Chapter 2: The Rhythm Begins
November 1981
Michael was now 14 months old, and life in the Knowles household was filled with warmth, music, and the subtle chaos of raising a curious toddler. By this time, he had learned to crawl, walk with confidence, and babble a mixture of baby talk and words that startled his parents with their clarity. Mathew and Tina would often exchange amused looks, marveling at their son's seemingly advanced development.
Though Michael's body was still that of a child, his adult mind remained sharp. He had grown accustomed to the limitations of infancy and used his time to observe, absorb, and prepare for the future. His parents were hardworking and loving, traits that set the tone for their household. Mathew was ambitious, always thinking a step ahead, while Tina exuded creativity and compassion, her voice often filling the house with impromptu songs.
One crisp November morning, as sunlight streamed through the windows of their modest Houston home, Michael sat on the floor surrounded by toys. But instead of playing with them, he tapped his hands rhythmically on the wooden blocks, creating a beat that caught Tina's attention.
"Listen to that," she said, nudging Mathew, who was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee. "Our boy's got rhythm."
Mathew leaned over to watch Michael. "You're right. He's got a natural sense for it."
Michael grinned up at his parents, tapping faster, then slower, experimenting with tempo like an innate musician. In his mind, he was laying the foundation for the talent he knew would define his future.
By the time Tina was pregnant again in early 1982, Michael had become a fixture in the family's routines. He was unusually drawn to music, often crawling toward the stereo whenever it played. Tina and Mathew decided to nurture his interest, introducing him to instruments as toys—a tiny drum set, a toy piano. Michael eagerly explored each one, delighting in their sounds and rhythms.
"Do you think he's too young for this?" Mathew asked one evening as Michael banged out a surprisingly steady rhythm on his toy drum.
"No," Tina said with a laugh. "If he's showing interest now, we should encourage him. Who knows? He might be the first musician in the family."
Michael smiled inwardly. You have no idea.
In September 1982, Beyoncé was born, and Michael's world changed yet again. He was now a big brother, a role he took to heart immediately. Though he was just two years old, his maturity shone through as he watched over his baby sister with an attentiveness that surprised even his parents.
"Michael, meet your sister," Tina said softly, holding the tiny bundle close to him.
Michael peered at the baby, his young face lighting up with fascination. This is her, he thought. The queen who will change the world.
He reached out and gently touched her tiny hand, feeling a sense of connection that transcended their young ages. In that moment, he made a silent vow to himself: to guide her, protect her, and, when the time came, help her shine.
As the months passed, Michael's talents only grew. At barely two and a half, he could hum along to tunes, mimic dance moves he saw on TV, and even string together small sentences to express his love for music. His parents often joked that he seemed older than his years, a little man in a toddler's body.
And Michael? He was preparing. Preparing for the moment when he and Beyoncé would take the world by storm. This was just the beginning.