Selby Snaps (16 page)

‘I’ll explain later!’ Selby said. ‘Quick! Over to the bed! There’s a dragon coming!’

Selby, Percy and the Trifles jumped onto the bed just as the dragon came over the hill.

‘There’s no time to waste,’ Selby said. ‘Start us jiggling! Grab the controls, Percy!’

The dragon lumbered closer. Fire shot from his mouth as he let out a roar. Percy Peach snatched the controls and turned up the dial.

‘Nothing’s happening!’ he said. ‘Oh, no, it isn’t plugged in!’

‘Then plug it in!’ Selby screamed.

‘Where?! We’re outdoors — besides electricity hadn’t been invented yet!’

‘Great,’ Selby thought as the dragon looked down. ‘This is it!’

They sat trembling with fear as the dragon licked his lips, wondering which one to eat first. Then, just as he lunged at Selby, their trembling turned to a shake and then a vibration — just as it did when the B-E-D was plugged in. Suddenly they must have reached a hyper-sympathetic coefficient of molecular frequency because there was a loud
snap!,
and Selby, Percy and the Trifles were tumbling through darkness. Seconds later, they landed with a thud back in Bogusville.

For a moment everything was quiet. The bed was vibrating gently. Selby looked at the others, lying there. Slowly they opened their eyes.

‘I feel really weird,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘I’ve got a dragon running around in my head.’

‘So have I,’ Percy and Dr Trifle said together.

‘Well at least he’s not running around here,’ Selby said, trying to make a joke of it.

Mrs Trifle suddenly sat up straight and stared at Selby.

‘I beg your pardon?’ she said.

‘I said, that it’s good that the dragon isn’t here. I mean it’s good that we got away from him.’

‘B-B-But you spoke!’ she cried.

‘In plain English!’ Dr Trifle added.

‘So what?’ Selby said. ‘You heard me talk before — at the castle, remember?’

‘Castle?’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘What castle? What
are
you talking about? Why are you talking?! Dogs aren’t supposed to talk.’

The three of them were now pacing around the room, looking at Selby.

‘Do you have any idea what this means?!’ Percy cried. ‘Okay so we didn’t go through a wormhole — but this! The vibrations must have started him talking. We’re all going to be rich!’

‘Rich?’ Dr Trifle said.

‘Yes
people will pay gobs of money to hire him — he’ll be on TV and in the movies! He’ll have his own fan magazine! We’ll charge admission to see him! Scientists will pay us heaps of money to ask him questions all day!’

‘But he’s
our
dog, not yours,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘And I don’t think it would be very nice to make him famous. His life — and ours —
would be ruined. I don’t think we should tell anyone.’

‘I agree,’ said Dr Trifle.

‘Of course it would be nice to have an extra pair of hands — well,
paws
really — around the house,’ Mrs Trifle added. ‘I think Selby would be a good little dishwasher and house cleaner.’

‘And bed-maker,’ Dr Trifle added.

‘I don’t care whose dog he is,’ Percy said. ‘If it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t know he could talk. I’m going to sell “The True Story of Selby the Talking Dog” to every newspaper and magazine in the world!’

‘Please don’t,’ Selby pleaded. ‘Okay, so I’ve known how to talk for years. I just didn’t tell you because I want to be left alone. Can’t we just forget about this? I promise I’ll never say another word.’

Mrs Trifle frowned.

‘We love you very much, Selby,’ she said. ‘We’ve done everything for you. And you’ve been a good pet. But you haven’t been entirely honest with us, now have you?’

‘Well I wasn’t dishonest. I just didn’t tell you that I could talk, that’s all.’

‘You listened in to our conversations for years. Do you know how embarrassing that is?’

‘I tried not to listen,’ Selby said. ‘Oh, please, let’s just forget about everything.’

‘How can we?’ Dr Trifle said. ‘We can’t just pretend you’re just an ordinary non-talking pet. No, Selby, I’m afraid that your life — and ours — has changed forever, whether we like it or not.’

‘Oh, why oh why did I talk?’ Selby thought. A salty tear made its way down his cheek and into his mouth. ‘This is awful. The B-E-D
didn’t
work. It just put me to sleep. The whole castle thing was just a dream. Oh how I wish they didn’t know I can talk. I wish I could have my life back!’

