Chapter 3 - Michaela's Story
October 11, 1997 - Tulsa, Oklahoma
"I can't believe they're going to chuck us out of the house," Tweedle- Tay was saying.
Tweedle-Tay and I were in the room that he was sharing with Neuton and Grubbery. I was lying on his bed and he was pacing up and down and across the room. "Relax, Tay," I said, grabbing his brush from his dresser. I began to brush my hair. "They're only testing you. As soon as they see that you're not going to just leave me on the streets they'll come around and we'll all live happily ever after."
"Do you really think so? Cause Michaela, I hate to tell you this but this is not a fairy tale where everyone lives happily ever after. This is real life."
"Exactly," I said. "If this were a fairy tale our parents would lock us up under the stairs or something and we'd become all psychopathic and kill them!"
"That doesn't sound like a fairy tale to me, it sounds like Virginia Andrews or Melrose Place....."
"Same thing," I said, giggling.
"No. If this were a fairy tale, you'd be the beautiful princess and our parents would be the wicked step-mother and I would be the king, who the wicked stepmother was trying to corrupt." Tweedle-Tay sat down on the ground.
"You think? Oh Tay, that's so sweet.... I've always wanted to be a princess. Far-off places, daring sword fights, a prince in disguise....... But thanks to our father I'm the impossible princess. No, you're more of a prince than I am a princess. You're a pop prince."
"Yeah," Tay said. "Cause I'm just so hot and all the girls go for me."
I pulled the hair out of the brush. "Yuck Tay! This is disgusting! Don't you ever clean out your brush?"
"What do you mean?"
I sat up on the bed. "You're supposed to pull the hair out of the brush every time you brush your hair. And you should soak the brush once a fortnight," I smiled. "But don't you worry, because now I can sell this hair to some girls on the street..... Where are Neuton's and Grubbery's brushes?"
There was a knock on the door. "Come in!" Tweedle-Tay called. It was our mother. "Hi Mom!" he said.
"Kids, your father is really serious about throwing the two of you out of the house," she said, looking worried.
"And there's nothing you can do about it?" I asked doubtfully.
"No. He's made up his mind. And when Skipper Manson makes up his mind........ There's nothing I can do. Well actually there is one thing..... but it might be a little difficult," our mother continued.
"Well, what is it? We don't want to live on the streets," Tweedle- Tay asked.
"Well, you're father may not want the two of you in the house at the moment but I'm sure when he discovers how vital you are to the band Tweedle- Tay, he'll want you both back. The only problem is that by the time he realises this you'll both be two far away for us to get you back. So I was thinking that in the mean time, only for a few days or something, you can stay in the attic."
I listened to my mother carefully. Something about her idea was eerily familiar. An attic..... blonde children locked up in it....... oh well. "So, Tay and I are going to be living in the attic?"
My mother smiled widely. "Yes. You should pack up all of your things as though you are leaving the house, say goodbye to your brothers and sisters, everything exactly the same except that instead of going to the streets you'll be going to the attic. I'll bring you dinner every day and I'll carry your school books up for you."
"Thanks Mom," Tweedle-Tay said.
"That's very thorough of you..... to even let us bring our school books up. I thought we were only spending a few days in the attic," I commented.
"Oh, you are. But we wouldn't want you to get bored or anything. I want you to have plenty to do," my mother smiled again, a little too enthusiastically. "So you may as well start packing the two of you will be going upstairs in a couple of hours."
"Great." Tweedle-Tay was already pulling bags down from on top of his wardrobe.
"Bye darlings," my mother said, as she softly closed the door.
*******************
"What have you packed?" I asked my brother, lugging my bags into his bedroom.
"Every single thing I own," Tweedle-Tay said, pointing to the bags that surrounded his feet. "And you?"
"Um, Tay, we're only going to be there for a couple of days.... probably. Um, I've got all the clothes I bought here, my CDs, makeup, my Walkman.... you know, stuff."
"Makeup? What do you need makeup for? It's only going to be you and me up there."
I sighed. "It's the principle of the thing. I have to look my best. I can't just go around in grubby clothes and no makeup."
"What about me?" Grubbery asked.
"Hi Grub! I said grubby, not Grubbery!" I said to my little brother, trying to look cheerful.
"So," he said. "You two are leaving?"
"Yeah," Tweedle-Tay said. "Unfortunately."
Grubbery shook his head. "I can't believe this. What about the band? What are we going to do without you?"
