The Punishment (Michael Jackson)

“Luggage to flight 362 to Barrow can be picked up at line three. Luggage at line three.”

The monotonous voice on the speaker illustrated the last couple of hours perfectly. Boring to the verge of insanity in a cramped plane filled with annoying kids, sweaty drunken men, and grumpy old ladies. I had tucked my oversized winter cap down to my nose and raised the collars of my jacket to be somewhat invincible in the crowd. The volume was maxed on my Walkman, and I just wanted to disappear. No actually, I would rather jump off the fucking plane and get back home if I could. I hated Joseph for forcing me to travel to the middle of nowhere to get some sense knocked into my head. Whatever. He was a dickhead. Always had been. But what hurt the most, was that mother agreed with him. She always used to be on my side and now she shushed me off like nothing all of a sudden. I was angry. No. I was downright pissed!

“Michael? Is that you?” I heard a woman’s voice behind me, but I was pretty sure she already knew. Then why bother to ask? Besides, since when were we by forename? I didn’t know her, and I didn’t know the jackasses surrounding her, either. Didn’t want to. Period.

“Yeah,” I muttered while picking up one of my two bags.

She reached out her hand to greet me, and I rolled my eyes at her and shook her hand. Her grip felt firmer than I’d expected to, but hey: She both looked like and behaved like a full-blooded hillbilly. This is gonna be great. Juuuust great...

They were a family of five, and I soon learned that Mrs. & Mr. Hillbilly were named Mary-Lou and Paul. Their kids looked just as dumb as their parents. The oldest, a boy named Patrick, looked to be around my age or a little older. He had dark blonde hair and grey eyes that watched me cautiously. His sister, Leah, was fiddling with a lock of her hair while she chewed on her bottom lip. She looked like an annoying teenage brat. And her little brother Jack gave pretty much the same impression, only a younger version.

Paul helped me with my bags, and we exited the airport like a fucking heard of sheep. God, how I hoped these four weeks would go fast! It didn’t help that the Alaskan air hit me in the face like a stinging wall. Shoot! I knew it would be cold here, but I didn’t bring clothes to live on the friggin’ North Pole.

I zipped my jacket and got in the car, which was a rather shabby looking eight-seat Suburban. It was far from warm inside and definitely not as comfortable as the limos at home, although I guess it was good enough. What annoyed me though, was that Mary-Lou kept the small talk going despite my several obvious attempts to put on my headset. Nevertheless, I answered as shortly as I could without being impolite, until eventually they took the hint and left me alone.

It was getting darker, and even though I hated to admit it, the scenery was astonishing! The light and colors in the blue hour were beyond amazing, and there was something about the untouched nature that took my breath away. A thin layer of snow covered everything and made it look clean and new, and I realized that it would be an excellent place to do photo covers for out next album.

That thought made me even more irritated than I already was. The next album has to be the last one. I had too much going on in my solo career to waste any more time with The Jacksons. Quincy said I should have done it long time ago, and it was thanks to him that my first solo album became a reality. It didn’t keep Joseph from trying to keep me under strict control though, which was why I was here right now. I was twenty-fucking-four years old, and that asshole still pushed me around like a ragdoll!

I didn’t even know these people. And Alaska...? Seriously?

"Paul’s a good friend of mine, and they’ll take care of you.”

Kiss my ass! I could take care of myself now. I didn’t need any more interference from him. And I sure didn’t want anything to do with the next tour he was constantly nagging about. Also, I had the feeling that ‘Victory tour’ was the wrong name for it. Why, I didn’t know.

After what felt like an eternity, the car pulled over to a small road. By now, it was completely dark outside, and the forest around us made it impossible to see anything else but the road straight ahead. What looked like a small cottage appeared in the distance and I groaned when the car drove around it and parked in a garage at the back. This was the place I’d be staying the next month?

“Welcome to our home, Michael. It’s not big and it sure doesn’t have the luxury you’re used to, but I think you’ll manage quite fine.”

Paul had an unreadable expression on his face, and I wasn’t sure if he actually meant it, or if he was mocking me because I was used to a better living.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Hey! At least you can turn down that Walkman of yours when we’re talking to you,” he said sternly, and I turned away so he wouldn’t see me rolling my eyes. Then I did as he said, and my mood did not get any better when Patrick showed me to a room. His room. Which we were gonna share. Great...