Chapter 6 - Tweedle-Tay's Story
November 19, 1997 - Tulsa, Oklahoma
Michaela opened the attic door and we ran down the stairs from the attic. Our mother had finally let us out and we were going to make the most of it. Our brothers Neuton and Grubbery were touring the United States and Europe for the next two months so the whole family (excluding Michaela and myself) had gone on vacation. Mom had unlocked the door around an hour ago when the rest of the family had left and instructed us to wait some time before we left. She had organised for the local grocer to drop off food to the house once every three days. Our house had two front doors and the grocer had been given the key to the outer door and I had been given the key to the inner door.
I ran down the stairs to the kitchen, following Michaela closely at her heels. Our mother had put a box filled with food on the kitchen bench. I began to unpack the box enthusiastically, excited by the idea of food that wasn't cold vegetables and luke warm meat, food that I hadn't seen for over a month.
"Ooooh, TimTams!" Michaela said excitedly, tearing open the packet of biscuits and shoving one into her mouth. "Mmmmmm," she said, falling back into a chair in ecstasy.
Seeing Michaela's joy, I stopped unpacking the food and took a biscuit myself. God, I understood how Michaela felt. The rich, sweet, creamy, chocolatey goodness filled my mouth. There was something special about chocolate when you hadn't had any in ages. It tasted so much sweeter, so much creamier when you really wanted it. The first TimTam always tasted so much better than the thirteenth one. With this in mind, I put the remainder of the packet in the fridge. Michaela reached for another biscuit, but there was nothing there. Her eyes fluttered open. "Tweedle-Tay!" she said impatiently. "Where'd the biscuits go?"
"I put them in the fridge," I replied. "We'll like them so much better that way."
"TimTam is better than a man," Michaela said, nodding copiously. "What else have we got?"
The basket was laden with goodies. Fruit, vegetables, breads, cereals, steaks....... but no fish. Mom had forgotten my favourite treat. I checked the fridge. "No brownies either!" I moaned.
Michaela looked at me, puzzled. I explained the legacy of our mother's delicious brownies. She seemed unfazed by this and began packing the food into the fridge. When we'd finished we sat back down. After all that time spent in the attic, we couldn't think of anything to do. Suddenly Michaela looked up and into my eyes. Her eyes were sparkling as though they had been taken captive by some internal fire. "Tweedle-Tay!" she said eagerly. "Let's go to the bathroom!" I couldn't for the life of me figure out why but as soon as we arrived I understood. There were scales in the bathroom. Michaela took off her shoes and stepped on carefully. "Shit!" she exclaimed.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"I weigh 105 lbs," she said bitterly, hopping off the scales. She motioned for me to step on. The scales read 107 lbs. "That's only because you've grown," Michaela said. "You must be around two inches taller than me now." Michaela dragged me over to the full length mirror. "Tweedle- Tay," you're looking less and less like me every day." She shook her head sadly. "If Neuton were to attempt to murder me today, he would certainly know who I was. Your nose is way too big for you to pass for me."
"Bitch!" I snapped, chasing her down the stairs.
That day was probably the most exciting day of all the time we spent out of the attic. We took photos of ourselves on Dad's Polaroid camera so that we could later leave them in the attic, we ate and ate and ate in hope of putting on weight and we held a disco in the den that night. Unfortunately the fun couldn't go on for the entire two months.....
***************************
Within a couple of days Michaela and I were spending most of our time watching television. Because of the lack of things to do we watched anything and everything, "Ricki Lake", "Judge Judy", old repeats of "Beverly Hills 90210" and "Days of Our Lives". Anyway it was lucky we were watching so much television because if it weren't for that we would never have tuned into Entertainment Tonight on the night that our brothers were holding their first concert. Both Michaela and I had wondered excessively about what our parents had said about my disappearance, and about how the fans were handling it but apart from Manson songs dropping from the number 1 song to the number 35 song on the nightly top forty countdown, there was nothing we could base our inferences on until that night that we were watching Entertainment Tonight.
Michaela was curled up on the couch reading the novel "Flowers in the Attic" which she seemed to think was very similar to our lives and I was picking out tunes on one of Neuton's spare guitars when we heard the headline that made us drop our respective novelties in shock. "Riots at Manson concert, a special report" the news reader said, as images of my brothers being pounded with rotten fruit and girls joining hands and singing rather than screaming covered the screen. According to the news report, I had run away from home with my girlfriend around a month ago and now the rest of Manson were trying to continue the band without me. However today's concert hadn't gone as planned because the fans were so distraught about my absence. Images of thousands of girls linking arms and singing filled the screen. "Where did he go, I wanna know, where did Tweedle-Tay go? ....... sometimes I wonder, maybe we're to blame....."
