Chapter 16 - "Can't Hide The Past" - Tweedle-Tay's Story
March 20th, 2000 - Beverly Hills, California
Damn Michaela! She'd left the house on the night of our party and left all the chores along with it. Not only did I have to clean up the house and do my usual chores, but I also had to do the shopping myself AND clean up the sheets, which was Michaela's job. I didn't know for sure what had gone on at our party, but I had a pretty good idea, considering the stains on my sheets. The only plus about Michaela not being here was that I got to sleep in her bed that night and leave the washing until Sunday morning. And today Michaela hadn't turned up at school either.....
I was actually more worried about her than pissed off. Michaela wasn't one to jig, even though she was friends with the people she was friends with. Something must have gone wrong at the party and caused her to leave, but it would have been nice if she'd told me about it. No one could tell me anything about what might have made her leave, except Gwen, who told me something about Michaela apologising to her.
The radio started to play "MMMPop". Great. That was all I needed. A reminder of my teenybopper past, along with a missing sister. Luckily I was half way down the driveway and only had to listen to it up until the end of the first verse. I stopped the car and got out, pulling the groceries from the back seat. They were heavy without Michaela there to carry half of them. I walked up to the front door fumbling with the keys. I opened the door and ran into the kitchen, putting the food down on the bench. I was just starting to unpack the food when I heard noises coming from the lounge room. I stopped what I was doing and listened.
"I'm Betsy and I'm in charge now and you're not getting out until I say you are," a high pitched voice was saying.
I recognised it immediately. 'Melrose Place' repeats. Michaela and I had watched so many episodes of that while we were in the attic that I'd have recognised that episode - Michaela's and my favourite - anywhere. Michaela was home! If someone had broken into our house while I was out, they wouldn't be sitting in the lounge room watching soap operas. Oh yeah, and then there was the fact that our usual car had been sitting in the driveway..... I guess I'd failed to notice that.
I put the perishables in the fridge and quickly made my way to the lounge room. Michaela was curled up on the lounge rhythmically spooning ice-cream into her mouth. There were two empty containers sitting next to the couch on the floor. I walked over and grabbed the ice-cream and spoon away from her.
She looked up. "Hey! Give it back! I was eating that!" she said.
I frowned and sat down on the other end of the couch. "I think you've eaten enough today."
Michaela looked pissed off. "Oh really? And since when are you in charge of the body police?"
I rolled my eyes. "I'm not. You have my metabolism, you won't get fat regardless of what you eat. But you're going to make yourself sick."
"Well then maybe my body will match my mind."
I looked at Michaela. Perhaps I should change my tactics. "Why did you leave our party?"
"I wasn't having any fun."
"Michaela, you don't leave home for two days because you're birthday party isn't fun. That shows-" I began.
"A fucked up mind?" Michaela asked. "Because if that was what you were going to say, you'd be right."
"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked.
Michaela sighed dramatically. "God Tweedle-Tay! Think about it. Our lives are fucked. I mean, I don't know about yours, but mine sure is. Things aren't right and they haven't been right since the day our grandmother died. Maybe they would have been alright if we'd never met, but -"
"So you don't like me?" I asked, confused. Michaela and I were best friends, and here she was saying she wished she'd never met me.
Michaela looked pained. "Of course I like you Tay," she said earnestly. "I just don't like the situation we've been in, the situation we're always in and we're always going to be in."
"Do you have PMS?" I asked. She gave me a look. "I'm sorry," I apologised. "But you're always so happy..... you're a cheerleader, you're popular and you really love Rod."
"I HATE ROD!!!!!" Michaela screamed, sitting up. "HE'S A BASTARD!" She quickly composed herself. "Tay, being a cheerleader isn't everything. It's nothing. It's just jumping up and down and smiling and acting like nothing but a big bimbo...." She paused. "All that stuff is so superficial anyway." Michaela took my hand. "Tay, don't you ever think about the past?"
I wasn't quite sure which part of the past Michaela was referring to. "The past.......? Sure, I think about childhood, about the band, about....."
