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Chapter 27

“Do you ever just get so mad at those reporters that you think up ways that you could harm them?” Malania asked me in a quiet, thoughtful way as we watched out the car window. It had been a silent ride for most of the way to the courthouse, though now that we were near and my stomach was knotting up, we casually watched the paparazzi and press go insane around the convoy of cars, trying to figure out which one I was inside.

Thank god for tinted windows.

“Hmm?” I managed to catch her question though it had taken me a few minutes to bring myself out of the clouds in my head.

“Do you ever want to punish these imbeciles?” she asked again patiently.

I smiled briefly out the window and shrugged. “What good would that do?”

She didn’t really answer. The whole way she held my hand. Her fingers were laced through mine and we sat side-by-side, arm-to-arm, feeling tense and respectively nervous for the afternoon ahead.

It was the first time I’d ever seen her dressed up and had I not been in such a dark mood, I’d have probably taken much more notice and paid a much keener eye to the details. I did manage to at least tell her that she looked beautiful.

I didn’t know much about women’s fashion, but I knew that her style was a whole lot more conservative than I’d have thought, or maybe her choice of clothing was based solely upon the purpose of day. She was dressed very simply in a navy blue long-sleeved pencil-dress with a white peter-pan neck and cuffs and a matching thin, white cloth belt. She wore a pair of navy heels that gave her a couple more of inches height against me.

“Are you okay?” she asked me in a quiet voice as if she was afraid I’d say no.

I wasn’t okay, I was scared and nauseous and bordering on getting a case of the shakes. “The sooner we get this afternoon over with, the better I’ll feel.” I worried about her too, being taken from the hospital back home by her parents, all for this; for me.

“What about you?” I asked, “how are you coping?”

“I’m fine, Michael, I’m here for you…to hold your hand today, to be a friend to you.”

I lifted her hand and kissed the back of it; the only thing that I could think to do that wasn’t a gesture too over-the-top.

“I’m scared that I might cry when I hear the charges being read out…” I admitted freely to my friend.

“If you cry its because you are human and because you’re worried. Its not an indication of weakness or a sign that you feel guilty, Michael,” she told me. “And if you do cry, I’ll be with you.”

“You won’t think I’m less of a man?” I asked quietly.

“Well, yes, I definitely will think that and I’ll heckle you until my throat is hoarse, but hopefully our friendship will make it past that,” she answered so matter-of-factly that I actually wasn’t sure if I wanted to burst in to tears or in to laughter—possibly both.

I went with the laughter. I was so very glad for the comedy relief. She laughed with me too but when it subsided, she became serious. “Michael, you are human. Men, women, children—we all cry. I won’t think any less of you. God, I’ve been locked up basically in an asylum for the past month --- almost, and you’ve not judged me…”

“You’re not in an asylum,” I told her almost sternly. We had arrived and almost immediately all I could hear were the deafening chants of my name. It was a burst of strength that I needed, the fuel that spurred me on. Medicine – it was like medicine, the love and the support, I could hear it, I could feel it in the chants.

“I told you everyone would be here for you!” Malania told me, her eyes were a little wide with shock. People were closing in around the cars, being held back by a fence of burly police officers. I couldn’t help but feel a little bit pleased that their job was to protect me given that their job had been to find evidence against me just a month back.

I saw brightly coloured signs with clever catch-cries and slogans that proclaimed my innocence. It really did boost my confidence. I couldn’t help myself, I wound the window down around about half-way so that the fans could see my face. I reached out and waved, letting them know I was acknowledging them.

“Michael, be careful!” Malania exclaimed. I turned back to her and smiled.

“You never minded when you were on the other side of the window!” She cocked her head to the side and gave me a sarcastic smile as if the joke irritated her.

“I love you!” I cried out the window. Fans erupted in to full blown pandemonium.

“We love you! We love you! We love you!” they shouted, followed by “innocent! Innocent! Innocent!” I kept on waving and smiling and blowing kisses. It was exactly what I needed. I had been so scared of the amount of fans I was concerned that I might of lost. I was concerned about turning up to court with people shouting abuse at me.

But this was wonderful, my fans helped. Malania helped too, after all, she was my biggest fan, the number one supporter—always in my corner and always on my side.

