The past few days had not been kind to Janey. The spell that she cast on Halloween night in hopes of becoming Bobby's Girl had come with a side effect so horrible it made her flip out + start tearing up her room, convinced there could be nothing worse than this! Then she was hauled off to jail, which in fact was quite a bit worse. But now Janey was reunited with her family + going home, so at least she knew she wasn't destined to end up in a cage in some Freak Zoo. But what kind of life could a girl who didn't quite officially exist + who wasn't completely a girl anymore look forward to? She sure had made a mess of everything with that stupid magic spell!

Or had she?

IT'S MY PARTY AND I'LL CRY IF I WANT TO
The Sequel to BOBBY'S GIRL
Part Three: COMING HOME
Laika Pupkino ~ 2019

NOTE: This story is a direct sequel to my short 2009 Halloween tale BOBBY'S GIRL which should really be read first, and can be found HERE: https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/15425/bobbys-girl
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“It's my party and I'll cry if I want to;
Cry if I want to,
cry if I want to;
You would cry too if this happened to you!”
~Mike the Headless Chicken
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Janey was led back to the same interrogation room Detective Bradshaw had questioned her in the previous morning. But there were three more chairs around the table, with Officer Martinelli and Janey's mom and dad sitting in them, so maybe it was more of a conference room now.

On the table in front of Det. Bradshaw was a briefcase that looked just about empty, and the lady police officer and her parents each had a manila folder in front of them. Her dad's was lying open and Janey could see a photostatic copy of one of those card things like Officer Gina had pressed her inky fingers to on the previous morning. And this xerox probably was of that same card; she couldn't think of why they would be looking at somebody else's fingerprints...

“Honey is it really you?” asked her mom. She stood up and gestured like she wanted to take Janey in her arms.

“It is, Mommy!” mewled Janey, rushing toward her mother and a desperately-needed hug. “I'm sooooooooooo sorry! I never should've messed with that dumb magic book!”

“DON'T!” barked Detective Bradshaw in a fierce tone that stopped them both in their tracks. “There will be time for that later. We have a great deal to hash out about what actually happened on Halloween night; about who's really who here and what we should do about it if she is. Take a seat, Jane.”

Janey sat. Her mom was smiling at her but her dad was frowning, like he was struggling to see anything at all familiar in this young stranger he'd called the cops on two days ago. The sound of Bradshaw clearing his throat drew Janey's attention back to him.

He told her, “You are no longer under arrest or a suspect in any criminal case. But if your appearance means anything you're still a minor; So the purpose of this uh, meeting is to determine what we're supposed to do with you.”

“That should be obvious!” said Janey's mom.

“Nothing is obvious about this case, Mrs. Smith. This is hands down the weirdest situation I've seen in my thirty-seven years in law enforcement, and two of those years I spent as an NYPD vice cop in Times Square back in the 70's when it was- Well, it wasn't a place you'd take the kids to; and I saw things that were weirder than I'd ever thought was possible. Which should give you some perspective on how unbelievable this case is to me. I know I didn't believe Officer Martinelli when she came to me with what she'd discovered. But evidence is evidence; and two DNA records and two sets of fingerprints taken seven years apart prove that just as she's been claiming all along, the young woman who has just joined us is the same person as this child here,” said Detective Bradshaw as he grabbed the last remaining item from his briefcase an 8x10 photograph that he he held up and moved back and forth to let everyone get a good look at it.

It was Janey as she'd appeared two years earlier, in a bright lime green sweater that didn't flatter her spotty red complexion. Her hair looked like someone who didn't know quite what they were doing had tried to give her a perm, and her face wearing that expression of barely contained panic it always did when she knew she was about to be photographed. A print she'd seen every day, hanging in their hallway alongside other framed family photos; which her parents must have grabbed to bring with them.

“Thanksgiving 2007,” Janey blurted out, remembering her mom's attempt to 'do something' with her unmanageable hair and how bad it had stunk.

“Okay show-off,” smirked the detective after looking at what was penciled on the back of the print, and asked her, “But you can understand why we found your story so hard to believe, can't you?”

“Yeah I can,” said Janey faintly.

Then Bradshaw turned to her mom and dad, “So what about you? Do you believe that in spite of that the fact that she looks nothing like her, the fingerprints and the gene mapping results prove that the girl we arrested is your daughter Jane Frances Smith?”

Brad Smith tapped the file folder in front of him, “As crazy as it seems I'd have to say this DNA stuff proves she is.”

