Michael Jackson (38 page)

Outside, graceful black and white swans could be found languishing in backyard ponds. A pair of peacocks; two llamas; two
deer, a giraffe and a ram were also in residence. The animals, kept in stables at night, were allowed to roam freely during
the day. Muscles, the eight-foot boa constrictor, was, he told me, ‘trained to eat interviewers’. Once, Katherine was straightening
out the living room when she discovered Muscles under one of the couch cushions. She let out a scream that might have been
heard all over Encino.

Next to the garage, Michael constructed a mini-version of Disneyland's Main Street U.S.A., including the candy store. There
was a replica of a robotic Abraham Lincoln, which spoke, just as the Lincoln attraction did at Disneyland. Whenever Michael
went to Disneyland, his ‘favourite place on earth’, there would be total chaos because of his fame. Therefore, he preferred
the Disney employees to lead him through the back doors and tunnels of the attractions. In Encino, he built his own little
world of Disney, a precursor to the expansive amusement park he would one day build at Neverland. Other puppet characters
were added to the private amusement park. ‘These are just like real people,’ Michael explained to the writer who looked at
them askance. ‘Except they don't grab at you or ask you for favours. I feel comfortable with these figures. They are my personal
friends.’

Winding brick paths decorated with exotic flowers and neatly cut shrubs led to secluded corners of the large estate where
Michael would often wander alone to meditate. The swimming pool was huge and inviting. Water spouted from four fountainheads
carved like bearded Neptunes on a retaining wall. A waterfall spilt in front of two lovebirds, the ceramic fashioned in elaborate,
colourful tile work. Cool-looking water cascaded down into the main pool, and then flowed into a bubbling Jacuzzi.

On the ground floor of the main house was a thirty-two-seat theatre with plush red velvet seats and equipped with 16-millimetre
and 35-millimetre projectors. The walls and the curtain in front of the screen were teal blue. Michael spent countless hours
in the theatre; there were always Fred Astaire movies ready to be screened, as well as Three Stooges films. ‘I put all this
stuff in here,’ he observed, ‘so I will never have to go out
there,
’ he said, indicating to the outside world.

There was also a wood-panelled trophy room where many of Michael's trophies were displayed in mahogany cases. All of the Jacksons'
gold and platinum albums cover the walls. The family joked that if LaToya ever managed to get a gold album, there will be
no place to hang it. (So far, that has not been a problem.)

Amid the magazine covers and other memorabilia, there was a six-foot-long diorama of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. ‘One
day I got a call from Mike,’ recalled Steve Howell, who was employed by Michael as a video historian. ‘“Come by with the video
equipment, you'll never guess who's comin' over.” “Who?” I asked. “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs!” He'd hired Disney's costumed
actors. I said, “Oh, okay, cool.” Nothing was unusual when you worked for Michael.’

Steve's video of that day shows a childlike Michael, twenty-six years old at the time, playing with the dwarfs in the trophy
room and being serenaded by Snow White. From the expression on his face, one might think it was one of the happiest days of
his life.

A circular white marble staircase with a green carpeted runner led to the upstairs quarters: a gym, and four bedroom suites,
each with its own bathroom. Michael's bedroom was large and cluttered. ‘I just want room to dance and have my books,’ he said.
He had no bed; he slept next to the fireplace on the floor, which was covered with a plush green rug. Some of the walls were
covered with fabric. Pictures of Peter Pan hung on others. There were wooden shutters over the windows, which he usually kept
closed. The room was always a mess, not slobbish, just messy – books and records were everywhere, videotapes and music tapes
piled high. Fan mail was stacked in the corners.

Also in the bedroom were five female mannequins of different ethnic groups – Caucasian, Oriental, Indian and two blacks. They
were posed, looking with blank eyes at visitors. Well dressed and life-sized, they looked like high-fashion models, wearing
expensive clothing. Michael said that he originally planned to have one room in the house specifically for the mannequins,
but he changed his mind and decided to keep his plastic friends in his room. Katherine must have been relieved.

‘I guess I want to bring them to life,’ Michael explained. ‘I like to imagine talking to them. You know what I think it is?
Yeah, I think I'll say it. I think I'm accompanying myself with friends I never had. I probably have two friends. And I just
got them. Being an entertainer, you just can't tell who is your friend. So, I surround myself with people I want to be my
friends. And I can do that with mannequins. I'll talk to them.’

Dr Paul Gabriel, a professor of clinical psychiatry at New York University Medical Center, has a theory about Michael's penchant
for mannequins – which he still has today, as seen on Martin Bashir's 2003 documentary about him: ‘That's a special eccentricity,
in the category of narcissism. We like to think we're beautiful. We make images of ourselves. Children are very narcissistic.
They see themselves in their dolls, and that's what this is about for Michael Jackson. After age five or six, they begin to
give some of that up, but he apparently never did that.’

Later, there would be a crib in the corner of the bedroom, which was where Michael's chimpanzee, Bubbles – who became a celebrity
himself – slept.

Michael's bathroom was impressive, all black marble and gold. The sinks had brass swans for faucets.

A winding stairway led from the bedroom up to a private balcony on which Michael had an outdoor Jacuzzi for his own use.

LaToya's bedroom was down the hall from Michael's. ‘He makes so much noise,’ she once complained. ‘You hear music in his room
when he's trying to create. Or you hear the Three Stooges on TV, and he's up all night, laughing. The light is always on;
Michael is forever reading books. You can't get in his room for the books and junk. I feel sorry for the housekeeper.’ Ever
the practical jokester, Michael enjoyed hiding bugs and spiders under LaToya's sheets so that she would scream upon finding
them. Also, said LaToya, Michael wouldn't think twice about going into anybody's bedroom, opening drawers, and looking inside.
He would frequently exasperate his family members by poking his nose into their personal businesses, but he would become extremely
upset if anyone ever did such a thing to him.

