<Authors Note: I should warn you all that I've been more or less sitting on this story for the better part of the past two years. I bought a new computer around the time Holly got this chapter back to me after she proofed it, and I finally found it on my email to be able to make her suggested changes to the text. Please bare that in mind when you read this.
Much love,
Toni.>

I picked up my cell phone and saw that it was Jen on the line. After reading the article from Holly, I was a mix of excited and nervous. Hopefully Jen would be able to help me calm down a bit.

“Hey, Jen.” I said as I answered the phone.

“Toni!” She said with a note of excitement in her voice. “Did you get the package from Holly?”

“Yes, and I like everything but the cover shot.” I told her.

“What’s wrong with the cover?”

“I thought they weren’t going to use the bikini shots,” I told Jen with a giggle.

“Guilty.” she answered. “That was my idea.”

“It’s a good thing we’re friends, or I’d be seriously pissed right now,” I told her, again with a giggle.

“Ok, enough about that.” she quickly got serious and changed the subject. “We’ve got a slight problem.”

“What’s the sitch now?” I asked, rolling my eyes as I listened.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me young lady.” she said as if she could see me on a camera phone. “The writers are on strike, and the unions won’t let us start filming until we can reach an agreement.”

“Wow,” was all I could answer. Here I was excited about getting the chance to be in a movie, and my career was ended before it even began, because of a strike. Then it hit me.

“Hey Jen, does the studio have the cars ready for the movie?” I asked her as I was looking at my calendar and saw that the open practice for Daytona was fast approaching.

“Yes, we have all brand new cars from Hess*, with cameras in them like the normal TV crews use.” she told me. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, if they’re normal TV style cameras, all we’d need is a computer with the receiver, and then just run the car right?”

“Yeah, that’s about it.” she told me with a hint of skepticism.

“Ok, here’s what we do ....” I told her as I laid out my plan to have her actually get her NASCAR license, and race in the Daytona 500.

Since we both have our class A licenses, we could take turns driving the hauler for the cross country trek, and the studio already had all the proper equipment to field the car. All we’d need to do is find a crew once we got to the track, and that shouldn’t be that hard, since IF we made the race, we could hire one of the backup crews from another team, or a crew from one of the other divisions that would be there to pit the car for us.

“Ok. I’m in,” she told me. “I’ll pick you up in the hauler tomorrow. We have to hurry to make the open practice and get me my license.”

That was it. I was going back to racing. Hopefully what I’d seen of Jen’s driving, and what I knew about the car’s setup would be enough to get us into the race. Only time would tell if we could pull this off.

The trip to Florida was like I’d remembered it being from my days working in the cup series. Long miles on the road, and eating at any little highway joint you could find with more than 2 trucks parked by it. That was usually a sign that the food wasn’t too bad. All in all we made the trip in just over a day, and got our space in the garage area set up.

I started to go over the car to get it ready for inspection while Jen talked to the competition directors about getting her license. As it turned out, my job was the easy part. Hess* makes a great car, and well within the rules of the NASCAR book, and the people who hung the body hadn’t fiddled with it, We were one of only a couple cars that made it through the template station on the first shot.

Lucky for me, a few of the girls from the hockey team agreed to help out by pushing the car around the pits, or that would have been an issue. One woman pushing a 3600 pound stock car is not a fun time, if you follow me.

As soon as we’d finished fueling the car after the inspection process, Jen came back with a couple of officials in tow and laid out the stipulations NASCAR had mandated to me. “I have to prove to them I can drive, so they want me to go out on the track with the IROC* group and if I can handle that pack of cars they’ll let me into a session with our car.”

“I kind of had a feeling it’d be something like that.” I told her with laugh of frustration.

I had my radio set to scan our frequency and the track frequency during her test with the IROC* cars. All I could do was pace back and forth on the roof of our hauler while I watched her turn laps, and heard the officials tell her to move up to the lead of the pack she was in. I guess she impressed them enough in that session, because as soon as I’d climbed down from the hauler after the session, the officials were telling me she could go out with the Cup drivers. However they did caution me that if anything happened, we’d both be made to leave.