“And you, Mrs. Smith? Are you convinced?”

Linda Smith held her hand up solemnly, “I am. I swear!”

“You don't have to raise your hand, Mrs. Smith; You're not under oath or whatever. This isn't a hearing or some official inquiry, it's just a- Well I'm not sure what this is. It's not exactly how we do things. If I'd had any brains I would've kicked this mess up the chain of command to Chief Throckmorton and let him deal with it. Or call in those two FBI agents from that TV show where all the weird stuff happens---the space monsters and all that---because this is just about like that. But I didn't so, uh, here we are,” said the detective with a bemused little shrug.

“I think we're doing exactly the right thing here,” Officer Martinelli told him, “And I'm pretty sure you think so too. By-the-book is almost always the way to do things, but there really isn't a book for a thing like this. Which means we need to follow the first rule of juvenile justice.”

“'Do what's in the best interest of the child',” recited Bradshaw, “I guess you're right. Better to take care of this quietly, in a way that will satisfy all the parties it actually concerns. We don't need this thing turning into a circus.”

“Janey especially doesn't need that,” said Gina, “The poor kid's gone through enough hell as it is; And could you imagine what The Post would do with a story this strange?”

“It would be right up their alley,” said Bradshaw, “Especially with her, ahhh, unusual attributes.”

“Unusual attributes?!” asked Janey's mom anxiously, sensing there was something these two weren't saying. But when her husband pointed at the right and then his left side of his chest she nodded 'Oh yes, of course!' Their little girl certainly was unusually busty now. Linda shuddered inwardly as she imagined what sort of picture of Janey the sleazy tabloid rag would put on its front page.

Bradshaw said, “But you can rest assured that---on our end of things anyway---this story will never go beyond this room; which I chose because the way these older police stations were designed, the interrogation rooms tend to be somewhat secluded; for reasons that I'll leave up to your imaginations. But now, if you'd care to indulge me, if anyone here can think of an explanation for how a seventeen year old girl could change as much as Janey here apparently did between the time you left for your Halloween party and when you came into her room at six the next morning I'd love to hear it. Because I've got nothing, not a clue; and it's baffling the hell out of me!”

“Well I bought these books at a garage sale-”

“An explanation that DOESN'T start with 'I bought a magical cook book'!” said Bradshaw loudly.

“Sorry, no,” said Mr. Smith while Officer Gina made an 'I'm clueless too!' face and shook her head.

Janey's mom spoke up, “But maybe 'magical cook book' really does answer the question; as ridiculous as I know it sounds. The old woman across the street whose book Janey says she got that magic spell out of? This neighbor of ours Gladys Weaver used to go around telling people she'd seen Rosa doing things you couldn't explain; but Gladys was a bit of a- Well, more than a bit of drunk, actually; So I always took it with a grain of- I mean NOBODY can fly! But now I'm thinking maybe some of it was true. And Rosa did solve those three murders in a row back in 1998 and '99; which I didn't know about until I read that article about it. I kidded her: 'You're in the papers now; you're a celebrity!' And I thought she knew, but she got upset. She goes: 'I AM?!? Keeping me anonymous was part of the deal. I can't afford to get famous!' And she stopped helping the police after that.”

Bradshaw snorted like he always did when someone around the station brought up the old stories about the octogenarian supersleuth, and said: “Or she got lucky with her hocus-pocus those three times and decided to quit while she was ahead.”

Officer Martinelli had vaguely known the legends about the 'Psychic Granny' but hadn't connected them with this witch that Janey was talking about until now. She told him, “We should get so lucky! She did walk in and give us the perp's name in the Van der Wahl case, who wasn't anyone we were even looking at! And told us where that other one hid the murder weapon. Two people she'd never even met. That was pretty 'lucky'...”

“I don't know if she was lucky or psychic or what,” said Mrs. Smith, “All I know is I'd heard things about Rosa Farranino, more than a few times! And her granddaughter Joy is sure convinced she had some kind of powers; because right after those officers took Janey away Saturday morning she came over to see me. Joy used to just be a holy terror, with that foul mouth and nasty attitude, making a scene out in the middle of the street at 3 a.m. with those scummy friends of hers! But it's a miracle the way she's turned her life around in this past year-”

“Wait a minute! Joy Farannino?! I know her!” exclaimed Officer Martinelli, remembering the Italian chick she'd had a few confrontations with back when she was still on the beat, working toward getting her college degree for the Youth Liaison position. The most recent one had ended with Gina nursing a split lip (“Don't you 'Paisana' me! I ain't your fucking paisana, you stupid dyke pig-” BOOM!), barely managing to restrain herself from committing some serious police brutality; while Little Miss Think-I'll-Drive-on-the-Sidewalk-a-While got an assault on an officer charge added to her DUI.