Hayvenhurst – unofficially named after the Encino street on which it was located – was the perfect retreat for Michael Jackson.
It was certainly a far cry from the modest home in which he had been raised as a small child, and even from the traditional
home that had previously been on the property. From the roof of the house, Michael would watch the sunset and the glow of
the twinkly white lights that decorated all of the property's trees and outlined the framework of the house.

On 12 March 1983, the co-management contract Michael Jackson and his brothers had with their father, Joseph Jackson, and with
the team of Ron Weisner and Freddy DeMann expired. It was expected that Michael would renegotiate and sign a new deal. However,
he was not eager to do it. ‘Let's just wait and see what happens,’ he kept saying when the subject was broached. Michael,
now twenty-four years old, had experienced great solo success with
Thriller
and, as a result, was more confident in his decision-making processes. He had just been presented with a double-platinum
award for
Thriller
at a press conference held at CBS's West Coast offices; he knew how powerful he had become in the record industry. He no
longer felt compelled to follow the lead of his brothers, who had said they wanted to continue with Joseph. From this point
on, Ron Weisner, Freddy and Joseph would work without a contract while Michael made up his mind how to handle them.

Certainly, if Joseph wanted to continue managing Michael's career, he was not scoring any points by mistreating Katherine.
Michael had witnessed a great deal of domestic heartbreak in recent years and found it impossible to separate the man he held
responsible for it from the one who managed him. He was beginning to contemplate his options. ‘Why does Joseph have to be
in the picture at all?’ he wondered. ‘Is it because he's my father? Well, that's not good enough.’

Michael was also still troubled by a letter Joseph had written to Ron and Freddy back in 1980. In it, he assailed the managers
for spending too much time on Michael's career and not enough on that of his other sons. Joseph probably did not expect the
letter to get into Michael's hands. If it was up to Joseph, Michael wouldn't even have a successful solo career. Of course,
Michael's success with
Thriller
could actually bode well for the brothers, in terms of work opportunities – as long as Michael remained a part of the group,
which was beginning to seem an unlikely proposition, especially after his next television appearance.

In March – the same month Michael had a number-one hit with ‘Billie Jean’ – Suzanne dePasse was in the final stages of mounting
an NBC special 25 called
Motown 25: Yesterday, Today and Forever
to celebrate Motown's twenty-fifth anniversary. Suzanne, president of Motown Productions at this time and Berry Gordy's respected
right-hand woman, expected all of the former Motown stars, some of whom had left the company acrimoniously, to reunite for
this one evening to pay tribute to fifty-four-year-old Berry, and acknowledge his impact on their lives and careers.

Suzanne did not find it easy obtaining commitments from the artists. For instance, it had been her idea to reunite Diana Ross
and The Supremes, thirteen years after that group disbanded. But Diana, now an RCA recording artist, hadn't seen Berry since
she left Motown, wasn't sure how she felt about him, and decided not to cooperate. Her decision put a proposed Supremes reunion
segment in jeopardy. It was decided that there would, instead, be a reunion of Michael Jackson and The Jackson 5, including
brother Jermaine, who had not performed with the group since 1975. All of the brothers agreed that it would be an excellent
idea to have a reunion for
Motown 25
– all, that is, except for Michael.

First of all, Michael did not want to appear on a television programme. The reason he so enjoyed making music videos was because,
in that format, he could have complete control over the final product. Every aspect of his performance could be perfected – either
by multiple takes or by careful editing. Performing ‘live’ for a studio audience on a programme that would be taped for later
television broadcast was a risky proposition. He would not have as much control as he felt he needed in order to duplicate
the quality of his video work. No matter how he did it on television, there was no way it would be as…
magical.

Also playing a large part in Michael's lack of interest in
Motown 25
was that working with his brothers again, even if for a national, prime-time audience, wasn't as appealing to him as it was
to the rest of the family. For years he had depended on the Jacksons for love, support and even professional status. However,
recently he had begun to break away – first, emotionally by distancing himself from them and then, professionally, by out-scaling
their success with his own. He never actually made an announcement that he was leaving the group, but Michael definitely no
longer wanted to be perceived as one of The Jacksons.

Beyond that, Michael had ambivalent feelings about Berry. He hadn't forgotten the meeting they had had in 1975. Berry had
promised that he would do nothing to hurt the Jackson family. However, he then seemed to encourage Michael's favourite brother,
Jermaine, to leave the group. It was a bit more complicated, but that's the way Michael chose to remember it. He also felt
that Motown had, as he put it, played ‘hard ball’ by preventing him and his brothers from using the name ‘Jackson 5’ at CBS.
In a sense, Michael had unfinished business with Berry and, like Diana Ross, was unsure about participating in a tribute to
him.

It was no surprise that Joseph thought the idea of a reunion was a good one. For him, it wasn't that he cared to pay tribute
to Berry Gordy (not likely!) but that he saw an opportunity to present the family singing group in the way he always believed
they should be presented: as a united front, brothers till the end. Joseph also saw an opportunity to parlay the group's reunion
into a major, money-making tour. The idea was sure to make Michael shudder, however Joseph was considering it, just the same.
‘He'll do what I tell him to do,’ Joseph said, confidentially. As usual, though, he had underestimated his son. Disregarding
Joseph's wishes, Michael discussed the matter with his other managers, Ron Weisner and Freddy DeMann and, also, his attorney,
John Branca. He then decided that he wasn't going to appear on the programme.