"About the attic."
I looked up at the ceiling, avoiding Michaela's penetrating gaze. "I guess so. Sometimes."
"And when you think about the attic, don't you feel this deep unrest that you can't get rid of?" Michaela looked into my eyes deeply, making it impossible for me to lie.
Still, it was creepy how close to the truth she was. I gulped. "Well yeah...... But Michaela, we mustn't think about the attic. It's pointless. We'll never be happy if we think about the attic. We have to move on."
Michaela dropped my hand. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Tweedle-Tay. I tried to do that, and look at me. I became an idiot. We can't hide the past..... You know, our lives would be so different right now if our father wasn't morally inept. He'd have let me stay at your house, you'd still be a pop star and everyone would be happy."
"If our father hadn't been morally inept, he'd never have sent you away in the first place," I said, pointing out what I considered to be the obvious.
For some reason this cheered Michaela up to no end. "That would have been so great!" she said enthusiastically. "We would have been like proper twins. We would have had heaps of birthday parties and played heaps of games and we wouldn't have been in the attic and you wouldn't have......"
Michaela left a silence where the obvious lay. "Yeah," I said eventually. "That would have been good."
Michaela frowned. "But it wouldn't have happened. If our father hadn't been so morally inept he and our mother would never have...... committed incest." Michaela paused. "We never would have been born."
Well, that certainly brightened up my day. "So, what actually brought all of this on..... this depression, this deep thought about the past?" I asked.
Michaela blushed. "Well Rod and I, we were going to have sex and.... look, I don't want to tell you this."
"Then who are you ever going to tell?"
"Okay, I had flash-backs to when you raped me," Michaela said quickly in a matter of fact tone.
I frowned. Fuck. What was wrong with me? My infatuations would forever cast a shadow on our lives. Wow. That sounded like Virginia Andrews. I'd have to use it for a creative writing assignment. "What happened in my room - with my sheets?"
Michaela actually giggled. "Kristy and Brad!" She grimaced. "Disgusting, I know."
"When are you coming back to school?" I said, happy that the conversation was moving to more up-beat topics.
A shadow fell over Michaela's face. "Oh Tweedle-Tay, I don't want to go back yet!" she moaned, lying back down on the couch.
I groaned. Back to the depressing stuff. "Why not?" I asked, trying to hide the fact that I was pissed off.
"There's no point. Don't you get it? I'm sick of our lives. I'm sick of the depressing parts, I'm sick of the stupid, frivolous parts. I don't want to go back to school. There's no point....." Michaela whined, screwing up her face.
God she looked awful when she did that. "What about graduating from high school?" I said sarcastically. "Look, Michaela, you can't just sit there forever doing nothing. Sure, I'm traumatised by the attic too, but you don't see me jigging -" I began, more kindly.
"You? Traumatised? Why would you be traumatised?" Michaela asked in shock.
"I was rejected by our parents too....." I said, hurt. "You know, sure, you've had bad things happen to you, but I gave up a lot for you so don't give me selfish shit Michaela........" She said nothing. No wonder. "Look, you say you don't want to go to school because of the attic, but what else are you going to do? What can we do about the attic?" I paused. Michaela did not cut in. "We can't do anything, so until you come up with something we may as well just go to school. Not everyone there is a superficial bimbo like Cordelia. Who you hang out with is a matter of choice, especially for someone like you Michaela," I said, throwing on a compliment at the end for good measure. "So are you coming to school tomorrow?"
Michaela looked up at me and did a half-smile. "I'll come back to school, but not tomorrow. I'm not ready yet. I'm too depressed," she said, trying to look innocent.
I knew she was upset though so I didn't comment. "Okay, but you will come on Wednesday?"
Michaela nodded.
"Good. Come on, help me unpack the groceries," I said, taking her hand and pulling her up off the couch.
"Okay Tay," she said softly.
We walked into the kitchen. Lying on the couch eating ice-cream wasn't my idea of a good way to handle depression, but if it worked for Michaela that was fine with me.