They liked me! They really liked me! They liked me so much that they wouldn't listen to the band unless I was there banging on the keyboards and singing...... Michaela smiled at me, "See, I told you. You are by far the most popular band member. The band can't survive without you," she said.
"It's only a matter of time until they let us out now," I said, trying my best to look cheerful. Inside though, I missed the band. I wanted to be up there on the stage, performing. I was certain that if I was there as well as my brothers, the girls would be screaming screams of joy rather than of anger.
We returned our attentions to the screen. The host was interviewing one of the girls in the audience of the concert. "Tweedle-Tay should come back to the band instead of hanging out with that retarded little whore girlfriend of his! There are other girls that would be happy to have him without splitting up the band...... like me!"
Michaela looked angry. "I am not a whore! You stupid little teenybopper slut!" she yelled at the screen.
"And you're not my girlfriend," I reminded her.
Our father's face came onto the television screen. The interviewer asked him if he would accept my girlfriend and ask me to come back to the band but he said that he would not accept my girlfriend and I had made my choice over the band and my girlfriend and that the band would eventually get by without me because, after all, this was only the first show.
I was so mad! How dare my parents make up lies like this! I picked up the phone and began to dial. "Tweedle-Tay! What on earth are you doing???" Michaela asked urgently.
"I'm dialing Entertainment Tonight to rectify these lies."
Michaela jumped off the couch and ran over to the phone, slamming the receiver down. "Don't be stupid Tweedle-Tay!" she said. "If you do that, we'll never escape form the attic. No one will believe you anyway, the police will probably come to our house and we'll get in trouble."
I folded my arms and pouted. "It's not fair," I said. "I deserve to be up there, with the screaming girls."
Michaela raised her eyebrows. "Tell me Tweedle-Tay, what about this is fair?"
***********************
Soon it was Christmas day, probably the worst Christmas day either of us ever experienced. It wasn't like we hated each other or anything and it wasn't as though we didn't have anything to eat (and don't get me wrong, we were grateful to be out of the attic), it was just really irritating to be locked up in the house. Neither of us could buy each other any Christmas presents because we couldn't get to the shops and we had tried to make each other presents, but, I don't know, it just wasn't the same. I know, I know, Christmas is supposed to be a time for giving, but we didn't have anything to give. Although we were both reasonably creative, our inspiration was gone.
For this particular Christmas day I had drawn Michaela a picture of Grubbery and Neuton having tomatoes thrown at them. The only thing was, the tomatoes weren't tomatoes, they were knives. I really can't blame Michaela, she tried to look impressed but it wasn't very convincing. I think she needed cheering up after not seeing any sunshine for two months, not depressing pictures of death. Anyway, her attempt at a cheerful present was just as pathetic.
Michaela had cut a heart out of red cardboard and stuck pictures of her on one side of it and pictures of me on the other side. In the centre of the heart there was a Polaroid of us together looking totally depressed. She had also cut out little blue cardboard tears and stuck them on the heart.
"Oh," I said. "So you don't like spending time with me?"
Michaela looked startled. "What on earth do you mean Tweedle-Tay?"
"In all the pictures where we are apart we look happy, in the picture where we are together we look sad," I said, waving around the card.
Michaela scowled. "For goodness sake Tweedle-Tay, if I had-"
"And that's another thing," I interrupted. "You always call me Tweedle-Tay! Why don't you ever call me Tay? My friends all call me Tay. Aren't you my friend?"
"Oh fuck you TAY! I am your friend, though god knows why I am. I hang out with you everyday -" Michaela complained.
"But only because you have to," I cut in.
"Would you stop interrupting me????? I even wore red today, just so I could look cheerful, and because I knew it was your favourite colour. I don't know why I bother," she said, exasperated.
"Well," I said. "I don't know why I bother. I would be a famous pop star if it weren't for you. I wish I'd chosen the band over you, because, Michaela Morgan, you are not a true Manson and you are just not worth it." I folded my arms triumphantly.
Michaela looked as though she'd been slapped in the face. Her lip began to quiver and her eyes brimmed with tears. She stuck her finger up. "I'm going back up to the attic," she said. "By choice." Michaela turned and began to walk swiftly to the stairs. "Merry Christmas Tweedle-Tay Manson."
I immediately began to feel guilty. "I'm sorry Kayla! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it," I said running after her. "Thank you god," I said sarcastically, as I ran up the stairs. "Thank you for all you've given us."
