Chapter 9 - Tweedle-Tay's Story
March 14, 1998 - The Attic, Tulsa, Oklahoma
"Michaela!!! Hurry up!" I yelled, banging on the bathroom door. "How long do you have to spend in there?" Michaela had been in the bathroom since before I had gotten up, and I had gotten up twenty minutes ago. "How long have you been in there?"
"Oh, not too long!" she called back cheerfully. "Be patient Tweedle- Tay! I'll be out any second now."
I walked over to my bed and sat there waiting. Girls. How long did Michaela have to spend in the bathroom anyway? I only took five minutes to have a shower and get dressed. The bathroom door swung open and Michaela came out, spinning and jumping like a ballet dancer. When she reached the bed she grabbed me in a huge hug and kissed me quickly on the cheek. "Happy birthday Tweedle-Tay!" She quickly jumped off the bed and started to run around the room screaming, "It's our birthday! Happy birthday! Happy birthday!"
When Michaela had finally worn herself out she sat down on her bed giggling. "You'll have to excuse me, Tweedle-Tay," she said, her smile lighting up her entire face. "I have a tendency to get over excited on these sorts of occasions!" She started to giggle again. "Sorry about spending so long in the bathroom," she added, her eyes wide and apologetic.
"Oh no, that's okay," I said looking carefully at Michaela.
She frowned. "You can use it now."
"Oh, yes," I said, running quickly into the ensuite. Now I understood why my sister had spent so long in the bathroom. She was wearing a gorgeous purple feathered dress with matching ballet slippers and cream coloured stockings. She had put on only a little makeup and curled her hair slightly. I know it mustn't seem like much, but my twin sister had transformed herself from my pretty twin sister into a great beauty. She looked stunning. Sure, she was a little on the thin side, as we were only being fed once a day by our parents (a big meal, but still only once a day), but she looked gorgeous, like a model or something.
I quickly brushed my teeth, had a shower and put on some clothes. When I came out of the bathroom Michaela was playing "Just a Girl" by No Doubt and jumping around the room. "I'm sorry, Tweedle-Tay," she said unconvincingly, "You must think me so hyperactive. I'm acting like Grubbery or something. You know," she said, grabbing my hand, forcing me to jump around too, "It's really funny because a few weeks ago when we were watching Melrose Place, Lexi was being really 'lively' because she was on anti-depressants, and I'm acting like that anyway!"
"Are you high or something?" I asked, uncertainly.
"Oh, the only thing I'm high on is life!" she said, laughing.
"But we're locked in an attic, Michaela."
"But," she said meaningfully, "It's our birthday. Maybe our parents will bring us presents and good food today."
As though Michaela was making a prediction, at that moment our mother burst through the attic door. "What on earth do the two of you think you're doing?!" she said, turning down the stereo.
I sat down on the bed, pulling Michaela, who was still giggling, down with me. "Relax Mom, we're just playing some songs and having a little birthday party."
Our mother frowned. "Well stop it," she said. "Is she on drugs?" she added, looking at Michaela.
"No, we couldn't get any drugs up here even if we wanted to," I said, groaning.
Michaela finally stopped laughing. "I'm just happy because it's our birthday."
Mom smiled. "Oh yes. Well I'm happy too, but you really must keep the noise down. What if your father hears?"
Michaela and I just shrugged. Our mother smiled again. "Is that why you got dressed up?" she asked Michaela. My sister nodded. "Well," my mother said, "You look very pretty. The dress is a little big though. I have presents for the two of you downstairs, so I'll just go and get them now, okay?" Our mother quickly left the attic and locked the door.
Michaela looked slightly pissed off. "Of course the dress is a little big," she said. "I bought it in LA and due to a lack of food I've lost ten pounds since then."
"She did say you looked pretty," I soothed Michaela. "Although that is a bit of an understatement."
Michaela smiled. Our mother came up through the door carrying a heavy box. "Well?" she said. "Open it."
I tore open the box. It was a television. "Wow!" Michaela said excitedly. "Thanks!"
"This must have cost you a fortune," I added.
"Well," our mother said. "You can consider it your share in the Manson fortune. I thought the two of you might get a bit bored up here in the attic alone so I bought you this so you'd still know what was going on in the outside world. I also got you a few magazines," she said, handing Michaela Sixteen, Rolling Stone, and British Smash Hits.
"Thanks," Michaela said slowly.
"And," our mother said, her face lighting up, "Your hair is growing very long Tweedle-Tay, so I thought I'd give you both a little hair cut. Just three inches off you both."