I glanced at her as I wound the window back up. She was looking worried and even tenser. I smiled at her, feeling a bit brighter. She really did look gorgeous. Her hair was pulled back and tied behind her head, her sleek pony tail rested over one shoulder. And for the first time I noticed the demure set of pearl earrings in each ear.

She looked elegant and sweet. I loved conservatively dressed women—a woman who could look sexy without having to show too much skin. Perhaps that made me a little chauvinistic, but I wasn’t totally in to girls who were willing to just let everyone see everything.

Concentrate, Michael… It wasn’t really the time to be thinking about my growing attraction to the girl beside me. Instead, I needed to focus on the hearing.  

The car pulled to a stop and the chats grew louder and more passionate. There were gates enclosing the courthouse that allowed us to get in and out of the cars without any issues. I was thankful for that, it could have been a huge mob situation.

I had promised Malania’s parents that I would make sure everything was secure and that no one could harm her.

I was happy that the judge had banned all cameras from the courtroom and they were treating the case sensitively because of the involvement of a child.

“Here we go…” I murmured to Malania as someone opened a door for me. I slid out of the car and reached my hand in to help her out. I waited for her patiently as she subtly adjusted her dress. I grabbed Malania’s hand and made my way slowly to my parent’s car that had just pulled to a stop behind ours.

I waved and blew kisses to the fans who were chanting behind the gates, but mostly I told myself I needed to focus and not get caught up. I wanted the judge and the prosecution to realise that I was taking this seriously. I opened up the back door of the car for my Mom, letting go of Malania for the second.

My father was closest to the door and hopped out first. He helped my Mom out. Sometimes they acted like they disliked each other, that their marriage was just for show – but little instances where he still showed her chivalry; it allowed me to know that he still cared for her.

“Hi Joseph,” I greeted him. We were all supposed to meet at Neverland in the morning, but they’d been held up trying to escape the media back at Hayvenhurst. I knew Malania must have been freaking out by the idea of meeting my parents.

“Hello Michael, how are you?” he asked me, looking around at the crowd and giving a wave while my mother smiled at me in that warm, loving, piteous way that she always did.

“I’m fine,” I told him. “Hi mother,” I smiled. She leaned in and hugged me tightly, almost squeezing the air out of me.

She went to say something, but Malania stood looking awkward and uncomfortable. “Mother, Joseph, this is my friend, Malania…”

“Hello,” my mother greeted her and took her hand in both of her own, “thank you for being here with us…”

“Of course,” Malania smiled. Joseph gave her the once over; nothing unusual but he was surprisingly nice to her. Generally, he didn’t regard the women that showed face in our family with much importance.

“Nice to meet you,” he shook her hand.

“You too,” Malania nodded.

Greg paced over to us and greeted my mother and father first and then Malania and I. I took her hand again and gave it a squeeze. “Come on guys, we better go in, apparently they are waiting on us.”

I tried not to drag my feet, but the clip-clop of Malania’s heels and the squeak of my own loafers on the wooded floorboards in the entrance of the courthouse just cemented the fact that we were stepping closer to my doom.

I realised that I was holding my breath as the security team scanned us all as we went inside. I was frightened of how normal it seemed inside. It didn’t seem like a fiery hell pit of doom, but all the public seating were filled by reporters and somehow a handful of fans that took up the back rows. I was surprised by that, but I was glad to have someone supporting me besides my closest family and friend.

The carpet an ugly green colour and all of the public seating reminded me of church pews which couldn’t have been comfortable. Greg whispered that he didn’t think the hearing would take more than 10 minutes.

My eyes were drawn to the floor as we headed up the middle of the aisle toward the defendants side. As we drew close to the front, I saw her. My stomach dropped almost in to my feet.

We met eyes for the tiniest, split of a second but she looked away first – guilt? Remorse? Sadness? I wasn’t sure, but there was something so heartbreaking about seeing her.

I felt Malania squeeze my hand again. Maybe she’d spied the interchange between us, I wasn’t sure. Either way, she was incredibly intuitive. She gripped my hand and held her other on my forearm as if she were trying to keep me upright.

Diana looked exactly like she always did, yet entirely changed. I knew everything was taking a toll on her too; it had to have been. I was disappointed that Casey was nowhere to be found. I had a stupid fantasy that she would glimpse me and come running out from her mother’s close watch. I would have swept her up in my arms and cuddled her close and apologised for being away for so long despite it not being my fault.