Maybe this granddaughter had some kind of voodoo going for her too, mused Gina. Because while the woman did get her license revoked for that, Gina had been stunned to see a usually very tough and savvy judge falling for her bullshit tears of remorse and sentencing her to rehab and fifty hours of community service. Gina asked Janey's mom, “But you say she's cleaned up her act? Like for real?!”

“Did she ever! Joy is someone else you could say just changed overnight. And it seems almost as impossible as what happened to Janey, even if it was just her personality and her attitude. It used to be if she was being nice you knew she wanted something, but now it's 'what can she do for you?' Like last week when she came over and helped Brad get my car running for me, something about the little spaces in the- What she say it was, Honey?”

“The points on the spark plugs. Which is what I thought it was, but she had a feeler guage and set them for me---zip zap!---like she'd done it a hundred times. I never would've suspected Joy knew anything about cars. Well except how to crash one. She was always good at that.”

Janey added, “And she comes over and says 'Hi' to me; instead of just yelling 'Spazz!' and 'Ya little four-eyed dweeb! at me from across the street like she used to. She's really nice now!”

“That's great to hear,” said Gina, who would have put money on Joy Farranino being either OD'd in an alley or serving hard time by now. And while it was good to be reminded that even the worst people can change sometimes, the miraculously reformed addict and all around skank's connection to both the mystery of Janey and this old lady who might have been an actual witch was making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. It couldn't all be a coincidence!

Linda continued her story: “So when Joy came over to ask me what was going on; First I asked her if she knew where Janey was, or if she'd seen anything unusual, because that's all I could think about right then. When she said she didn't, I told her about our crazy intruder and the crazy stuff she was yelling, and how it looked like she was trying to call up the Devil with all those candles and that star thing she'd put on the floor; and that I really thought the worst when I saw that blood on the wall!”

“Sorry,” said Janey with a sheepish grin and held up her bandaged hand.

“So Joy goes 'I know this will sound impossible', and said that if that girl in Janey's room said she was Janey she might of really been her. Because Joy knew for a fact that her nonna's magic was very powerful and could change a person so you'd never recognize them. She goes 'She sure did a number on me and Joy!' and starts laughing. Which I didn't understand; it's weird to talk about yourself in second person like that, and even weirder the way she kept on laughing! And when she realized she couldn't stop she thought that was hilarious too; and just waved bye-bye and left, giggling like a crazy nut all the way home! And I thought 'Oh dear lord, she's back on the drugs when she was doing so good!'”

“Oh no!” cried Janey, dreading what this could mean. Having to keep her window shut to block out the epic screaming matches between Joy and her father, and being called nasty things from across the street again. Plus she was worried for Joy, who she now thought of as a good friend.

“No, baby! Whatever it was that struck her so funny I don't think she was on drugs. It sounded like it then; But here we all are, and you really are Janey, just like she was saying!” Linda said, then turned to Detective Bradshaw, “And all of this tells me that old Rosa really was a witch- the kind you only see on Bewitched or Debra Cadabra. Who can do all that stuff! Maybe not go flying around like Mrs. Weaver said she saw; But some of it! Because if it wasn't magic that did this to Janey, then what was it?”

“I don't know that it even matters how it happened,” said Mr. Smith, “I mean you and Janey both think it was magic. And maybe it was. Or for all we know it was aliens! Or some weird virus the government isn't telling us about. Or what do they call those little machines they're supposed to be developing?”

“What little machines?” asked Linda.

"They're real tiny, like germs; and they- Never mind, it's not important! The point is, something came along and made Janey four inches taller and totally different looking. Maybe you could prove it was a virus if you could find some in her; but how do you prove it was magic? I mean by definition magic does things you can't explain; You might as well say God did it. And unless it could give us a clue about how we can change her back I don't see how knowing what caused this will change anything. The only important question for us is: What do we do now?”

The detective smiled and spread his hands, “Now you take her home. But before you do there's something Officer Martinelli has to discuss with you, about your daughter's, uhm- body; Something I haven't seen but Martinelli has, and I have no reason to doubt she saw what she saw....”

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<=====8 |*| |*| 8=====>

“About her body?!” gasped Janey's mom, “What's wrong with her? Is she sick?!”