Percy and the Trifles stood there in silence for a second looking at Selby. There was a strange stillness in the air. Then Mrs Trifle moved again. She reached down and picked him up.

‘Oh, Selby,’ she said. ‘You look all worried and nervous. What’s wrong? Did you have a bad dream?’

‘He must have,’ Dr Trifle said, patting him. ‘If only we knew what was on that little mind of his. If only he could talk to us.’

‘A talking dog?’ Percy said, heading for the front door. ‘That’s as silly as my wormhole theory. See you next time I’m in town, folks. Bye.’

‘Good grief!’ Selby thought as the astronomer drove away. ‘Suddenly they don’t know I can talk anymore! What happened?’

‘I think I know what he’d tell us if he could talk,’ Mrs Trifle said, reaching for one of Selby’s paws.

‘You do?’ Dr Trifle said.

‘Yes, he’d say, “I’ve got a ring stuck on my toe and it hurts",’ Mrs Trifle said, taking the ring off Selby’s toe. ‘Look, someone must have dropped this cheap ring and it got stuck on Selby’s toe, poor baby. I wonder how long he’s been walking around like this.’

Selby looked up at the Trifles.

‘The Wishing Ring!’ he thought. ‘There was still one more wish in it after all. I just forgot to say the word “wish” when we were at the castle so the magic didn’t work. And it wasn’t all a dream after all, but luckily the Trifles don’t remember it.’

A warm feeling came over him as he thought of all the wonderful times he’d had there in the
nicest little house in the nicest little town in Australia, and perhaps, the world.

‘I’m just so lucky to be at home again with the Trifles,’ Selby thought, ‘my very favourite people in this whole wrinkled universe. I love them so much I could burst. Now that’s
real
magic.’

I blipped a dragon on the head
And thought that he was surely dead
Until he said, through fire and smoke,
‘You seem a decent sort of bloke
So tell me if you have a reason
For blipping dragons out of season.
And while you’re at it tell me, do:
Whatever did I do to you?’

He had a point, that much I gave him
But talking wasn’t going to save him.
‘You’re right,’ I smiled. ‘I must agree
Yu’ve never done a thing to me.
Your only gaffe, your big mistake
Was being born a dragon, mate.’

‘So save your breath, make no excuses
You dragons have no other uses.
You were invented, don’t you see?
For dragon-blipping knights - like me.’

With this I raised my knobbly stick.
He closed his eyes and bit his lip.
(I guess I could have used a gun
But blipping them is much more fun.)

‘Okay, you’ve had your little joke!’
(He sort of whimpered as he spoke.)
‘Please don’t hit me with that club!
This time you’re going to make me blub!’

The creature must have realised
I hate it when a dragon cries.

I dropped my club and turned to go
Perhaps I was a wee bit slow
Just when I should have really fled
The mongrel blipped
me
on the head!

The author would like to thank Rod Morrison for his excellent editing; Barbara Pepworth for her eagle proofreading eye; the team of Beverley Stevenson, Lyndall Thomas and Ben Bishop for turning Selby into a cyber celebrity through Selby’s web site; and many more thanks for the often-unthanked others at HarperCollins
Publishers
who slave tirelessly into the wee hours to fill that yawning gulf of demand for more copies of books about this ever-humble little dog.

Duncan Ball is an Australian author and scriptwriter, best known for his popular books for children. Among his most-loved works are the Selby books of stories plus the collections
Selby’s Selection, Selby’s Joke Book
and
Selby’s Side-splitting Joke Book.
Some of these books have also been published in New Zealand, Germany, Japan and the USA, and have won countless awards, most of which were voted by the children themselves.

Among Duncan’s other books are the Emily Eyefinger series about the adventures of a girl who was born with an eye on the end of her finger, and the comedy novels
Piggott Place
and
Piggotts in Peril,
about the frustrations of twelve-year-old Bert Piggott forever struggling to get his family of ratbags and dreamers out of the trouble they are constantly getting themselves into.

Duncan lives in Sydney with his wife, Jill, and their cat, Jasper. Jasper often keeps Duncan company while he’s writing and has been known to help by walking on the keyboard. Once, returning to his work, Duncan found the following word had mysteriously appeared on screen: ikantawq …………..