Diane would see our closeness and bond and realise she’d made a mistake, that the things she was alleging was nothing I was ever capable of and she’d drop the charges.

I felt myself get a little choked up.

We took our seats and the judge brought the courtroom to order.

Malania was seated right behind next to me and Greg sat on the other. My parents had seats behind me.

I was read my constitutional rights before anything began.

“You’re pleading ‘not guilty’,” Greg reminded me.

“Obviously,” I muttered.

“The four charges in the case of Jackson vs Hargrove are as follows;

1.    The sexual exploitation of a minor.
2. The transportation of a minor across state or international lines for immoral purposes.
3. Lewd and lavicious acts upon a child.
4. Wilful and unlawful lewd acts upon and with the body and certain parts of Jane Doe, a child of age 4 with the intent of gratifying the sexual desires of the defendant.”

I felt winded and disgusted. I could barely breathe. I knew Malania could tell because she put an arm around me and gave me a squeeze. I tried my very best to compose myself.

“Mr. Jackson, how do you plead to these charges?” the judge asked me.

Both Greg and I stood up. I was incredibly wobbly on my legs. “Not guilty.” I spoke in an almost inaudible voice in to the microphone. I could have broken down, I could have sobbed my innocence and begged and pleaded with them to believe me, but I had to be strong. I couldn’t let them get the best of me.

I did hear sobbing coming from Diane’s side, though. I could hear her crying and I felt awful but this was my life. I was sorry that she had it so wrong. I remembered back to when my instinct was to console her, but something had changed; my innate need to always be her comforter was gone. There had been too much distance, too much distrust…. Betrayal.

“To all charges?” the judge pressed.

“My client pleads not guilty to all charges, your honour,” Greg told the judge, realising I’d not listened to the question, too busy reeling in the grief that I was feeling.

“LIAR!” Diane yelled at me standing up aggressively, “you are a LIAR! I trusted you!” she screamed, the D.A held her back. The judge quickly tried to shut her down, hammering his gavel.

“I’m not lying,” I said quietly, I wasn’t sure if she could hear. I was shocked that she had lost her composure.

“I recommend that you control your client, Sheldon,” the judge told the prosecutor sternly, “lest she be held in contempt of court.”

Greg told me to sit and be quiet and not to speak another word.

I felt my eyes filling with tears as I sank in to the uncomfortable chair. I blinked them back bravely.

“Your honour, we have reason to believe that Jackson is a flight risk and would like to request that bail be refused.”

I looked to Greg in horror, I had no idea that going to jail would even be a possibility. “No!” I hissed at him. He held his hand up at me to calm me, but it angered me that I had been blind-sighted.

Greg stood up, “Your honor, because the charges were laid a little later than tradition, I would like to point out that if my client was a flight risk he would be well and truly gone by now. He has been incredibly cooperative with regards to this ongoing investigation. He has ties to the community, with family and with friends and has no plans on severing them.”

“Very well, bail is set at 4 million dollars,” said the judge.

I realised I’d been holding my breath. I finally let go of it and allowed myself to breathe. My heart beat so fast that I was afraid of passing out. I knew I was having an anxiety attack.

“Its okay, its okay, its okay…” Malania whispered to me over and over, realising that I was losing it, but partially I felt as though she was comforting herself.

She stroked my hand.

“Thank you, your honor.” Greg nodded. The D.A tried to argue but the judge shut him down.

“Mr Sheldon, I think the point was made that Mr. Jackson has been more than compliant and Mr. Pattoway has made a very good point, he will be trading in his passport and paying his bail. I think we can all feel safe.”

That was the end of it. A new court date was set, it wasn’t for another month and a half. I couldn’t wait to just get back in to that car.

We all walked out. I could hear Diane crying in to the shoulder of an older woman who glared at me with eyes like daggers as I walked down the aisle. I didn’t even look at her, but I could feel her.

“Stop crying, you’re making a scene and embarrassing yourself,” the lady told her firmly and instantly I knew it was her mother. I felt for Diane having to go back to that, but she had made her own bed.

I barely waved to the fans. I had no energy and where their chants had uplifted me earlier, it did nothing for me in that moment. I looked to Malania who had covered her eyes with a pair of sunglasses. I was glad for the two women on either side of me, holding on to my hands. They were both special and necessary in my life.