I smiled. "I think you'll get by without me." Grubbery looked shocked. "I was just kidding. I know you were referring to Tweedle-Tay."
"So, why are they making you leave?" Grubbery asked.
"Ask Neuton," Tweedle-Tay said, looking more than a little pissed off.
"Actually, it would probably be better if you didn't," I laughed bitterly.
My mother popped her head around the door. "Kids? It's time for you to leave."
Grubbery hugged Tweedle-Tay and I and poked his tongue out at our mother. "Bye Tay, bye Kay. I love you. Life won't be the same without you both." He burst into tears and ran out of the room. I felt terrible and I could see the pain on Tweedle-Tay's face. No wonder. Tweedle-Tay and Grubbery hadn't spent more than a day apart in the past twelve years.
"After that little outburst perhaps it isn't the best idea to let you say good bye to the others," my mother said.
"Please Mom," Tweedle-Tay begged. "I have to say goodbye to Liz, and Kessie and Mackie and even Neuton, even if he was the one who made us leave."
I looked at our mother with wide eyes. "We have to help them understand."
"Actually, your brothers and sisters understanding is the last thing we want. If they understand they might be upset. Now come on, it's either the attic or the streets." She looked at our bags. "I think you'd have a hard time carrying the bags onto the streets."
Our mother walked us to a door which looked life a closet in the middle of the hallway. She opened it with a key and walked us up the old wooden staircase into the large room hidden in the roof of our house. It was surprisingly well furnished. There were two single beds on either side of the room, a dresser, even a en suite off to the side. "Wow," I said. "You sure fixed this up nicely for us."
She was slightly shocked. "Um, yes, well, you know, I want you to be comfortable." She dropped a pile of textbooks on the dresser. "Well, let's bring your bags upstairs."
When we'd finally brought all of Tweedle-Tay's numerous bags upstairs our mother left, telling us to "make ourselves comfortable." As I began to unpack my belongings I felt a strange wave of uncertainty inside me. Something told me that Tweedle-Tay and I would not be getting out of the attic anytime soon. I looked at Tweedle-Tay, so optimistic, so sure that our parents loved us but then I looked at the old beds, sitting there for decades, waiting for us....... Something just wasn't right.
October 11, 1997 - Tulsa, Oklahoma
"I can't believe they're going to chuck us out of the house," Tweedle- Tay was saying.
Tweedle-Tay and I were in the room that he was sharing with Neuton and Grubbery. I was lying on his bed and he was pacing up and down and across the room. "Relax, Tay," I said, grabbing his brush from his dresser. I began to brush my hair. "They're only testing you. As soon as they see that you're not going to just leave me on the streets they'll come around and we'll all live happily ever after."
"Do you really think so? Cause Michaela, I hate to tell you this but this is not a fairy tale where everyone lives happily ever after. This is real life."
"Exactly," I said. "If this were a fairy tale our parents would lock us up under the stairs or something and we'd become all psychopathic and kill them!"
"That doesn't sound like a fairy tale to me, it sounds like Virginia Andrews or Melrose Place....."
"Same thing," I said, giggling.
"No. If this were a fairy tale, you'd be the beautiful princess and our parents would be the wicked step-mother and I would be the king, who the wicked stepmother was trying to corrupt." Tweedle-Tay sat down on the ground.
"You think? Oh Tay, that's so sweet.... I've always wanted to be a princess. Far-off places, daring sword fights, a prince in disguise....... But thanks to our father I'm the impossible princess. No, you're more of a prince than I am a princess. You're a pop prince."
"Yeah," Tay said. "Cause I'm just so hot and all the girls go for me."
I pulled the hair out of the brush. "Yuck Tay! This is disgusting! Don't you ever clean out your brush?"
"What do you mean?"
I sat up on the bed. "You're supposed to pull the hair out of the brush every time you brush your hair. And you should soak the brush once a fortnight," I smiled. "But don't you worry, because now I can sell this hair to some girls on the street..... Where are Neuton's and Grubbery's brushes?"
There was a knock on the door. "Come in!" Tweedle-Tay called. It was our mother. "Hi Mom!" he said.
"Kids, your father is really serious about throwing the two of you out of the house," she said, looking worried.
"And there's nothing you can do about it?" I asked doubtfully.
"No. He's made up his mind. And when Skipper Manson makes up his mind........ There's nothing I can do. Well actually there is one thing..... but it might be a little difficult," our mother continued.