Martinelli shot the investigator a scowl that said: 'Thanks for sticking me with this part, John!'; then turned to the frightened parents and said, “No, she's not sick. Or I mean I'm not a doctor, but I don't think so. This is more what you would call a condition.”

“Oh God,” cried Linda, “A CONDITION!!!”

Gina made a placating gesture, “Sometimes condition just means different, Mrs. Smith. Which this is, and pretty rare. But there are people who are born with what Janey has, who go on to live healthy normal lives. Or healthy at least. I can think of much, much worse things someone could be born with than this. Or re-born, like it seems happened to Janey here...”

“So what does she have?” asked Janey's dad.

“Let me tell you what this isn't. It's not Downs Syndrome or blindness or deafness or being unable to walk. It's not childhood leukemia, or some disease like early onset ALS, sitting in a kid's genes like a time bomb to come along and rob him of his abilities one by one, then his whole future,” said Gina glumly, “I had this cousin; Rocco his name was. Thirteen years old. A bright, inquisitive, sensitive boy who dreamed of growing up to be an astronaut. Wanted to walk on Mars someday. But when he was around nine my uncle Angelo noticed he was starting to drop things, and slurring his sp-”

“JUST TELL US!!!” screamed Janey's mom, and then added, “Please?”

“I will. And I swear I'm not just dragging this out for no reason,” said the policewoman, “But before I do I need you to tell me something. Because I've only known her since she was brought to me by the Sheriffs, and you've known her all her life. But When Janey was born, was there ever anything unusual about her anatomy? Or anything odd that you might have noticed later?”

“Odd? Her hair was always lank and stringy and conditioner never seemed to get it to perk up; But no, not really. Why?”

“Okay,” said Gina, “And has she ever been seen by a gynecologist?”

“I just took her in August. She hasn't started having her periods yet, but the doctor said not to worry, that Janey's probably just a late bloomer.”

“But nothing at all out of the ordinary besides that?”

“No,” frowned Mrs. Smith, “WHAT IS THIS?!!”

“Well I'll tell you. When I'd gotten Janey almost to the end of the booking process, where she was supposed to give me her street clothes to put in the property room, take a shower and change into these sweats you see her in, she got very agitated and resistant. Not hostile, or making a game out of giving me flak like some criminal might do, but terrified of what I would find out when she took her shorts off,” she said, “Because in addition to all the changes in her appearance, whatever happened to her seems to have changed her genitals. I can't tell you if she has a uterus or ovaries inside her, but in the area where the vuIva would be on most women, Janey has a penis and testicles like a man.”

Janey's parents didn't both faint dead away, but from the way the blood drained from their faces it seemed like it was touch-and-go for a second.

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<=====8 |*| |*| 8=====>

A moment later Mr. Smith was yelling: “What is this?! Some kind of SICK JOKE?!!”

And Mrs. Smith was sputtering, “B-b-but HOW?! When I took her to that doctor she said she was fine down there. She had her hymen!”

“This is no joke,” said Gina, “And all I can say is it must've happened with the rest of her changes.”

“Well obviously somebody really screwed up here,” said Mr. Smith, “This isn't Janey! It can't be!”

“This is the girl that officers Garland and Babinski arrested in your home Saturday morning,” said Martinelli, “Whose fingerprints and DNA tests both match those of the girl you signed up with the SAFEKIDS program back in Two Thousand and-”

“I DON'T CARE WHAT YOUR DAMN TEST SAY!!” roared Mr. Smith.

“And yet a minute ago you were saying these tests proved she had to be Janey!”

“A MINUTE AGO SHE DIDN'T HAVE A GODDAMN DICK!! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU PEOPLE TRYING TO PULL HERE?!”

“Honey calm down,” said Mrs. Smith.

“But did you hear what she just said?!!?”

When the Smiths were led into the room a half hour earlier it was obvious to Gina where the girl had gotten her terrible shyness from. While Linda Smith wasn't quite as mousy or gun-shy about interacting with others as her daughter was, you could tell she hated making waves and found it comforting when her husband made the decisions and did most of the talking. But Gina was gratified to see that when it came to the well-being of her child, Mrs. Smith could suddenly grow a pair and start asserting herself ('Okay,' she thought, 'That probably wasn't the best metaphor to use right now...')

Linda looked straight at her husband. “Yes I heard what she said! I know it's crazy, and I'm not happy about it; But she's our daughter! Which you just said you were convinced she is!”

Brad Smith crossed his arms in defiance, “Well I'm not convinced now! How the hell did she get a dick?!”