My Mom wanted to come to my place to talk, I wasn’t really up for it but I didn’t know how to say no. My Dad had to leave for Vegas; he was always in Vegas. They bickered about it for a moment until Mom asked if she could ride with us.

“Michael wants to be alone…” Joseph told her, “he got his girlfriend with him, he don’t need you breathing all down his neck.”

I hated that my father was right. I wanted to be alone with Malania. I didn’t want my Mom to see me cry.

“Malania is going home when we get back to Neverland,” I fibbed. She looked at me surprised but she didn’t say anything, “but if its okay, Joseph is right, I do want to be alone. I need some time…”

Mom looked disappointed but I couldn’t help it. “Michael,” she began, “I’m your mother, please don’t shut me out.”

“I’m not,” I promised, “I just need time to think, I promise I’ll call you tomorrow morning.”

She grimaced but agreed. She and my Dad said goodbye to Malania and got in to their cars. Greg came by us to make sure we were okay.

“Michael, all that happened there was completely normal, they were never going to refuse your bail when you’ve been so cooperative.”

I just nodded even though I wasn’t sure if I believed him. “Thanks Greg, I’ll see you soon then?”

“Yep, Sharon and I are working around the clock for you. We’ll call you tomorrow. Go home and rest.” He turned to Malania, “make sure he rests.”

“I will,” she said in a soft voice.

We got in to the car and Greg waved us off. I felt relief. I immediately began loosening the tie from around my neck that felt like it was beginning to suffocate me.

The driver beeped his way through the crowd of people that were possibly more rabid than they had been when we arrived.

“I don’t want to ask the glaring obvious; are you alright?” Malania finally asked me.

“I want to be home.” I glanced at the driver who I wasn’t very familiar with. Carsen was ahead of us in another car leading the convoy.

“You didn’t answer my question,” she pressed.

“No…” I shook my head, “I’m not okay,” as I said it, my voice broke and I almost burst in to tears, but I held it together for the trip home. Malania understood. She didn’t say a word; instead she waited until we got back to Neverland.

“So, do you want me to tell my Dad to come get me? Or…?”

“What?” I was confused but suddenly remembered what I’d said to my Mom. “Oh,” I shook my head as I opened the front door and gestured for her to go inside first, “no, I just wasn’t in the mood for placating my Mom,” I admitted, “I just want to get in, get changed out of this stupid monkey suit and in to my pajamas and relax.”

Finally she smiled as I dropped keys on the table. “Not you though,” I managed to joke, “you should stay in that dress, you look really cute.”

I saw her blush. “Thanks, I think…”

“Of course… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, I’ve had a lot on my mind today…”

She just nodded. We both got changed despite my joke. I kinda got that she didn’t care much for dressing up all crazy, she liked comfort which was fine because I did too, however it had been nice to see her all dressed up.

I’d wished it had been under different circumstances.

We met back in the living room and took a couch each and outstretched our bodies over them. We usually turned the TV on when we were hanging out, but neither of us made the move to do so.

“You know, to answer your question from this morning, yes, sometimes I do think about hurting those jerks…” I told her.

She seemed to like what she was hearing. “Yeah? What about that knuckle-head that hosts News File on NBC, he sounds like he just stepped out of a 1950s white supremacist movie…”

“Oh,” I scoffed, knowing exactly who she was talking about, “Jeffrey Macabee. Yeah, what a wang face.”

Malania laughed, “I saw him as we walked in to court, I wanted to punch him in the spine. I hate his face.”

I giggled, imaging that she had just the right amount of spunk in her personality to take matters in her own hands like that if she had been angered enough.

As if reading my thoughts, she continued, “Wanna know a secret that will probably make me sound like a psycho?”

She had my attention, “go on,” I prompted her.

“Once, about a year ago, another fan called Bronwyn, we were at a tour press conference and Macabee was there doing a live report – and he called you weird or something dumb, so when he walked by, I stuck my foot out, and he tripped over it in the middle of the live feed… Bronwyn was about three steps ahead so when he got his footing back, she did the same and he face-planted. We acted sincerely sorry and he had no idea it was on purpose, but it was all live… Bronwyn says she has a tape of it.”

I managed to laugh feeling a certain level of amusement and affection for her loyalty. “You guys were always so sweet, defending me even when it meant you could get in to trouble, that’s love.”

“You’re worth it,” she told me. I wasn’t totally convinced.