"Well, what is it? We don't want to live on the streets," Tweedle- Tay asked.
"Well, you're father may not want the two of you in the house at the moment but I'm sure when he discovers how vital you are to the band Tweedle- Tay, he'll want you both back. The only problem is that by the time he realises this you'll both be two far away for us to get you back. So I was thinking that in the mean time, only for a few days or something, you can stay in the attic."
I listened to my mother carefully. Something about her idea was eerily familiar. An attic..... blonde children locked up in it....... oh well. "So, Tay and I are going to be living in the attic?"
My mother smiled widely. "Yes. You should pack up all of your things as though you are leaving the house, say goodbye to your brothers and sisters, everything exactly the same except that instead of going to the streets you'll be going to the attic. I'll bring you dinner every day and I'll carry your school books up for you."
"Thanks Mom," Tweedle-Tay said.
"That's very thorough of you..... to even let us bring our school books up. I thought we were only spending a few days in the attic," I commented.
"Oh, you are. But we wouldn't want you to get bored or anything. I want you to have plenty to do," my mother smiled again, a little too enthusiastically. "So you may as well start packing the two of you will be going upstairs in a couple of hours."
"Great." Tweedle-Tay was already pulling bags down from on top of his wardrobe.
"Bye darlings," my mother said, as she softly closed the door.
*******************
"What have you packed?" I asked my brother, lugging my bags into his bedroom.
"Every single thing I own," Tweedle-Tay said, pointing to the bags that surrounded his feet. "And you?"
"Um, Tay, we're only going to be there for a couple of days.... probably. Um, I've got all the clothes I bought here, my CDs, makeup, my Walkman.... you know, stuff."
"Makeup? What do you need makeup for? It's only going to be you and me up there."
I sighed. "It's the principle of the thing. I have to look my best. I can't just go around in grubby clothes and no makeup."
"What about me?" Grubbery asked.
"Hi Grub! I said grubby, not Grubbery!" I said to my little brother, trying to look cheerful.
"So," he said. "You two are leaving?"
"Yeah," Tweedle-Tay said. "Unfortunately."
Grubbery shook his head. "I can't believe this. What about the band? What are we going to do without you?"
I smiled. "I think you'll get by without me." Grubbery looked shocked. "I was just kidding. I know you were referring to Tweedle-Tay."
"So, why are they making you leave?" Grubbery asked.
"Ask Neuton," Tweedle-Tay said, looking more than a little pissed off.
"Actually, it would probably be better if you didn't," I laughed bitterly.
My mother popped her head around the door. "Kids? It's time for you to leave."
Grubbery hugged Tweedle-Tay and I and poked his tongue out at our mother. "Bye Tay, bye Kay. I love you. Life won't be the same without you both." He burst into tears and ran out of the room. I felt terrible and I could see the pain on Tweedle-Tay's face. No wonder. Tweedle-Tay and Grubbery hadn't spent more than a day apart in the past twelve years.
"After that little outburst perhaps it isn't the best idea to let you say good bye to the others," my mother said.
"Please Mom," Tweedle-Tay begged. "I have to say goodbye to Liz, and Kessie and Mackie and even Neuton, even if he was the one who made us leave."
I looked at our mother with wide eyes. "We have to help them understand."
"Actually, your brothers and sisters understanding is the last thing we want. If they understand they might be upset. Now come on, it's either the attic or the streets." She looked at our bags. "I think you'd have a hard time carrying the bags onto the streets."
Our mother walked us to a door which looked life a closet in the middle of the hallway. She opened it with a key and walked us up the old wooden staircase into the large room hidden in the roof of our house. It was surprisingly well furnished. There were two single beds on either side of the room, a dresser, even a en suite off to the side. "Wow," I said. "You sure fixed this up nicely for us."
She was slightly shocked. "Um, yes, well, you know, I want you to be comfortable." She dropped a pile of textbooks on the dresser. "Well, let's bring your bags upstairs."
When we'd finally brought all of Tweedle-Tay's numerous bags upstairs our mother left, telling us to "make ourselves comfortable." As I began to unpack my belongings I felt a strange wave of uncertainty inside me. Something told me that Tweedle-Tay and I would not be getting out of the attic anytime soon. I looked at Tweedle-Tay, so optimistic, so sure that our parents loved us but then I looked at the old beds, sitting there for decades, waiting for us....... Something just wasn't right.