November 19, 1997 - Tulsa, Oklahoma
Michaela opened the attic door and we ran down the stairs from the attic. Our mother had finally let us out and we were going to make the most of it. Our brothers Neuton and Grubbery were touring the United States and Europe for the next two months so the whole family (excluding Michaela and myself) had gone on vacation. Mom had unlocked the door around an hour ago when the rest of the family had left and instructed us to wait some time before we left. She had organised for the local grocer to drop off food to the house once every three days. Our house had two front doors and the grocer had been given the key to the outer door and I had been given the key to the inner door.
I ran down the stairs to the kitchen, following Michaela closely at her heels. Our mother had put a box filled with food on the kitchen bench. I began to unpack the box enthusiastically, excited by the idea of food that wasn't cold vegetables and luke warm meat, food that I hadn't seen for over a month.
"Ooooh, TimTams!" Michaela said excitedly, tearing open the packet of biscuits and shoving one into her mouth. "Mmmmmm," she said, falling back into a chair in ecstasy.
Seeing Michaela's joy, I stopped unpacking the food and took a biscuit myself. God, I understood how Michaela felt. The rich, sweet, creamy, chocolatey goodness filled my mouth. There was something special about chocolate when you hadn't had any in ages. It tasted so much sweeter, so much creamier when you really wanted it. The first TimTam always tasted so much better than the thirteenth one. With this in mind, I put the remainder of the packet in the fridge. Michaela reached for another biscuit, but there was nothing there. Her eyes fluttered open. "Tweedle-Tay!" she said impatiently. "Where'd the biscuits go?"
"I put them in the fridge," I replied. "We'll like them so much better that way."
"TimTam is better than a man," Michaela said, nodding copiously. "What else have we got?"
The basket was laden with goodies. Fruit, vegetables, breads, cereals, steaks....... but no fish. Mom had forgotten my favourite treat. I checked the fridge. "No brownies either!" I moaned.
Michaela looked at me, puzzled. I explained the legacy of our mother's delicious brownies. She seemed unfazed by this and began packing the food into the fridge. When we'd finished we sat back down. After all that time spent in the attic, we couldn't think of anything to do. Suddenly Michaela looked up and into my eyes. Her eyes were sparkling as though they had been taken captive by some internal fire. "Tweedle-Tay!" she said eagerly. "Let's go to the bathroom!" I couldn't for the life of me figure out why but as soon as we arrived I understood. There were scales in the bathroom. Michaela took off her shoes and stepped on carefully. "Shit!" she exclaimed.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"I weigh 105 lbs," she said bitterly, hopping off the scales. She motioned for me to step on. The scales read 107 lbs. "That's only because you've grown," Michaela said. "You must be around two inches taller than me now." Michaela dragged me over to the full length mirror. "Tweedle- Tay," you're looking less and less like me every day." She shook her head sadly. "If Neuton were to attempt to murder me today, he would certainly know who I was. Your nose is way too big for you to pass for me."
"Bitch!" I snapped, chasing her down the stairs.
That day was probably the most exciting day of all the time we spent out of the attic. We took photos of ourselves on Dad's Polaroid camera so that we could later leave them in the attic, we ate and ate and ate in hope of putting on weight and we held a disco in the den that night. Unfortunately the fun couldn't go on for the entire two months.....
***************************
Within a couple of days Michaela and I were spending most of our time watching television. Because of the lack of things to do we watched anything and everything, "Ricki Lake", "Judge Judy", old repeats of "Beverly Hills 90210" and "Days of Our Lives". Anyway it was lucky we were watching so much television because if it weren't for that we would never have tuned into Entertainment Tonight on the night that our brothers were holding their first concert. Both Michaela and I had wondered excessively about what our parents had said about my disappearance, and about how the fans were handling it but apart from Manson songs dropping from the number 1 song to the number 35 song on the nightly top forty countdown, there was nothing we could base our inferences on until that night that we were watching Entertainment Tonight.
Michaela was curled up on the couch reading the novel "Flowers in the Attic" which she seemed to think was very similar to our lives and I was picking out tunes on one of Neuton's spare guitars when we heard the headline that made us drop our respective novelties in shock. "Riots at Manson concert, a special report" the news reader said, as images of my brothers being pounded with rotten fruit and girls joining hands and singing rather than screaming covered the screen. According to the news report, I had run away from home with my girlfriend around a month ago and now the rest of Manson were trying to continue the band without me. However today's concert hadn't gone as planned because the fans were so distraught about my absence. Images of thousands of girls linking arms and singing filled the screen. "Where did he go, I wanna know, where did Tweedle-Tay go? ....... sometimes I wonder, maybe we're to blame....."