“You just said how she changed didn't matter! And doesn't she act just like Janey, right down to the little things? I mean like that thing she's doing now winding her finger in her hair!”

“They must've coached her how to act!” he spat, pointing accusingly at the two law officers.

“How would they know about the hair thing she does? And who the hell is 'they'?! Why would anyone go through such a complicated charade? What would they get out of it?!”

Brad tried to think of a reason for the far-reaching conspiracy that must be behind this deception, but he was having a hard time organizing the chaos of his thoughts, which seemed to all be whirling around like cows and gasoline trucks caught in a tornado of pink giggling cartoon penises, that had faces like those weird girly goldfish in Fantasia. He stammered, “Well muh-maybe this is how they infiltrate.”

“Who infiltrates? What are you talking about?!”

“But that's how they'd do it, you see?! Get to the police first. Fire; the infrastructure! And they'd need hosts, right? To blend in. Maybe some kind of pods, or... or... or-”

"Honey, you're not making any sense!"

And suddenly Mr. Smith was shouting: "Well SHE'S not making any sense!! TEENAGE GIRLS DON'T JUST SUDDENLY GROW A PENIS!!!”

“No they don't,” said Officer Martinelli, “But your daughter did. So get a grip!”

“That thing is not my daughter!”

Janey---who had been downright bubbly just minutes before---burst into tears.

Mr. Smith felt a stab of remorse over making this sexual-hybrid child cry, but if his choice of words had been thoughtless or cruel it was their fault, dammit! For reasons he could not fathom they had called him and Linda down here and were trying to railroad them into some ridiculous scheme that made absolutely no sense, while the real Janey was who knows where, and if they weren't part of it they were dupes of whoever was really behind it, too useless and stupid to be wearing those badges!

Or maybe this wasn't some conspiracy or an invasion of alien penis people---those both suddenly seemed a bit far-fetched---but some evil psychological experiment, or one of those prank reality shows- it was just so hard to think! If this was some kind of gag he was gonna sue the hell out of the bastards!

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<=====8 |*| |*| 8=====>

Gina glared at the man. On a scale of 1 to 10---where 10 was going apeshit on someone's head with a riot baton---she sensed she was at about seven. 9.8 was as high as her anger had ever risen in the line of duty; And whenever she did come close to violently losing her cool it wasn't because some drunken Jersey Shore reject called her a stupid dyke pig, or even landed a punch or two. What triggered Officer Martinelli's rage was when some lowlife (of any social class) harmed, bullied or threatened anyone smaller or weaker than they were. Physical or emotional abuse against a child, spouse, girlfriend, boyfriend or pet never failed to get Gina's blood boiling!

The reason her anger was only at 7 was that she sensed that the way Mr. Smith was behaving was not typical for him. While Janey had clearly had serious issues long before she grew a penis, one thing Gina never sensed from the child was any red flags that she had been abused. Janey had been valued and loved in her home environment; and was so over-protected that she hadn't grown much of a defensive hide against the normal slings and arrows of life; but neither parent had traumatized Janey in any way. Gina had only talked to the girl for about an hour, but her gut-feeling about things like this usually turned out to be right.

But what he'd said just now was totally uncalled for, and she snarled, “That 'thing'?! 'Not your daughter'?! Remember that you said that, because you can bet she's going to- for the rest of her life!”

Gina knew from firsthand experience that a shattered relationship can be mended if both family members want it bad enough; and that even a pronouncement like: 'I have no daughter!' can be forgiven in time. But you never forgot hearing it, or that nightmare moment when you learned just how conditional a parent's 'unconditional love' can be...

“It's funny,” she said humorlessly, “You were all set to take Janey home when you thought she'd been turned into some flawless beauty. But now you found out she does have a flaw, and suddenly she's damaged goods that you want to just throw away!”

“I never said that!”

“You didn't have to. She heard it loud and clear,” Gina said, and in her best Clint Eastwood growl asked him, “You find the idea of what she is repellent? You think it makes her some kind of freak?! I've got news for you: Janey thinks so too, and she hates herself! This is your child, and she hates herself!! The poor girl has been going through hell since she got here; locked up in a strange place, scared, completely alone, and she needs you! LOOK AT HER, GOD DAMN YOU!!”

Brad turned to look at the sobbing girl, who was crying so hard she could barely get the words out: “I'm sorry I have a penis, Daddy! Please don't throw me away!”