Jen went out with a pretty good group, consisting of a handful of past race winners, and past champions. So if she just held her line, and didn’t do anything to piss them off, we’d be okay. She handled the car like a seasoned veteran, holding her car in the draft at almost 200MPH all the way around the 2.5 mile track. If you’ve ever been behind a tractor trailer on the highway, that’s about what it feels like to be in the draft at a place like Daytona. The wind wants to push the car all over the place, so to keep it steady, and not hit anyone, it takes skill and nerves of titanium. Jen luckily had both.

As soon as the day was over, we were both called to the NASCAR office trailer and told that Jen would be allowed to try and qualify for the 500. However they did caution us that if anything happened we’d both be banned for life from NASCAR. If the pressure wasn’t on before, to simply get the footage in the can for the movie, it was now with that mandate from NASCAR.

As speed weeks got ready to open up, Officer Murphy made his daily rounds. I tripped while we were coming out of the hotel room and fell onto Jen. A chill went down my spine as I heard the “snap” when I landed with all my weight on her left ankle. A quick trip to Daytona General Hospital confirmed that my klutziness had given Jen a hairline fracture. I was in tears as I heard the doctors tell us the news.

“Buck up.” Jen told me as she stood up on her crutches

“How can you be so calm?” I asked her through the tears. “I just screwed everything up.”

“It’s not that bad. I’ve driven with worse.”

“That may be, but the officials will never let you drive with you on crutches.” I told her as I helped her balance on her new sticks.

“I think I might have that issue solved.” she told me as she grabbed her cell phone and placed a call.

She wouldn’t tell me who she would get to fill the seat, but I trust Jen completely. Granted, I usually want to drag anyone who gives me a surprise out into the street and have them drawn and quartered with four top fuel dragsters, but since it’s Jen, I’ll let this one slide.

As the garage area opened I learned we were one of 56 cars trying for the 43 starting spots in the field. THERE’S some good news. It would mean that with only 35 cars locked into the field, we’d be gunning it out with 21 other teams to try and get into the Great American Race’s remaining 8 spots.

Add to it that my driver had a broken ankle, and I felt like a long tailed cat in a room full of rottweiler’s that were all sitting in rocking chairs. As we made our way to the garage area a fiery red head walked up and hugged with Jen while I was going through the paces with the NASCAR inspectors.

“Toni, I’d like you to meet my good friend Jan Timson.” Jen told me as the young woman came over to shake my hand.

“Timson....” I repeated as I tried to figure out where I knew that name from. Then it dawned on me. Janet Timson had just won the World of Outlaws Sprintcar title, and had been given a ride last year at Talladega in the ARCA race with RCR before they cut their developmental driver program.

“Jen’s told me a lot about you, Toni.” she told me as I stood there wondering what Jen had up her sleeve.

“So what brings you to Daytona, Jan?” I asked her blankly. “Did Richard get his head out of his ass and finally give you the ride you deserve?”

“Not exactly.” she told me with a wink to Jen. “I got hired to do some stunt driving work on some Hollywood movie.”

“Something you want to tell me Jen?” I asked with a cocked eyebrow.

“You mean other than Jan agreed to drive the car in the race for us?” Jen told me with a giggle. “No, I can’t think of anything.”

“And the NAZI regime is cool with this?” I asked, making reference to how NASCAR controls stock car racing much the same way Hitler and his minions controlled Europe in the early 1940's, only NASCAR used less guns.

“I got my super speedway clearance last fall at Talladega,” Jan told me as she looked into the driver’s side window at the cockpit of the car.

“Welcome aboard, then.” I said with a shrug, and knowing there weren’t any other options.

We didn’t really worry too much about the qualifying setup, since we knew we’d have a better shot at making the field in one of the 150 mile qualifying races. So while other teams blasted off some ballistic times during practice before qualifying, we simply worked on getting the car to handle well in the pack so Jan could simply drive the car and race her way into the field. And the qualifying times showed. We were ranked 40th after pole day, which meant we’d be in the 2nd of the two 150 lap qualifying races. All we really changed going into that race was to pull some tape off the radiator inlet to let the car run cooler in a big group of cars.