Feeling pleased with our gifts, Michaela and I both let our mother cut our hair. She told us about the family, and our new baby sister Mozzie. Apparently everything was going well and Neut and Grub were getting used to not being heartthrobs. She never asked how we were. When she'd finished cutting our hair I said, "So Mom, it's great that you bought us all this stuff, but when will we be allowed out of the attic?"
"I can hardly be a threat to the band now that there is no band," Michaela added.
"I'm sorry sweetie," our mother said, apologetically. "But I can't see the two of you getting out of the attic any time soon. Your father is still very angry and would hate the idea of the two of you in his house."
"Then let us out of the house!" I said desperately.
"We'll go and live in one of my Grandma's houses. We'll be fine. I have an inheritance. We'll live off that," Michaela said.
"And I have the money I made from Manson," I added.
"Actually," our mother stuttered. "You don't. It's in a joint bank account. And you're kind of considered dead, so your personal bank account has been closed."
"Fuck that!" I yelled.
"That's Tweedle-Tay's money," Michaela said. "Tweedle-Tay was what made Manson what it was. Their current lack of popularity proves that."
Our mother looked as though she was about to cry. "I come up here, presenting you with gifts and love, and this is the thanks I get?" she said shaking. "I may as well not come up here at all."
Both Michaela and I remained silent.
"And I can't let you leave the house, not yet, you're my babies, and I want you close to me," she added, crying.
Michaela groaned. "But if you're not going to let us leave the house because you want us close to you and you're not going to let us leave the attic because our father doesn't want us in the house, what are you going to do?"
Our mother sighed. "I don't know."
"Are you going to wait until he dies or something?" I said sarcastically.
"Perhaps," our mother replied.
"This is so stupid!" Michaela screamed. "Last year, on my fourteenth birthday, I was upset because I couldn't have a party. This year, on my fifteenth birthday, I'm upset because I'm locked up in an attic, and I'll stay locked up in an attic for god knows how long!"
Our mother stood up, shaking. "As I said. I come up here trying to be nice. I buy you presents, talk to you, feed you, cut your hair!!!! And what thanks do I get? The two of you pick on me! Well I don't have to put up with this....." Our mother left the room, shaking and sobbing.
Perhaps if we had looked closer though, Michaela and I would have seen a smile playing on our mother's lips.
March 14, 1998 - The Attic, Tulsa, Oklahoma
"Michaela!!! Hurry up!" I yelled, banging on the bathroom door. "How long do you have to spend in there?" Michaela had been in the bathroom since before I had gotten up, and I had gotten up twenty minutes ago. "How long have you been in there?"
"Oh, not too long!" she called back cheerfully. "Be patient Tweedle- Tay! I'll be out any second now."
I walked over to my bed and sat there waiting. Girls. How long did Michaela have to spend in the bathroom anyway? I only took five minutes to have a shower and get dressed. The bathroom door swung open and Michaela came out, spinning and jumping like a ballet dancer. When she reached the bed she grabbed me in a huge hug and kissed me quickly on the cheek. "Happy birthday Tweedle-Tay!" She quickly jumped off the bed and started to run around the room screaming, "It's our birthday! Happy birthday! Happy birthday!"
When Michaela had finally worn herself out she sat down on her bed giggling. "You'll have to excuse me, Tweedle-Tay," she said, her smile lighting up her entire face. "I have a tendency to get over excited on these sorts of occasions!" She started to giggle again. "Sorry about spending so long in the bathroom," she added, her eyes wide and apologetic.
"Oh no, that's okay," I said looking carefully at Michaela.
She frowned. "You can use it now."
"Oh, yes," I said, running quickly into the ensuite. Now I understood why my sister had spent so long in the bathroom. She was wearing a gorgeous purple feathered dress with matching ballet slippers and cream coloured stockings. She had put on only a little makeup and curled her hair slightly. I know it mustn't seem like much, but my twin sister had transformed herself from my pretty twin sister into a great beauty. She looked stunning. Sure, she was a little on the thin side, as we were only being fed once a day by our parents (a big meal, but still only once a day), but she looked gorgeous, like a model or something.
I quickly brushed my teeth, had a shower and put on some clothes. When I came out of the bathroom Michaela was playing "Just a Girl" by No Doubt and jumping around the room. "I'm sorry, Tweedle-Tay," she said unconvincingly, "You must think me so hyperactive. I'm acting like Grubbery or something. You know," she said, grabbing my hand, forcing me to jump around too, "It's really funny because a few weeks ago when we were watching Melrose Place, Lexi was being really 'lively' because she was on anti-depressants, and I'm acting like that anyway!"
