jackson family was concerned, even embarking on the Victory tour with his brothers when he really
did not want to do so. Now, LaToya threatened to shatter the family’s carefully constructed image of wholesomeness by stripping
naked for
Playboy
.