Leading up to the qualifying race I was a bundle of nerves, and Jen and Jan picked up on it on Tuesday night, before we turned in for bed.

“If you don’t calm down, I’m going to make you drive the car and I’ll sit on the pit box.” Jan told me over a fruit smoothie at the hotel.

“I can’t help it.” I told her. “I always get like this leading up to a big race. And this one is even bigger now, since it’ll be ME calling the shots on the setup of the car.”

“The car is fine,” she assured me. “It’s you I’m worried about.” she told me, placed one of her hands on mine on the table.

“Jan, your life is in my hands.” I told her as I started to cry.

I turned to Jen. “You’re both the only people I can talk to about what’s been going on in my life, and you can actually understand what I’m going through. I know Sarah and my dad will always be there for me, but you’ve actually gone through some of what I’ve been going through. I know we just met Jan, but it’s like we’ve known each other forever. And that’s special to me. I’d never forgive myself if something happened.”

“Look, you’re a great mechanic.” she told me with a sisterly smile. “If I didn’t feel comfortable with what you’ve been doing to the car, I’d have said something. But the car is fine. And you need to get some sleep, and since we don’t have practice tomorrow, lets take the day and just relax.”

“I’ll relax when this is all over.” I told her. “Once you’re back safe and sound after the race, I’ll relax then.”

They wouldn’t let me near the track on Wednesday, but I couldn’t help but thinking over and over in my mind that I’d missed something. Once we got to the track on Thursday morning I went over ever nut and bolt in the car, making sure they were all tight, and then re-bled the brakes, and double checked the valves in the engine. For her part, Jen found us a crew to pit the car for the race. One of the truck teams agreed to change our tires and fuel the car in the race, so that was one less worry I had.

Once we rolled to the grid for our qualifying race my nervousness came back. The first qualifying race hadn’t had “the big one”. That’s a large wreck that takes out a larger group of cars, and there’s always one of those in the twin 150's, so I was just waiting for it to happen in our race.

We buckled Jan in and Jen went up to the tower to be Jan’s spotter for the race. I took my spot on top of the pit box and said my final words of luck to Jan.

“Remember, stay safe, and just turn laps. You don’t have to win this thing to get us in the field. But you do have to be there at the end. So take it easy, and have fun out there.” I told her over the radio.

As the field rolled off to start their formation lap for the race, it occurred to me that the studio had spared no expense with the equipment for this movie. This pit box was nicer than any of the ones I’d had the privilege to work around when I was working in the cup back in the day, and the rest of the equipment was the best money could buy. I watched the race telemetry from NASCAR as the race started, and watched as Jan started to move up through the field, picking off car after car from her outside row 10 starting spot.

By the time the first round of green flag stops came up, she was running 5th and was in the lead pack of six cars. For a crew that is from what’s considered a lower level of the NASCAR family of series, our guys got our four tires on and packed the car full of fuel on pace with the rest of the group we pitted with. This allowed us all to exit the pits together and stay in our little pack, since the fastest way around a track like this is with a group of more than three cars, to help with the draft.

Once the green flag stops finally panned out, we were 3rd and our pack of six cars had a full turn lead on the rest of the field. All we had to do was hold this spot and we’d be in the field for the race. I started to breath a sigh of relief but it was too soon. The big one came, coming out of turn four just as our pack was coming up to lap a handful of stragglers that just couldn’t get up to speed.

My heart sank as all I could do was watch on the television feed as our pack of cars scattered and went into the giant cloud of smoke that marked the wreck we were coming up on. For a couple tense moments I held my breath as I started to see cars emerge from the smoke. To my shock. Jan was the first and only one to come out, and the car didn’t look like it’d been hit. That’s when I heard it over the radio.

“They got Jimmy, and Bobby. I don’t know how I missed it, but we made it through that,” she said.

