DANNY Chapter 50 by Roberta J. Cabot This is a story about Daniel, a guy with a unique talent and an even more unique problem: A great singing voice and the looks of his gorgeous sister. And how he and his family deal with his having breasts. And how he ends up as the female lead singer for a high-school cover band as well as a radio DJ. Tracey comes up with a new gimmick to keep growing the station, which necessitated making up advertising posters. Naturally, the gang gets recruited as Tracey's models. But on the final day of the poster shoots, Janet showed up again and hit Tracey and Jerry with her car this time. Never a dull moment with Batch Fourteen, and Dan & his gang.

  Chapter Fifty: Racecar Driver or Pinup Girl

***** (Danny) *****

It was a crazy day. It started out fun and exciting, with our photoshoots and everything, but it went real bad at the end.

Because someone attacked us.

As I held Nikki's hand, I gave everyone a blow-by-blow.

After the attack, and I got over the shock of it, I started to shake. Not from the shock but from anger. After I made sure that my sweetie was fine, I jumped into my car and roared after our attacker.

I told them that I was only able to find the guy because his radiator seemed to have cracked. Steam was billowing out of his engine and it was easy to pick him out among the cars in the street. Something was clearly wrong and I was overhauling him fast. I pulled parallel to his driver's side, with the idea of pushing him off the road. And as I got parallel to his door, he looked at me for a second. And It wasn't a 'he' at all. It was Janet!

I saw Janet's expression, and she was crying. Crying buckets, actually. I didn't understand.

I tried to catch her eye, to get her to look at me. I needed to understand what she was doing, but she wasn't looking at me. I tried to lower the passenger side window but the window mechanism was damaged and I couldn't roll it down.

"Janet!" I yelled, but she either didn't hear me or was ignoring me. I was contemplating hanging out my own window and yell to her that way, but I was too short to be able to keep on stepping on the gas as well as lean out the window. "Janet!" I yelled at the passenger window again.

"Goddammit, Janet!"

As I was keeping my car parallel, and praying there would be no car coming my way, something popped and steam started coming out from underneath my hood. I think something broke when Janet hit my car. At that moment, my car started losing power, and I started falling back.

I suppose, in a way, it was a good thing because a car came out on my side of the street. Before I got hit, I pulled over to the side, and Janet continued on.

My engine died and wouldn't start anymore. I got out of my car and yelled again. "Janet!" I screamed. "Janet, stop!"

A few moments later, my bodyguard, as well as Danielle's bodyguard, came over the rise and pulled over behind me.

"Don't stop!" I called. "Go, go! You can still catch her!"

The two cars sped away and tried to catch Janet. However, one of them came back about fifteen minutes later. They found Janet's car on the side of the road, abandoned. Apparently, something went wrong with her car as well. Not surprising given how much steam was coming out of it.

After telling Mrs. P everything over the phone, she decided to get the police involved now because Janet had become more dangerous, and had actually committed a hit-and-run and hurt Tracey and Jerry this time. She asked Kelly, the bodyguard that was assigned to me, to take care of everything.

Before the cops came, I took off my wig and makeup. After all, Robin was nonexistent as a legal entity and I might get in trouble with the police, so I defaulted to my Danielle identity.

I then told the police everything since she slammed into my car, or rather "Danny's" car, and it took over an hour for them to go through my story. Kelly also arranged to have my car towed to the garage, and the police took care of Janet's car, which turned out to be her dad's, and the same car that she used to hit Mrs. P's minibus with almost a month ago. I had called Mrs. P about that, and we agreed to not mention any of the other things that happened before. We agreed to just tell them what happened today.

The guys were all wondering what was happening to Janet. I had an idea, though, and it gave me chills thinking about it.

We didn't go to Betsy's anymore tonight, and just went home instead. Betsy, Fallon, Danielle, Nikki and I rode with Tracey, and she brought each of us home.

Tracey dropped us last and, before stepping out of Trace's car, I put on one of my Danny shirts and fixed up my hair. Our folks probably have an inkling of what we were doing, but I'm not gonna rub their noses in it.