And suddenly---like some computer generated effect in a movie---Brad could see her face emerge from this teenage stranger's face; The child who had always been the most beautiful sight in the world to him even with her lank hair, the smattering of zits on her chin, and those big heavy glasses that seemed to be dirty again ten minutes after she cleaned them. His beautiful baby girl!

Brad crumbled. “Oh God! Janey Honey; I am so, so sorry! I can't even begin to-”

“And I'm sorry too, Daddy,” whimpered Janey, “I didn't mean to get intersexed!”

“No Sweetie, you have nothing to be sorry about,” said Brad, and stood up, “Can your mean stupid Daddy have a hug?”

This time Detective Bradshaw allowed the hug.

And the next hug, and the one after that. Father hugging daughter; Mother hugging daughter (“Oh my baby! What did you DO to yourself?!!”); Husband hugging wife (“You were always the smart one in this family...”). And maybe it was her watery eyes, but Gina found herself suddenly blindsided and grabbed tightly by Mrs. Smith, who whispered: “Thank you!”

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<=====8 |*| |*| 8=====>

All that was left to do was to give Jane Smith back the clothes she'd been arrested in and collect her county issued ones. She was no longer considered a prisoner, so instead of making her change right at the property room window in front of everyone Gina led Janey and her parents to a visitor's Unisex/Handicapped bathroom and sent Janey in to change.

As they waited Officer Martinelli asked Mr. Smith, “So you're good with this? You don't think we're the pod people or something?”

He let out a sad, embarrassed laugh. “I'm better with 'this' than I am with myself right now. I feel like a real horse's rear end!”

“This was a very strange situation,” Gina told him, “Nobody can say how they're going to react to something this far outside of anything they ever thought they'd be dealing with. But you came through it and did what a father's supposed to do. I've seen way too many dads and moms who can't even bother to take care of the basics. Or take all their anger from their bad choices out on their kids. And as much as I care for Janey, I didn't raise her for 17 years and then suddenly she's totally unrecognizable and so medically- uh, unusual.”

“You do, don't you?” said Mrs. Smith, “Care for Janey...”

“She's a sweet kid. Eager to please, no chip on her shoulder; Definitely a better daughter than I was at her age.”

“She grows on you, doesn't she?” grinned Mr. Smith.

“Yes she does. And if you folks don't mind I'd like to come check up on her in a few days and see how she's doing. This wouldn't be in any official capacity,” Gina explained, “It's not an 'inspection' and has nothing to do with Child Protective Services or anything like that. I guess it's just me being nosy. And I'd call ahead first to see if it's convenient.”

“Of course you can!” said Mrs. Smith.

“Drop by any time,” said her husband, “Linda's usually home and I get in around five most weekdays.”

Gina was pleased by this response to her asking for a follow up to what wasn't even a criminal case anymore. Good parents liked it when you took an interest in their child's well being and safety. It was the ones who in the aftermath of some business she'd had with their child would say things like 'How I raise my kid is none of your damn business!' that she made sure to drop in on unannounced.

Janey came out of the bathroom; sniffling like she'd been crying again, all changed and ready to go home. But first she wanted a hug from Officer Martinelli.

There were rules about this sort of thing, but from the way Janey's parents were beaming at her like she was some kind of hero Gina knew it would be okay. As they embraced Janey---who had heard enough of the policewoman's unfinished story to know it hadn't ended well---said, “I'm sorry about your cousin Rocky...”

“Me too,” said Gina, “You and him would've gotten along great.”

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<=====8 |*| |*| 8=====>

As the family drove south down Albert Einstein Blvd., Mr. Smith called back to his daughter, “Let's play a little game, Janey. I'm going to ask you a lot of questions, most of them will be so easy they'll seem silly, but you just answer them. Okay?”

“Sure,” said Janey happily. She was so glad to be out of that ugly place!

“Okay, this first one is very, very easy: What day and year were you born?”

Janey told him her birthday, then frowned, “But this isn't really a game, is it Daddy?”

Brad kept forgetting that his daughter wasn't as utterly credulous as she'd been even at the start of high school two years earlier. He sighed. “No honey, it's not. But I just have to know for sure.”

“And I need to know that you know. So ask me everything you can think of.”

Which is what he did. All the way home and then for another hour in their living room Brad Smith gave her the Things-Only-Janey-Could-Know test, asking for details big and small about his daughter's life and trying to trick her with questions about relatives and former pets who didn't exist.

It was getting close to noon when Linda broke in: “How much longer are you gonna keep doing this?”