Jimmy and Bobby were the two cars Jan had been following before the wreck. So that handed us the lead in the race. I knew that we could make it the rest of the way from here on fuel if we pitted, but the question was, do we take two tires and go for track position, or take four, and try and make moves in traffic. It all fell on me, as Jan came down pit road, and just before the crew went over the wall to start their service on the car, I called out two on the radio and made up my mind we’d gamble on track position for the remaining 15 laps of the race.

The pits were a fever of activity as everyone came to top off their fuel and get fresh tires. We came in first, and the guys did a great job keeping us there. My heart sank as I watched the rest of the top running cars take four tires, meaning they’d all have fresher rubber for the remaining laps. I kept telling myself we didn’t need to win this race, just have a good finish near the front to be in the race.

But apparently Jan had other ideas. As the pace car pulled off and turned the field over for Jan to bring them down for the restart with only 10 laps to go, she brought them down very slowly. Almost at a crawl before she took off like her butt was on fire and her head was catching. She had two cars in tow as they took off, but the 4th place driver spun his tires and that allowed the three cars ahead of him to pull away, with Jan leading the way. We had the defending race champion and a two time winner of the 500 behind us, and I asked Jen to talk to their spotters, to ask them to just let us know when and if they wanted the lead and I’d tell Jan to let them by. To my pleasant shock they both agreed to run blocker for us, to make sure we’d be in the race.

I could only sit there on the pit box and just watch the laps click off with our three car group pulling away from the rest of the field which was running two wide behind us. When the final lap came I was holding my breath the entire time, just waiting for something to happen. I know what was said by spotters, but I also know how race drivers can get sometime. Drivers want to win. And if that means moving the car in front of you out of the way to do it, then all’s fair. But the bump never came. They did, however split her going through the tri-oval, crossing the line side by side, three wide. I had to wait for the replay on television to see who’d won. And then I saw some good news.

We’d done it. Jan finished third the second 150 mile qualifying race, and we were in the Daytona 500. Not only that, but we’d be starting outside of row number three for the race, since one of the cars that had beaten us was already on the front row. This left the other one on the outside of row number two. We’d be up front where you’re less likely to have bad things happen to you.

The crew had to drag me off the pit box and usher me to the inspection line, since I was in shock that we’d actually just almost won a race. In our first try, with a “Hollywood” prepared car, nonetheless with a driver that had a limited stock car, and for that matter, big track experience.

I made my way to the car parked in line at the inspection station and the media was already swarming like a pack of wild dogs. All I could hear was the lot of them shouting for “Ms. Mangano”, being as Jen had signed into the event as Amanda Mangano, her character’s name in the movie. She told me this would make it easier to use the actual race footage and announcers to add a note of realism to the whole thing. And being as the same network that aired “Around Midnight”,(read “Zapped” by Bob Arnold for more info on that.) was covering the race, it wouldn’t be too hard for Jen to get the raw race footage to use in the movie.

Jan hugged me tight as I reached the car, and we ushered her off in the golf cart to get her out of the spot light before anything hinky happened. Jen showed up a little bit later with a camera crew and one of the pit reporters in tow, apparently to do the interview for the television coverage. Jan handled it like a seasoned pro, answering their questions and never giving anyone a hint that she wasn’t Amanda Mangano.

Then Jen came out, dressed in her fire suit and did an interview with the camera crew as well, and in character as if SHE were Amanda Mangano. After Jen was done with her part, Jen and Jan broke the news to the camera crew that Jan was really Janet Timson, and we were there to get footage for an upcoming movie.

Just as they started to do that, the rest of the media vultures found them and started to pepper Jan with questions about who she was and where she’d driven before, since the vast majority of the world wouldn’t know a good driver if they hit one in the parking lot.