We gave Tracey hugs, said good night and went into the house. One of the cars outside our house blinked its lights and I knew Kelly was there keeping watch. It was also their signal that they didn't see any unusual people (otherwise known as "fans") hanging outside, which was a relief.

The parental units quickly noticed, of course, that I wasn't driving my car, which was unusual - they notice my missing car but they didn't seem to notice my outfit.

I explained what happened at the photoshoot, and after. I didn't mention It was Janet, though, as that might complicate things for them, but I did mention that the police are on it. Thank god Danielle followed my lead.

After an hour or so of hashing and rehashing the events of the day, none of us came to any new conclusions or decisions and, after dinner, we retired for the night.

Having said good night to Danielle and our folks, I went directly to my room. I put all of my new booty in my hamper - mom had changed my hamper, though, as I now have one basket meant for stuff to be dry-cleaned and a bigger one for the regular stuff - and put my new girl shoes next to my other ones at the bottom my dresser-cabinet.

After a quick shower, and a quick toothbrush, I changed into my favorite t-shirt, a pair of comfortable shorts and socks.

As I sat on my bed, I got out my phone. I sent off a quick good night text to Nikki, as per usual, and then I called up Dr. Roberts.

I fidgeted while I waited for him to answer, but he answered fairly quickly.

"Hey, Dan," Dr. Roberts said. "Everything okay?" He sounded worried.

I laughed - he sounded like my mom. "Everything's fine, doc," I said. "No worries. Hope I didn't wake you."

"What do you mean? It's only eight in the evening."

"Oh, yeah." I forgot about the three-hour time difference. "So, how have you been?" And we visited for a while, updating each other on our latest goings-on. I told him about the station's new website and the photo shoots, promising him copies of the posters if he wants them, and he said that he was wrapping up his tests, and might have some good news for me in several weeks' time. I tried to get more information about that but he said I should wait until he can confirm it.

And then I recounted our "Janet sightings," especially our meeting at the restaurant, the minibus, the encounter in the city, and then the car chase.

"Tell me again about what happened at the department store," he asked, and I gave him a more detailed blow-by-blow, but he said he was more interested in Janet's specific behavior, as in how she was before she was physically in contact with me, and how she was after.

I told him about her attacking me and my friends, her crying, her scary screaming and then running away. It was crazy.

"Hmmm…" he said, "that's very revealing."

"In what way, doc?" I asked.

He told me that she was definitely one of those "one-in-three hundred" people he told me about. He said he was glad the police was involved now since she was at the edge and needed to be stopped, both from hurting others and from hurting herself.

I asked if I should tell the police everything, and he paused.

"Maybe not," he said finally. "I mean, I don't know how it could help them if they knew any more. And imagine the complications for you, your family and your friends. If everything comes out, that is. What does Danielle know?"

"About my pheromones? Nothing. No one knows."

"Good. Don't tell them until I talk to you again, okay?"

Okay… But what can I do, doc? People might get hurt…"

"From what you told me, the police are on it, and that's all that can be done. I suppose what you can do is, because you are her obsession, you should remain visible yet at the same time you should try and keep away from crowds. As soon as you spot her, get her away from other people. And be sure to let the police know as soon you spot her."

"That's not much…"

"I know, son, but that's all you can do. That and to be careful. Listen, can you send me some more samples?"

"Huh? Doc, we've been sending weekly samples already. Haven't you been getting them?"

"Yes, but what I want now are daily samples."

"Huh?"

"So I can see how your blood components are changing from day to day. I would go there and do it myself but I need to be here where my equipment is. So I'm going to send you something by special courier. It should be there by tomorrow. I'll include instructions as well. If we're lucky, I can get enough information and get you fixed up."

"So you think you can fix…"

"I don't want to get your hopes up until I have all the data. Just be alert and be careful."

I sighed. "Okay, doc. It's just that I'm scared…"

"Be strong, Dan. Keep your head clear, be alert, be careful, protect your family and friends, and call me if things change. All right?"