"Are you high or something?" I asked, uncertainly.
"Oh, the only thing I'm high on is life!" she said, laughing.
"But we're locked in an attic, Michaela."
"But," she said meaningfully, "It's our birthday. Maybe our parents will bring us presents and good food today."
As though Michaela was making a prediction, at that moment our mother burst through the attic door. "What on earth do the two of you think you're doing?!" she said, turning down the stereo.
I sat down on the bed, pulling Michaela, who was still giggling, down with me. "Relax Mom, we're just playing some songs and having a little birthday party."
Our mother frowned. "Well stop it," she said. "Is she on drugs?" she added, looking at Michaela.
"No, we couldn't get any drugs up here even if we wanted to," I said, groaning.
Michaela finally stopped laughing. "I'm just happy because it's our birthday."
Mom smiled. "Oh yes. Well I'm happy too, but you really must keep the noise down. What if your father hears?"
Michaela and I just shrugged. Our mother smiled again. "Is that why you got dressed up?" she asked Michaela. My sister nodded. "Well," my mother said, "You look very pretty. The dress is a little big though. I have presents for the two of you downstairs, so I'll just go and get them now, okay?" Our mother quickly left the attic and locked the door.
Michaela looked slightly pissed off. "Of course the dress is a little big," she said. "I bought it in LA and due to a lack of food I've lost ten pounds since then."
"She did say you looked pretty," I soothed Michaela. "Although that is a bit of an understatement."
Michaela smiled. Our mother came up through the door carrying a heavy box. "Well?" she said. "Open it."
I tore open the box. It was a television. "Wow!" Michaela said excitedly. "Thanks!"
"This must have cost you a fortune," I added.
"Well," our mother said. "You can consider it your share in the Manson fortune. I thought the two of you might get a bit bored up here in the attic alone so I bought you this so you'd still know what was going on in the outside world. I also got you a few magazines," she said, handing Michaela Sixteen, Rolling Stone, and British Smash Hits.
"Thanks," Michaela said slowly.
"And," our mother said, her face lighting up, "Your hair is growing very long Tweedle-Tay, so I thought I'd give you both a little hair cut. Just three inches off you both."
Feeling pleased with our gifts, Michaela and I both let our mother cut our hair. She told us about the family, and our new baby sister Mozzie. Apparently everything was going well and Neut and Grub were getting used to not being heartthrobs. She never asked how we were. When she'd finished cutting our hair I said, "So Mom, it's great that you bought us all this stuff, but when will we be allowed out of the attic?"
"I can hardly be a threat to the band now that there is no band," Michaela added.
"I'm sorry sweetie," our mother said, apologetically. "But I can't see the two of you getting out of the attic any time soon. Your father is still very angry and would hate the idea of the two of you in his house."
"Then let us out of the house!" I said desperately.
"We'll go and live in one of my Grandma's houses. We'll be fine. I have an inheritance. We'll live off that," Michaela said.
"And I have the money I made from Manson," I added.
"Actually," our mother stuttered. "You don't. It's in a joint bank account. And you're kind of considered dead, so your personal bank account has been closed."
"Fuck that!" I yelled.
"That's Tweedle-Tay's money," Michaela said. "Tweedle-Tay was what made Manson what it was. Their current lack of popularity proves that."
Our mother looked as though she was about to cry. "I come up here, presenting you with gifts and love, and this is the thanks I get?" she said shaking. "I may as well not come up here at all."
Both Michaela and I remained silent.
"And I can't let you leave the house, not yet, you're my babies, and I want you close to me," she added, crying.
Michaela groaned. "But if you're not going to let us leave the house because you want us close to you and you're not going to let us leave the attic because our father doesn't want us in the house, what are you going to do?"
Our mother sighed. "I don't know."
"Are you going to wait until he dies or something?" I said sarcastically.
"Perhaps," our mother replied.
"This is so stupid!" Michaela screamed. "Last year, on my fourteenth birthday, I was upset because I couldn't have a party. This year, on my fifteenth birthday, I'm upset because I'm locked up in an attic, and I'll stay locked up in an attic for god knows how long!"
Our mother stood up, shaking. "As I said. I come up here trying to be nice. I buy you presents, talk to you, feed you, cut your hair!!!! And what thanks do I get? The two of you pick on me! Well I don't have to put up with this....." Our mother left the room, shaking and sobbing.
Perhaps if we had looked closer though, Michaela and I would have seen a smile playing on our mother's lips.