Jan is by far one of the best drivers I’ve ever seen pilot a sprint car. I was there when she won the Knoxville Nationals, and watched her win the “Kings Royal”, and Eldora Nationals on SPEED TV, those being three of the bigger wins in the fifty win season she had last year on the World of Outlaws Sprint Car Tour. To think that she could win fifty races out of 130, and the three biggest on the schedule, is a real accomplishment. It’s no wonder that she had the title wrapped up as “Queen of the Outlaws”, (normally the season champ is crowned “king of the outlaws” when a man wins it), by the time they got into September, and still had 20 races left in the season.

I sneaked off to help the crew finish the post race inspection and then button the car up for the night, before heading back to the hauler, where every print, and radio person on the grounds were standing, trying to get some face time with Jan. I made my way through the side door of the trailer and found Jen in the lounge changing out of her driver’s suit and back into her street clothes.

“You know, I’m almost glad it WASN’T you driving the car today,” I told her as she tied her tennis shoes.

“Why’s that, Toni?”

“Well, think about it.” I told her with a giggle. “Jan hasn’t made movies before, or recorded a Grammy winning album, or hosted a successful late night talk show on network television ...”

“Ok, I get it.” Jen told me as she cut me off before I could puff her ego any more with my list of accomplishments she’s achieved. “I’m just a normal woman. I put my pants on the same way everyone else does, Toni.”

“No, you’re freaking super woman. It’s just too bad my ass is kryptonite, or else you wouldn’t have that broken ankle.” I told her as I helped her to her feet.

“What broken ankle?” she asked me with a grin.

“Quit playing.” I told her with a “WTF” look.

“That whole thing in the doctor’s office the other day was a ruse.” she told me. “The studio had kittens when they found out I was going to drive. So I tripped you coming out of the hotel room and made it look real, so if anyone asked, we’d have a good cover story for bringing in a pro to drive the car.”

I stood there stunned. She’d lied to me. Here I was thinking I’d just broken my best friend’s ankle and she’s not really injured.

“But I heard the crack when I landed on you.” I told her as I started to cry.

“That was my cell phone clip breaking as it came off my belt.” she said, starting to giggle.

“You bitch!” I started to cry my eyes out. “You let me think I hurt you. Why Jen? Why would you do that?”

“I knew you’d be more receptive to Jan driving the car if you knew in your mind that I couldn’t. I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I just knew you wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else if I could drive the car.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I probably wouldn’t have agreed to be crew chief for Jan if you COULD have driven the car.” I told her as I hugged her tight, and wiped the tears from my eyes. “But it’s too late now to change it, anyway. So I take it you aren’t going to use your crutches anymore?”

“Nope, don’t need them,” she said as she did a little jig. “Come on, let’s go rescue the new media darling of the racing world.”

We made our way out of the lounge to find Jan sitting on one of the bench seats near the main door to the hauler, sipping a water.

“I take it you finally told her your broken ankle was a fake?” Jan asked as we made our way through the trailer.

“Yes she did. And I’m not happy about HOW she went about getting out of driving the car.” I told Jan with a fake snarl. “You both could have at least clued me in on this little farce.

“Deniability, my dear Toni, deniability,” Jan said. “If anyone had asked, no one would have picked up on you knowing anything other than what Jen had told the officials. Now that I’m the driver of record of the car, there’s nothing they can do to force her to drive.”

“I should have stayed in bed,” I told them both as I sit down with my head in my hands. “Some days it’s just not worth chewing through the leather straps.”

Jen Stevens & Jan Timsonappears courteously of Bob Arnold. All rights reserved. ©

Hess Race Cars: One of NASCAR's approved manifacturers of racing componants, located in Moorseville, NC

IROC: International Race of Champions, better known as IROC, was an auto racing competition, promoted as an equivalent of an All-Star Game or The Masters. Drivers raced identically-prepared stock cars set up by a single team of mechanics in an effort to make the race purely a test of driver ability. It was run with a small field of invited drivers (6-12). The drivers invited were from a broad range of racing disciplines: NASCAR, Indy cars, sports car racing, and on rare occasions, WoO, and drag racing. Criteria for invitation was very loose, but typically consisted of recent season champions of the respective series, and individual winners of big events (Indy, Daytona, etc.)((taken from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/International_Race_of_Champions ))