"Thanks, doc. Talk you you later."

- - - - -

***** (Danny) *****

The following day, a big box from Doctor Roberts arrived. Mom didn't touch it, and waited for us to get back from school. As soon as I saw it, I opened it and found a big, white gadget the size of a small microwave oven and a couple of pages of instructions.

"So, what is it, Danny," mom asked.

"It's a kind of blood testing device, mom," I explained. "It seems the samples Danielle and I have been sending haven't been getting to the Doc, so he sent this to us so our blood can be tested here and the information can be sent to him via the Internet."

How does it work, Danny?" Danielle asked.

"Well, let's see."

I read the instructions. First, I plugged it in and turned it on, and set the Internet connection by linking it to the house wifi. I then got one of the little coin-sized cloth filter papers in one of the bins of the device. I pricked my finger with the little pen device inside and wiped some blood onto the paper. I then slid the little wafer into the machine and pressed a button.

"That's it," I said.

"That's it?" Danielle said.

"Apparently."

"I thought it would be more complicated."

- - - - -

***** (Danny) *****

From then on, I sent as many "samples" of my blood as he asked - at least twice a day. Dr. Roberts even said it didn't matter if I didn't follow any set schedule, but that I should send as many as I could so long as it was a couple of hours in between samples.

It wasn't that big a deal, and it just became another part of my routine. Pricking my finger was annoying, though.

Danielle also sent samples, but it was more to keep up appearances since the Doc didn't need any from her anymore.

- - - - -

In the next couple of weeks, the posters came out, and they were great. Each of the clients got seven or eight unique posters each. Sally, the professional model, was over the moon since she made a lot of money from the shoot. For the rest of us amateurs, not as much.

Anyway, all the clients got several gross boxes of posters (A "gross" is equal to 144. Look it up.), and were ready to ship. But Tracey told me some bad news - Mrs. P wanted me to sign some of them for the clients. Now why would that be bad news?

We were in the lounge in KRPQ's building and I was in my Robin disguise. We were both having coffee. Well, Tracey was having a coffee and I was having a Dew and a burger. "I don't think that's such a big problem, Trace," I said. "What's signing a few posters?" Then I saw her face. "What?"

Tracey reached underneath the table we were at and brought out one of four big two-by-three-foot cardboard boxes.

"What's that?" I asked.

"These are the posters."

"Ohmigod! How many do I have to sign?"

"Four sets. Which makes five hundred seventy-six posters…" She looked worried that I might get mad or something.

"Oh…" I took a deep breath. "In that case, Trace, let's get started right away so we can finish early." I reached down, lifting and hefting the four boxes stacked atop each other.

She looked at me wide-eyed. "Ummm, don't you want some help with that?" she said.

"Nah, I got it." I stood up, carrying the four boxes in my arms.

"You're pretty strong, girl!"

I made a seesaw gesture with my left hand. "Not so much." I was a bit awkward because of the boxes.

Tracey signed for our bill at the register and we walked to the elevator to go to the office.

"I guess you work out a lot?" Tracey asked as she pushed the elevator's button.

"Well, not so much. Danielle and I used to jog every weekend, but we haven't jogged for a long time now."

"Well, you seem to be in good shape regardless." Tracey grinned.

I looked at her and waggled my eyebrows in a funny way. "You think, huh?"

She felt the biceps on my right arm. "You really got some muscles on ya," she said.

"Watch it, babe," I giggled, "or else, I'm telling Nikki on you."

The elevator opened and Tracey used her ID to open KRPQ's sliding glass door. She waved to everyone who was still in the office, and I headed to the bullpen while Tracey detoured to her mom's office.

There was no one in the bullpen so I picked the biggest available desk and plopped my load down.

Opening the first box, I pulled out a pile of the posters. They were pretty nice and glossy posters, and I liked 'em. What I didn't like, though, was that each of us had our names under each of our pictures. Well, not everyone - just the deejays and the UB guys, and just our first names in small white type, like under my picture, it said "Robin aka The Nighthawk - KRPQ." For Danielle, it said "Dannie - Guitar and Vocals - Unlimited Bandwidth."