“You know,” I began thoughtfully, it had been playing on my mind and I wasn’t sure I could keep it to myself anymore, “hearing those charges was a giant reality check…”

I saw her rise up from her long mahogany sofa to see my face. She propped herself up on her elbow. “It was awful and unfair.”

“Its frightening how easy this can happen to a person. Basically, the accusation alone is apparently enough to make an arrest on someone, its crazy. I am not guilty, Malania, and do you know how much it kills me on the inside to have someone openly accuse me of not just hurting a child, but a child so young that they don’t even have a concept of what could be happening?”

I shook my head, “I just can’t seem get my head around how Diane could truly believe that of me.”

“I’m sorry, Michael…”

“Remember that night when we went to Pismo?” I reminded her, “and I told you that I had a secret as well?”

She thought for a few moments and nodded too. “Well, I’ve been debating whether or not to tell Greg and I want to tell you this,” I wasn’t sure why, maybe because I wanted her to know about my past, I didn’t want anything to pop up later and make her feel as though I’d kept important things from her.

“Diane and I…” I began, it was hard to say the words out loud. We never really talked about it after it happened, much less told anyone else, “we um… we had a child together.”

What!?” Malania’s mouth fell open. “Michael, oh my goodness,” then I could see her mind working, trying to figure it all out and piece it together, “who has the child, how come you’ve never told anyone?”

“Unfortunately Diane miscarried quite late in the pregnancy, it was a really awful time for us…” my voice trailed off. Even in that, I was too busy consoling Diane over the loss of our child that I never got the chance to grieve for myself.

“Oh god, that is so awful, Michael I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know why I’m even telling you, sorry if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Don’t be silly, it doesn’t, I just … I guess I know how much children mean to you… it must have been so heartbreaking for you.”

It was. It was heartbreaking enough when I realised Diane wasn’t thrilled about the idea of being a Mom again, but when she miscarried, it was even more devastating – which of course she never picked up on. I was just stoic, Michael, there for the comfort.

“You know,” I began, sitting up, “I’m fucking angry, Lanz.” I felt something snap, “I gave her everything,” I told her, “I put everything out there for her. I was so patient, so caring, I am very aware that I have an issue feeling empathy for too many people, but while other people tell me I’m being walked over, I feel like I’d rather that than turn someone who genuinely needs my help away, that’s not what God would want…”

She watched me, sitting up too, a little startled by my sudden rage. “And that kid,” I told her, “Casey… I would have died for that little girl, I am telling you… I fucking loved her. And for whatever reason, I loved Diane. I wanted to marry her, I wanted to have children with her and she kept putting me off, she never returned those feelings, she just took and took and took and then she was actually angry about carrying my child.”

I was so mad.

Angry!” I shouted, getting up, pacing. “Holy shit…” I shook my head, “And then when we lost the baby, she was sad because she’d figured out, obviously, that we could use the baby for spare bits for her cancer ridden child… then three months later, the last time we fucking speak, she asks me to give her another baby, for spare parts….and I all but refused.”

I ran my hands through my hair, knowing I was just about to burst in to fits of angry tears. I could feel it, but I was so livid, “and then, as her last and final fuck you, she fucking accused me of raping her child. The only thing more important to me than Diane herself… Its not fair, I was a better father to that child than she could have ever dreamed me to be and this is how I get repaid…”

I fell back in to my sofa, “its just not fucking fair. I lost two children and managed to narrowly avoid jail… and then the realisation that this idiot did not care about me, not one little bit.”

Malania got up and sat beside me. “You have me, and you won’t lose me,” she murmured, “not for a single thing in the world…”

She put an arm around me and rested her head on my shoulder. Her softness and compassion was just what I needed to dissolve my anger to tears. I covered my face feeling a mixture of embarrassment and frustration.

“I don’t want to cry…” I admitted, trying to be brave.

“Its okay, Michael, you’re allowed to cry. You’ve had a fucked up day. A fucked up month and some, actually,” she corrected herself. There was something that made me happy about the fact that she was comfortable enough to swear in front of me, not pretending to be some kind of sweet angel.

Fortunately, that was all she needed to say before I began to sob. I wrapped my arms around her and held on to her for dear life, and sobbed my heart out while I let her hold me tight, stroke my hair and tell me that it was going to be alright.

And even if it wasn’t going to be alright, she made me feel like it was.

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