It’s December 21st, 2008 and today I’ll be seeing Dad for the first time in 2 long years. He called us last week with a surprise message that he was coming home exactly one week from today. The moment he said it, I have to admit I was a bit disappointed. I tried to sound excited but honestly, I’ve been dreading this day for a while now. I know I sound like a horrible son but you have to understand where I’m coming from to understand why I feel this way. It all started way before you think. Around 2008, sometimes he’d spend hours and hours up in his bedroom (which we weren’t allowed in) and we wouldn’t see him until night time. Sometimes he’d stay up there till noon and when we did see him he’d be acting really strange slurring and forgetting our names and everything.

“Good Morning Dumplings!” He said one day, and it was 3 going on 4 in the afternoon.

“It’s not morning Dad!” Paris said laughing.

He smiled.

“I’ve been tired...” He said walking into the kitchen.

“What’s there to eat?” Dad growled mid-yawn.

“Mrs. Chase made us grilled cheese and fresh strawberries for lunch.” I replied.

“Dadddyyy!” Blanket yelled running towards Dad.

He hugged Dad’s legs nearly knocking him over.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Take it easy little man!” Dad said almost losing his balance.

“Oh, look who decided to wake up!” Nanny Grace said as she entered the room.

“I was tired…” Dad exclaimed.

“I thought your leg was broken Blanket!” She said with a suspicious look on her face.

Paris and I laughed.

“Oh… it is! Daddy look! I fell and broke my leg it hurts so bad and Nanny put a band-aid on it for me so it would get better!” Blanket announced in his little kid voice.

“Just a minute ago he could barely walk and now he’s running! God is good!” Nanny said sarcastically as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

Dad frowned.

“His leg is broken and you put a band-aid on it?” It was obvious that he didn’t get the joke.

“No Michael his leg is fine. He’s definitely your son though. His acting skills are great!”

Dad still looked confused.

He staggered over to where she was.

“Damn right he’s my son! What’s that supposed to mean?”

Nanny Grace squinted.

“Oh Michael..” She said under her breath. “Kids why don’t you guys go to your rooms. Blanket, go with them.”

“But I was reading!” Paris whined.

“I want to stay with Daddy!” Blanket whined as well.

“Go.” Nanny said.

Paris took Blanket by the hand and we walked upstairs towards our bedrooms. Suddenly I stopped.

“You go ahead. I forgot something...” I said.

“Sure you did!” Paris said squinting at me.

I walked slowly back down the steps and hid behind a plant near the kitchen to see what was going on. I hated not knowing things.

“Those are MY kid’s Grace! I tell’em what to do!”

“I can’t believe this Michael...” she said. Her accent really came out when she was upset. “You’re doing this again?! I’ve known you for 17 years and I know when you’re…”

“When I’m what? What Grace?” There was silence. I wish I could see what was going on.

"SO WHAT!?” Dad shouted.

“Shhh!” Nanny hissed.

“So what?” Dad repeated a bit softer this time.

“You need to stop!” She said.

“No! You need to stop! I’m the father here, not you! I’m Michael Jackson!”

“You’re not even making sense, just go back to your room, do what you do and just go! It would save me…you’re kids a lot of pain”

“You don’t know what’s good for my kids I’m their Daddy! They call me Dad!”

The way Dad was talking and sort of even slurring make him sound really silly.

“Then act like the Dad Michael!”

“Get out!” I heard Dad shout “Get out!”.

I thought he was talking to me so I ran up the stairs. Turns out he was talking to Nanny Grace. She left and stayed gone for the rest of the day. Eventually we went back down stairs. Dad was asleep on the living room couch. Mrs. Chase woke him up for Dinner. We all ate at the table together even though he kept falling asleep the table. After Dinner we went to bed. And for the first time in a long time, Dad didn’t come in to tell us goodnight.
_________________________________________­___­___
Omer is supposed to be picking me up around 3 and we’re going out to eat at some restaurant. It’s been a while since we’ve done this. Usually he’s real busy working in the studio and what not. He arrived in his red mustang. I always admired his style. He sent me a text to let me know he was outside. Once I stepped up to the car he rolled down the passenger window.

“Get your ass in here!” he said jokingly. I opened the door and got in the car. We talked about his music a bit on our way there. But once we got to the restaurant he brought it up.

“Grandmother told me what happened...” He started off. I put down my fork and a let out a frustrated chuckle.

“I knew that’s what this was all about..” I muttered under my breath.

“She told me her side of the story so why don’t you tell me yours.”

“You make it seem like we got into some sort of fight and it wasn’t even like that.”

“My bad then, why don’t you tell me what happened.”

“You said you already knew.” “Prince, come on man,” I exhaled.

“Far had just gotten his new laptop… we we’re messing around on it when Far suggested we that Google ourselves. I went first and… well; I found some things out okay?” He pressed all 5 of his fingers against each.

“What’d you find?” I just shook my head. He knew what I found.