I didn't know how the others who didn't have their names printed out would feel. Also, I thought that having our names on the poster felt a little hokey. But then… I stood up and looked at our posters from a few feet away and I couldn't see the labels any more. Hmmm… Pretty smart - they identified the people in the pictures but they didn't mess up the aesthetic.

I looked through the other posters, and for those that had non-band or non-deejay peeps as the subject, like that Alley-Oop jump shot with Drew and June in the foreground, it identified Drew as "Drew - KRPQ," and that was the same for similar posters, like the ones with Morgan, or Nikki or whoever in them.

After a few minutes, Tracey came back with half a dozen red sharpies and half a dozen blue ones.

"Thanks, Trace," I said. "Do you have a big piece of paper or something, though?"

"Ummm, no…"

"Ahhh! I have an idea."

I grabbed the top of the box and practice-signed on the cardboard.

"How does that look, Trace," I asked.

"That's great, Danny!" she said… "ooops, I mean, Robin… but I think you need to make it a bit bigger."

"Gotcha!" And I started signing. And then I realized something.

"Hey, Trace," I said, "so do I sign as Robin or as Dannie?"

"Mom says as both, actually - it's both of them that the sponsors recognize and want."

"No prob. I'll use the red sharpie for Dannie and the blue for Robin. But how about those posters where Dannie or Robin aren't the subject?" I pulled the jumpshot one with Drew and June as an example.

"Gee… I don't know…"

"What if I sign this like, 'in behalf of Drew, June and the guys - Dannie and Robin,' and I don't make it as big."

"Sounds good, actually. Go with that."

"Okay! Here I go…"

And I started signing 576 posters. And then I came to ones I haven't seen before. It was a pair of posters for Cowgirl Jeans, but in these ones, it was just Lou and Dennis - one was the pair standing in the booth back-to-back, and in another was the two sitting in front of the console, Dennis smoking a cigarette and Lou speaking into the boom mike and pointing to someone outside of the frame, both of them clearly hyper and excited. Both of them were, of course, wearing Cowgirl jeans. And above them was the motto, "Not just for girls."

"Wow!" I said. These posters weren't KRPQ posters, although it had the station's little logo in the lower part, as well as the legend, "Cowgirl Jeans is an Official Partner of KRPQ Radio."

"Oh, those aren't KRPQ posters, Tracey said, "they're ads for Cowgirl Jeans. They just wanted Dennis and Lou to sign a bunch of them, so the printers just shoved them in a few of the boxes. Cowgirl said they were gonna start a new campaign, and they wanted Dennis and Lou. I don't know the details, though, so don't ask me. Which reminds me - I need to get them to autograph their posters."

"Well, good for the guys! But I don't know how they can live down modelling Cowgirl Jeans, though," I chuckled.

I continued signing and signing and signing, doing it slowly, taking my time and made steady progress - I didn't want my hand cramping and messing up my writing, so I took my time.

After a few hours, I finished all four boxes of posters. Thank god!

"Done!" I said to Tracey, and grinned. She grinned back and nodded.

"Hey," she said as she started packing away the posters, "I don't see the guys around."

"Oh," I replied. "I told them that the both of us would just be doing something pretty boring tonight, so they decided to do their own thing."

"Even Nikki?"

I shrugged. I couldn't tell Tracey or the guys that the reason I asked them not to join us was that I was worried for them - that Janet was still out there, and if they were around me, they'd be in danger.

"I have to tell you, I think the guys think you're mad at them or something," she said.

"No! Tracey, no, no! I'm not mad at them! I'm not mad at anyone!"

She shrugged. "Joanne called earlier. She said Nikki was at Betsy's crying."

"Oh, no…"

"Well, let me put these in mom's office and maybe we can pass by Betsy's?"

"Okay…"

to be continued...

 

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