March 20th, 2000 - Beverly Hills, California
Damn Michaela! She'd left the house on the night of our party and left all the chores along with it. Not only did I have to clean up the house and do my usual chores, but I also had to do the shopping myself AND clean up the sheets, which was Michaela's job. I didn't know for sure what had gone on at our party, but I had a pretty good idea, considering the stains on my sheets. The only plus about Michaela not being here was that I got to sleep in her bed that night and leave the washing until Sunday morning. And today Michaela hadn't turned up at school either.....
I was actually more worried about her than pissed off. Michaela wasn't one to jig, even though she was friends with the people she was friends with. Something must have gone wrong at the party and caused her to leave, but it would have been nice if she'd told me about it. No one could tell me anything about what might have made her leave, except Gwen, who told me something about Michaela apologising to her.
The radio started to play "MMMPop". Great. That was all I needed. A reminder of my teenybopper past, along with a missing sister. Luckily I was half way down the driveway and only had to listen to it up until the end of the first verse. I stopped the car and got out, pulling the groceries from the back seat. They were heavy without Michaela there to carry half of them. I walked up to the front door fumbling with the keys. I opened the door and ran into the kitchen, putting the food down on the bench. I was just starting to unpack the food when I heard noises coming from the lounge room. I stopped what I was doing and listened.
"I'm Betsy and I'm in charge now and you're not getting out until I say you are," a high pitched voice was saying.
I recognised it immediately. 'Melrose Place' repeats. Michaela and I had watched so many episodes of that while we were in the attic that I'd have recognised that episode - Michaela's and my favourite - anywhere. Michaela was home! If someone had broken into our house while I was out, they wouldn't be sitting in the lounge room watching soap operas. Oh yeah, and then there was the fact that our usual car had been sitting in the driveway..... I guess I'd failed to notice that.
I put the perishables in the fridge and quickly made my way to the lounge room. Michaela was curled up on the lounge rhythmically spooning ice-cream into her mouth. There were two empty containers sitting next to the couch on the floor. I walked over and grabbed the ice-cream and spoon away from her.
She looked up. "Hey! Give it back! I was eating that!" she said.
I frowned and sat down on the other end of the couch. "I think you've eaten enough today."
Michaela looked pissed off. "Oh really? And since when are you in charge of the body police?"
I rolled my eyes. "I'm not. You have my metabolism, you won't get fat regardless of what you eat. But you're going to make yourself sick."
"Well then maybe my body will match my mind."
I looked at Michaela. Perhaps I should change my tactics. "Why did you leave our party?"
"I wasn't having any fun."
"Michaela, you don't leave home for two days because you're birthday party isn't fun. That shows-" I began.
"A fucked up mind?" Michaela asked. "Because if that was what you were going to say, you'd be right."
"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked.
Michaela sighed dramatically. "God Tweedle-Tay! Think about it. Our lives are fucked. I mean, I don't know about yours, but mine sure is. Things aren't right and they haven't been right since the day our grandmother died. Maybe they would have been alright if we'd never met, but -"
"So you don't like me?" I asked, confused. Michaela and I were best friends, and here she was saying she wished she'd never met me.
Michaela looked pained. "Of course I like you Tay," she said earnestly. "I just don't like the situation we've been in, the situation we're always in and we're always going to be in."
"Do you have PMS?" I asked. She gave me a look. "I'm sorry," I apologised. "But you're always so happy..... you're a cheerleader, you're popular and you really love Rod."
"I HATE ROD!!!!!" Michaela screamed, sitting up. "HE'S A BASTARD!" She quickly composed herself. "Tay, being a cheerleader isn't everything. It's nothing. It's just jumping up and down and smiling and acting like nothing but a big bimbo...." She paused. "All that stuff is so superficial anyway." Michaela took my hand. "Tay, don't you ever think about the past?"
I wasn't quite sure which part of the past Michaela was referring to. "The past.......? Sure, I think about childhood, about the band, about....."