They liked me! They really liked me! They liked me so much that they wouldn't listen to the band unless I was there banging on the keyboards and singing...... Michaela smiled at me, "See, I told you. You are by far the most popular band member. The band can't survive without you," she said.
"It's only a matter of time until they let us out now," I said, trying my best to look cheerful. Inside though, I missed the band. I wanted to be up there on the stage, performing. I was certain that if I was there as well as my brothers, the girls would be screaming screams of joy rather than of anger.
We returned our attentions to the screen. The host was interviewing one of the girls in the audience of the concert. "Tweedle-Tay should come back to the band instead of hanging out with that retarded little whore girlfriend of his! There are other girls that would be happy to have him without splitting up the band...... like me!"
Michaela looked angry. "I am not a whore! You stupid little teenybopper slut!" she yelled at the screen.
"And you're not my girlfriend," I reminded her.
Our father's face came onto the television screen. The interviewer asked him if he would accept my girlfriend and ask me to come back to the band but he said that he would not accept my girlfriend and I had made my choice over the band and my girlfriend and that the band would eventually get by without me because, after all, this was only the first show.
I was so mad! How dare my parents make up lies like this! I picked up the phone and began to dial. "Tweedle-Tay! What on earth are you doing???" Michaela asked urgently.
"I'm dialing Entertainment Tonight to rectify these lies."
Michaela jumped off the couch and ran over to the phone, slamming the receiver down. "Don't be stupid Tweedle-Tay!" she said. "If you do that, we'll never escape form the attic. No one will believe you anyway, the police will probably come to our house and we'll get in trouble."
I folded my arms and pouted. "It's not fair," I said. "I deserve to be up there, with the screaming girls."
Michaela raised her eyebrows. "Tell me Tweedle-Tay, what about this is fair?"
***********************
Soon it was Christmas day, probably the worst Christmas day either of us ever experienced. It wasn't like we hated each other or anything and it wasn't as though we didn't have anything to eat (and don't get me wrong, we were grateful to be out of the attic), it was just really irritating to be locked up in the house. Neither of us could buy each other any Christmas presents because we couldn't get to the shops and we had tried to make each other presents, but, I don't know, it just wasn't the same. I know, I know, Christmas is supposed to be a time for giving, but we didn't have anything to give. Although we were both reasonably creative, our inspiration was gone.
For this particular Christmas day I had drawn Michaela a picture of Grubbery and Neuton having tomatoes thrown at them. The only thing was, the tomatoes weren't tomatoes, they were knives. I really can't blame Michaela, she tried to look impressed but it wasn't very convincing. I think she needed cheering up after not seeing any sunshine for two months, not depressing pictures of death. Anyway, her attempt at a cheerful present was just as pathetic.
Michaela had cut a heart out of red cardboard and stuck pictures of her on one side of it and pictures of me on the other side. In the centre of the heart there was a Polaroid of us together looking totally depressed. She had also cut out little blue cardboard tears and stuck them on the heart.
"Oh," I said. "So you don't like spending time with me?"
Michaela looked startled. "What on earth do you mean Tweedle-Tay?"
"In all the pictures where we are apart we look happy, in the picture where we are together we look sad," I said, waving around the card.
Michaela scowled. "For goodness sake Tweedle-Tay, if I had-"
"And that's another thing," I interrupted. "You always call me Tweedle-Tay! Why don't you ever call me Tay? My friends all call me Tay. Aren't you my friend?"
"Oh fuck you TAY! I am your friend, though god knows why I am. I hang out with you everyday -" Michaela complained.
"But only because you have to," I cut in.
"Would you stop interrupting me????? I even wore red today, just so I could look cheerful, and because I knew it was your favourite colour. I don't know why I bother," she said, exasperated.
"Well," I said. "I don't know why I bother. I would be a famous pop star if it weren't for you. I wish I'd chosen the band over you, because, Michaela Morgan, you are not a true Manson and you are just not worth it." I folded my arms triumphantly.
Michaela looked as though she'd been slapped in the face. Her lip began to quiver and her eyes brimmed with tears. She stuck her finger up. "I'm going back up to the attic," she said. "By choice." Michaela turned and began to walk swiftly to the stairs. "Merry Christmas Tweedle-Tay Manson."
I immediately began to feel guilty. "I'm sorry Kayla! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it," I said running after her. "Thank you god," I said sarcastically, as I ran up the stairs. "Thank you for all you've given us."