“I guess I'm done. If she hasn't missed one yet she's not going to. She's either Janey or she's a mind reader and she's plucking the answers out of my head. Which isn't possible either. And so with two impossibles to choose from I'll go with the one that has fingerprints and DNA records to back it up,” Brad told her, then said to his daughter, “Okay Honey, no more questions. I just had to make extra sure. I'm sorry if I was giving you the third degree; you probably got enough of that from that Detective...”

“It's okay,” said Janey, “Sometimes I don't even know if I'm me! When I went into the bathroom at the police station and the lights came on I said, 'Oh, excuse me!' because I thought it was some girl in there, just standing there in the dark. But she was me in the mirror and was saying it back at me, and I went 'Wow!' And for a while I just stared at my reflection, who was like some stranger. And even now, when I look at my hands and see these long fingers I got; or look down and see I've got these- you know, my chest, it's like I'm riding around inside of somebody else. And it's so weird how I suddenly got as tall as Mom. I feel like I'm on stilts!”

“You might even be a smidge taller than me,” said her mom, “But now I have a question: What do you guy want for lunch?”

Brad shrugged, “You know me. Whatever you've got.”

“Can we have grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup?”

Linda smiled. These had always been her daughter's go-to comfort food after a trying day. “Of course, Dumpling!”

“But I really need to get into some other clothes first,” said Janey, “This shirt's too small, and these shorts feel all tight in weird places! I really hope there's something of mine I can still wear.

“We'll find you something,” said her mom.

“I sort of wish I coulda kept those sweats they made me wear in jail. Those were comfortable, like wearing PJ's.”

“I have a pair of sweats I'm pretty sure will fit you. And your father can loan you a few of his t-shirts until we can go shopping and get you some new outfits.”

“Thank you!” said Janey. It was the most enthusiastic she'd ever sounded about clothes shopping.

“Do you want to take a bath first?”

“A bubble bath?”

“Of course,” her mom grinned. This was another favorite comfort ritual of Janey's...

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<=====8 |*| |*| 8=====>

Linda, and went upstairs and filled the tub for her; poured some HUGGLEBUGS HUBBLE-BUBBLE BUBBLEBATH into it from the box with the creepy dementedly smiling bug-people on it, and stirred it around. When the water temperature and everything were just right she called Janey up for her bath.

Like cutting Janey's food up on her plate for her, physically washing her and shampooing her hair was something Linda had done for Janey long past the age when most parents decide their child could manage to do these things on their own. Janey hadn't been as old as ten but she hadn't been five either when her father finally put his foot down and more or less ordered his wife to stop helping her bathe (“This isn't helping her!”). It was one of the few arguments between them that Janey could recall (“It's just not normal, damn it!”) and it had somehow made Janey feel like she'd been caught doing something shameful and wrong...

But the bathroom was still a space that Janey and her mother shared with little concern for privacy, one often coming in to use the toilet while the other bathed or changed or whatever. But now Janey found herself extremely uncomfortable with the idea of disrobing in front of her mom. “Could you please leave, please?”

“Honey, I'm still your mother...”

“But I'm not still your daughter!” gulped Janey, and suddenly she was in tears again.

“Don't be silly! You'll always be my little girl,” said Linda as she grabbed her in a hug that Janey resisted for all of a second before collapsing against her.

“But I'm not a girl!” Janey blubbered, “I'm a THING! Daddy said so!”

“Ssshhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” went Linda, rocking her from side to side, “Daddy was just upset. People say things they don't mean when they're upset. And that DNA test said you're my daughter, with my girl chromosomes inside you. Or in most of you. Remember what the nice police lady said? You just have a condition, is all. And condition just means different, it doesn't mean bad.”

“I know, but I don't like it! I didn't want this!”

“I know, Baby,” murmured her mom soothingly, “I wouldn't like it either if it happened to me. But remember the other thing Officer Gina said? If this spell could do this to you, then it probably could have done something much, much worse! I mean you could have woken up on Saturday morning blind, or with that Jerry Lewis Disease, or-”

“Or WITHOUT A HEAD!” whooped Janey, and she was suddenly laughing through her tears, imagining herself making ridiculous squawking and gurgling noises and running brainlessly in circles like the title character of the Cartoon Network series The Misadventures of Mike the Headless Chicken!

Linda eased herself out of the hug and stood there grinning and shaking her head over her daughter's hysterics. “Are you laughing about that stupid chicken again?! I honestly don't know why you kids think that show is so funny. All he does is run around crashing into walls!”