"About the attic."
I looked up at the ceiling, avoiding Michaela's penetrating gaze. "I guess so. Sometimes."
"And when you think about the attic, don't you feel this deep unrest that you can't get rid of?" Michaela looked into my eyes deeply, making it impossible for me to lie.
Still, it was creepy how close to the truth she was. I gulped. "Well yeah...... But Michaela, we mustn't think about the attic. It's pointless. We'll never be happy if we think about the attic. We have to move on."
Michaela dropped my hand. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Tweedle-Tay. I tried to do that, and look at me. I became an idiot. We can't hide the past..... You know, our lives would be so different right now if our father wasn't morally inept. He'd have let me stay at your house, you'd still be a pop star and everyone would be happy."
"If our father hadn't been morally inept, he'd never have sent you away in the first place," I said, pointing out what I considered to be the obvious.
For some reason this cheered Michaela up to no end. "That would have been so great!" she said enthusiastically. "We would have been like proper twins. We would have had heaps of birthday parties and played heaps of games and we wouldn't have been in the attic and you wouldn't have......"
Michaela left a silence where the obvious lay. "Yeah," I said eventually. "That would have been good."
Michaela frowned. "But it wouldn't have happened. If our father hadn't been so morally inept he and our mother would never have...... committed incest." Michaela paused. "We never would have been born."
Well, that certainly brightened up my day. "So, what actually brought all of this on..... this depression, this deep thought about the past?" I asked.
Michaela blushed. "Well Rod and I, we were going to have sex and.... look, I don't want to tell you this."
"Then who are you ever going to tell?"
"Okay, I had flash-backs to when you raped me," Michaela said quickly in a matter of fact tone.
I frowned. Fuck. What was wrong with me? My infatuations would forever cast a shadow on our lives. Wow. That sounded like Virginia Andrews. I'd have to use it for a creative writing assignment. "What happened in my room - with my sheets?"
Michaela actually giggled. "Kristy and Brad!" She grimaced. "Disgusting, I know."
"When are you coming back to school?" I said, happy that the conversation was moving to more up-beat topics.
A shadow fell over Michaela's face. "Oh Tweedle-Tay, I don't want to go back yet!" she moaned, lying back down on the couch.
I groaned. Back to the depressing stuff. "Why not?" I asked, trying to hide the fact that I was pissed off.
"There's no point. Don't you get it? I'm sick of our lives. I'm sick of the depressing parts, I'm sick of the stupid, frivolous parts. I don't want to go back to school. There's no point....." Michaela whined, screwing up her face.
God she looked awful when she did that. "What about graduating from high school?" I said sarcastically. "Look, Michaela, you can't just sit there forever doing nothing. Sure, I'm traumatised by the attic too, but you don't see me jigging -" I began, more kindly.
"You? Traumatised? Why would you be traumatised?" Michaela asked in shock.
"I was rejected by our parents too....." I said, hurt. "You know, sure, you've had bad things happen to you, but I gave up a lot for you so don't give me selfish shit Michaela........" She said nothing. No wonder. "Look, you say you don't want to go to school because of the attic, but what else are you going to do? What can we do about the attic?" I paused. Michaela did not cut in. "We can't do anything, so until you come up with something we may as well just go to school. Not everyone there is a superficial bimbo like Cordelia. Who you hang out with is a matter of choice, especially for someone like you Michaela," I said, throwing on a compliment at the end for good measure. "So are you coming to school tomorrow?"
Michaela looked up at me and did a half-smile. "I'll come back to school, but not tomorrow. I'm not ready yet. I'm too depressed," she said, trying to look innocent.
I knew she was upset though so I didn't comment. "Okay, but you will come on Wednesday?"
Michaela nodded.
"Good. Come on, help me unpack the groceries," I said, taking her hand and pulling her up off the couch.
"Okay Tay," she said softly.
We walked into the kitchen. Lying on the couch eating ice-cream wasn't my idea of a good way to handle depression, but if it worked for Michaela that was fine with me.