“I found out I was the son of f.reak okay?”

My throat burned like I was about to cry again.

“I also found out, my Mother is Debbie...something... And I didn’t even know I had a mother!”

“Your Dad’s not a f.reak…”

“But that’s what people think!”

“It doesn't matter what people think! What you think is the only thing that matters! Do you think he’s a f.reak?”


“Of course not! He’s my Dad!”

“I know he’s your Dad but as a person do you think he’s a f.reak?”

“No!”

“Okay then! That should be the end of it.”

“But you don’t understand Omer! How am I supposed to live a normal life with everyone knowing I’m the son of W.acko J.acko? How am I supposed to get a job and be normal with that title?”

“Is that why you’ve been refusing to do your school work? You feel like there’s no hope for you?”

I just looked at my plate. I still haven’t taken a bite out of my Spaghetti.

“What’s the point?”

“The point is you need an education and you know what’s what you’re Dad would want.”

“He didn't care what I wanted so why should I care about what he wants?”

“You’re really something Prince...” Omer said. “You’re a real piece of work.” He added.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I can’t believe you’re talking like this! Who put these ideas in your head? This isn’t you talking! This isn’t you.”

“It is me. I’m just not blind anymore. I see what my life is, and I hate it!”

“Do you know how badly I wanted what you have growing up? People would ask me all the time, ‘Are you Michael’s son?’ I’d always say no when I wanted so much to say yes. I never had a Dad and you do! And not only do you have a father, you have Michael Jackson as you’re father. He’s the BEST father I’ve ever seen. He loves you guys so much and I never got that from my Dad!”

“Well apparently my Dad is your Dad so welcome to the family..” I chucked, because of the rumors that were surfacing about Omer being my Dad's secret son.

“Don’t believe everything you read Prince most of what you read online is either only partly true, or completely false.”

“My whole life is false! If I can’t believe what I read then what do I believe? You guys won’t tell me anything!!”

“Something’s aren’t meant for you to know yet. And some of the questions you have WE don’t even know. Only your father does. And speaking of what need and don’t need to know, what all do you know?”

“About?”

“About your Dad…”

“I know mostly everything.”

He removed his hat, scratched his head then put the hat on again. “We didn’t expect it to happen this fast, Prince. We thought we had at least another year before you and Paris started to get curious…”

“I went to Grandmother to ask her questions but she didn’t want to answer them!”

“You came about asking her the wrong way, Prince. You don’t print out a billion articles and question her interrogation style! That’s rude and out of place!”

“I just wanted to know the truth…”

“Well you could've called me…”

“I did! But you’re always busy man. You’re always busy!”

“That’s going to change from now on.”

”Sure…” I said under my breath.

“Are you excited to see him?”

“Not really because I know what he wants. He wants us to go stay with him. But I’m not going anywhere.”

“And why do you think that?”

“Because I know him… and that’s what he wants.”

“Why don’t you want to live with your Dad? I mean, he IS your Dad!”

“I don’t even know why he left in the first place! He was about to do a comeback! People were finally about to see how great he still was. And he ruined it!”

“Believe it or not but he did it for you guys.”

“What?”

“He was sick Prince. He didn’t want you guys to see him that sick. Plus, those concerts would’ve really killed him. He wasn’t well enough to do that again.”

Now that I look back on it, I guess he was sick…

“Suddenly a man walked by the glass window that was next to our booth and took a picture.

“sh*t. I guess we should go." He whistled at a waiter. “Can we get this to-go?”

Once we were outside at least 10 more men with cameras surrounded us. “Prince how’s Paris!” “Omer what did you eat?” “Prince how’s Blanket?” “Moonwalk for us Prince!” They were all shouting at once. We pushed through the crowd and got into the car. I know this is only the beginning of a very confusing life.Maybe Omer was right. What I think about my father is the only thing that matters, but it’s still a hard pill to swallow. I still have questions that still need answers.
_________________________________________­___­___

“Do me a favor.” Omer said as he pulled into the driveway. “Don’t tell Paris okay?”

“I won’t.” I said opening the door to get out of the car.

“You’re not gonna come in?” I asked.

He looked at his watch,

“Not today man. I have a dead line I have to meet at-“,

“Yeah okay.” I said cutting him off.

"Wait a minute, man. Don't cut me off. like I was saying, I have a deadline to meet but i'll call you later on, okay? I love you."

"Yeah, I love you too."

"Alright, and fix that attitude or it's gonna get you into trouble!" He said winking at me before he pulled off.

It’s like no one wants to be around me anymore. And in a way I know that’s not true but for some reason my mind keeps telling me things that I just…I’m starting to believe. When I walked into the house Paris was sitting in the Dining room on the phone. She was probably talking to Elle. She and that girl are always on the phone together.

“Prince, come here please!” Nanny Grace called out from the kitchen.