“He's a headless chicken! What do you expect him to do?!” giggled Janey, and then grew somber again, “Besides, I got to have something to laugh about, my life sure isn't funny. I'm supposed to graduate in a little over six months. How am I gonna go to back school being someone who doesn't even exist?”

“Your father and I will figure something out, I promise. But you should get in the tub before the water gets cold. There's clothes on the counter there, lunch will be ready when you come down.”

“'Kay,” nodded Janey. She pulled her t-shirt off over her head, and after a second's hesitation pulled down her shorts and stepped out of them---resigned to the fact that her mother sometimes seeing her disgusting alien genitals was going to be part of her new life---and eased herself down into the foamy water.

“Do you want the music on?”

Janey nodded, and she clicked on the little replica cathedral radio on the counter as she left. It was tuned to a station that played songs that were already oldies when Linda was growing up, but it was her station, and Janey had grown into a teenager knowing more about the pop music of the 50's, the 60's and the first half of the 70's than about anything her contemporaries might listen to.

Relaxing in the tub, Janey decided it was going to be bubble baths from now on. The suds hid the sight of her hated new protuberance, so she could almost pretend she was normal...

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<=====8 |*| |*| 8=====>

As Linda started down the stairs room she could hear Janey screeching happily along with the radio: “It's my party and I'll cry if I want to! Cry if I want to! Cry if I want to-”

Whatever had given her daughter such a beautiful face sure hadn't done the same for her voice. But now that she was hearing Janey without seeing her changed appearance it occurred to Linda that her daughter's singing voice and speaking voice both sounded exactly the same as they always had. Janey could answer the phone when Grandma called and Grandma would instantly know who it was. It seemed strange to Linda that she hadn't noticed this before, but it might be why she had already been half-convinced that their “home invader” really was who she said she was even as the sheriffs were hauling her away...

She hurried down the steps and into the living room where her husband was sitting in his La-Z Boy watching some sports thing. “Listen to that, Brad!”

Brad listened, smiling at Janey's enthusiasm but cringing at everything else about her singing. He chuckled, “Okay, so she's not exactly American Idol material... ”

“But I mean listen to her! Who does that sound like?”

The boy in the old Lesley Gore song was named Johnny, but Janey was changing it to:
“Nobody knows where my BOBBY has gone
But Holly left at the same time
Why oh why was he holding her hand
When BOBBY'S supposed to be mine?
It's my party and I'll cry if I want to,
cry if I want to-”

Brad's jaw dropped open. “Good Lord, you're right!”

“Still think you need to ask her more questions?”

“If I did, I sure don't now!” he declared. But Janey's voice wasn't the thing about her that he had been anxious to know about. He asked, “So is it true what those cops were saying about Janey? I mean, did you see it?!”

“I saw it. And let's just say I don't think Janey will be giving us any grandkids now. Or not unless she- Oh God!” cried Linda, her mind recoiling at the notion that had popped into it. Not because she was homophobic or strongly opposed to the idea of their daughter being in a relationship with another female (if she met a NICE female...); but just the sheer impossibility of: 'Our little girl's a daddy now!'

Brad figured out what Linda was Oh God-ing about, and had a similar reaction. Along with that 'pregnant man' who had been all in the news a few months ago, the world sure was becoming a crazy place! He asked her, “Do you think she could? Would that even be possible?”

“How would I know? But from what I saw it didn't seem impossible...”

“Maybe a doctor would be able to tell us what's what with her. She needs to see one anyway, right? See if she has any health issues we should be worried about?”

“Definitely,” said Linda, “But we can't take her back to Dr. Nilsson. I mean how would we explain that this is the same girl he'd seen last time? And whoever she sees, do we take her there as Janey, so she's covered by our health plan?”

“I don't know. Until we can get her legal identity squared away I'm not sure if that would be wise.”

“And how do we get that squared away?”

“I have no idea, this isn't something I ever thought would come up. But I'll think of something. The main thing right now is to get her looked at. If we have to pay the whole bill, we'll pay it. With this raise I just got it's not like we're hurting.”

“All right, I'll look around and find one who can see her,” said Linda “This is a mess, isn't it?”

“You're not kidding! And all because she wanted some cookbooks...”

Then they heard Janey coming down the stairs and both put on big smiles.

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<~~~|||~~~>
END OF PART THREE
<~~~|||~~~>.
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Mike the Headless Chicken:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mike_the_Headless_Chicken

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I'm feeling lonely + would really love some comments.
Preferably about the story but I'll take anything...