I could still hear Paris from a distance. “I asked my Grandmother but she said Da-- I mean my Aunt doesn’t want me to. I told her I would be okay. So she says she’ll think about it…”

“Yes?” I said as I walked into the kitchen where Nanny was. She looked concerned.

“Did you have a good time with Omer?” She asked as she fixed herself a sandwich.

“Yeah it was cool.”

She squinted at me.

“Ugh, Yes. Yes it was cool.” I corrected myself.

For some reason Nanny didn’t like it when we said things like, yeah, and mmhm. Sometimes Dad would tell us to say yes out of respect for her but sometimes he’d take up for us. “I’m sorry Grace, it’s me. They get it from me. It’s that southern talk.” He used to say.

“I heard about what happened.” She said sitting down, taking a bite of her sandwich.

Are you kidding me?! What did Grandmother do? Notify the newspapers? I mean come on!

“Okay…”

“And I just wanted to let you know, if you have any questions, you can come to me. I know your father very well.”

“Nannnnnny! You said you we’re going to make me one too!” Blanket screeched running into the kitchen.

“Oh Yes! I forgot! I’m sorry baby. I’ll make yours right now. Did you finish your homework?” She asked him.

He lowered his head.

“I was gonna do it after-"

Nanny Grace gasped. “Blanket, do you want me to call your father!?” His eyes widened. “You better get to it or I’ll call him and you’ll be in trouble!” She said.

Blanket ran upstairs.

“You have to love that little boy.” she said smiling. “Speaking of school, has your Grandmother told you what she’s thinking about doing?” She asked.

I was so grateful the subject had changed and I wasn’t in the hot seat that I put on my ‘extremely interested’ face and said. “No, what’d she say?”

“Well…Paris wants to go to Campbell Hall Episcopal with that Elle Fanning girl. Apparently it’s a very nice school. You’re Grandmother’s going to try and contact your Father, and if he says it’s okay, she might be starting school there in the Fall.”

“Dad will never say yes to that..” I said laughing.

“You don’t think so?”

“No! He’s going to try and drag us back down to wherever he lives now.”

“Drag? That’s an interesting choice of words.”

“Well he’s going to try and take us back with him. I’m not going. But I know Paris and Blanket will.”

“Why aren’t you going?”

“Because I don’t want anything to do with him right now..” I said.

Crap. I probably shouldn’t have said that. Nanny Grace is known for her big mouth.

She stood there sort of speechless so I spoke up. “I’ll take it to Blanket it you want..”

“What?” She said.

“The sandwich. You’re done right?”

“Oh, yes, yes, please do. And make sure he’s doing his lesson Prince! If he needs help, help him.”

“Okay.” I said taking the plate and walking upstairs.

News spreads fast around here. Sort of like wildfire. It’s insane. From now on, I only need to talk to people I can trust. And I’m not even sure if that’s anyone. Paris I guess…Maybe even Omer too. I’d have to trap him though. Since it seems lately he’s only able to talk for 20 minutes per visit.

The next day was a rainy day. So we weren’t allowed to go outside at all. I was supposed to hangout with Far today but he had a basketball game. The phone rang while Paris and I were playing Uno.

“If it’s Elle tell he to call back Monday. I used up all my talk time yesterday.” Paris said.

Grandmother only allowed us to talk to our friends for 2 hours out of the entire week. That rule mainly applied to Paris because she was the only person with real friends. Besides Blanket who often went on play dates to this kid, Seth’s house. But they never talk on the phone. And they don’t hangout that much anymore either.

“It’s Michael.” Nanny said handing the phone to me. “He wants to talk to you guys.” She whispered.

My hands shook as I reached for the phone. “Prince? Paris?” Dad called out on the other end of the receiver.

“It’s me, Dad.”

“Prince! Hi son! Oh, you have no idea how much I’ve missed your voice apple head!”

I wanted to say something back but I felt sort of choked up. I felt like I was talking to a dead man. It was like this every time he called.

“Hello?” Dad called out.

I cleared my throat. “Hi I miss you too Dad.”

“Lemme talk to him! Lemme talk to him!” Pairs chirped. She was obviously more excited about speaking with him than I was so I gave her the phone.

“Hello? Daddy?”

I got up and walked away.

“I miss you so much Dad.” She said. Her voice cracking.

Nanny Grace started after me.

“And where are you going?” She asked.

“The bathroom..”

“But the bathroom is the other way…”

“Well I’ll just go to the other bathroom. We have like 10. I don’t think it really matters.” I said.

I knew I was getting an attitude and this was wrong. But I was getting that feeling again. That feeling where I didn’t want to be a part of this whole thing. That feeling where I didn’t want to be Dad’s son. The pain was so immense. If I get like this from a mere phone call, imagine how it’ll be when he arrives. I swear I had an asthma attack on the way to my room. I couldn't breathe as I ran in and shut the door. The room was spinning and my heart was beating way faster than I should be. “Calm…down…” I said to myself. “Just relax…”