Selby Splits (2 page)

‘Isn’t she?’

‘No, she’s a close relative, though: an Amazon
Twitching
Spider, the deadliest spider on earth.’

‘Goodness me!’ Mrs Trifle exclaimed. ‘And Postie
touched
her.’

‘He’s lucky to be alive then. One tiny scratch from this little beastie and things begin to happen.’

‘Gulp,’ Selby thought.‘What sorts of things?’

‘What sorts of things?’ Mrs Trifle asked.

‘First there’s the tingling —’

‘Tingling?’ Selby thought. ‘But I’m tingling all over!’

‘Then there’s a numbness that creeps up the legs —’

‘I can feel it!’ Selby screamed silently. ‘It’s creeping up my legs!’

‘After that the throat seizes up and you gasp for breath —’

‘What a coincidence,’ Mrs Trifle said,‘Selby is gasping for breath right now. Then what happens?’

‘You sweat. Your body freezes, then death follows,’ the woman said.

‘Selby is dripping with sweat,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘If I didn’t know better I’d have thought he’d been bitten by that spider. What a riot.’

‘Riot schmiot!’ Selby thought.‘I’m frozen. I’m dying and it’s all my fault! And all because I wanted to answer my emails. Now I’ve got to talk to Mrs Trifle. In the few minutes I have left on this earth, I want to thank her and Dr Trifle for everything they’ve done for me. I’ve decided — I’m going to talk.’

Selby looked up at Mrs Trifle and Dr Webb. He was about to say, ‘Sorry to shock you like this, but I have to tell you that I know how to talk — and read and write. But I just made a silly mistake and Amy bit me, so I guess it’s hello and goodbye,’ when Mrs Trifle got in first and said:

‘How long does it take for a spider like Amy to kill someone?’

‘Five seconds,’ the spiderwoman said. ‘Six seconds, tops. Nobody’s ever made it past seven.’

‘Five, six, seven seconds?’ Selby thought as his breathing returned to normal. ‘It’s already been at least a minute. I haven’t been bitten! I’m going to live!’

‘Poor old thing,’ Mrs Trifle said, stroking Selby.‘I think he was having a bad dream.’

‘You’re not wrong,’ Selby thought. ‘This spider business has been a real nightmare.’

‘I just love to read the “Dear Deirdre” column,’ Selby thought as he secretly read the back page of the
Bogusville Banner
. ‘Deirdre is so good the way she answers questions about people’s problems. She really understands.’

That day there was a letter from a man who lived with his old mother. His girlfriend wanted to marry him but didn’t want to live with his mother. At the end of the letter, instead of signing his name, he wrote ‘Don’t Know What To Do’.

Deirdre answered:

‘Spread our wings and fly,’ Selby thought. ‘Deirdre is so wonderful. She’s so sensitive. I just love her!’

‘Hey, you filthy dog! Get off that newspaper!’

Selby raised his head to see the huge shape of Aunt Jetty
towering above him. But before he could move, she’d whipped the
Bogusville Banner
out from under him.

‘Jetty,’ Mrs Trifle said to her sister. ‘Be nice to Selby’

‘I’m sorry, but the Slaghaven Slugs thrashed the Poshtield Poteroos yesterday,’ Aunt Jetty explained. ‘I want to see what Jock Bashem has to say about it.’

Aunt Jetty read Jock Bashem’s ‘Time Out’ column to herself and giggled as she read.

‘Hey, listen to this,’ she said to her sister.‘“The Poteroos were dead meat for a savage Slugs side. From the minute Crasher Asher bounced off the bench screaming for Poteroo blood, the Pots knew they’d end up with their brains in their boots. At the end of the fifteen-nil slaughter there was nothing left of the losers but arms and legs strewn around the field.” Isn’t that great!’

‘Goodness,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Were there just arms and legs lying around?’

‘No, of course not. But don’t you love the way Jock writes? It’s — it’s poetry!’

‘I’ve never been much for sport,’ Mrs Trifle said.

‘Well I adore him,’ Aunt Jetty squealed. ‘There’s a real man — my kind of man. I’m going to race right home and email him. I’ll tell him how much I love his column.’

‘Poet schmoet,’ Selby thought. ‘He’s about as sensitive as a meat cleaver.’

Selby waited another week for another
Bogusville Banner
to read ‘Dear Deirdre’ again.
This time there was a letter from a girl.

‘Hmmm,’ Selby hmmmed. ‘Now there’s a real problem. I wonder how Dear Deirdre will handle it. Let’s see now …’

‘She’s sooooooo good,’ Selby thought. ‘She’s funny but she’s also wise. I wonder what Deirdre looks like. I’m dying of curiosity. I reckon she’s tall and slim with long blonde hair. I’ll bet she’s gorgeous. Hey, I know, maybe I’ll just pop down to the
Bogusville Banner
and find out for myself.’

Minutes later Selby was at the newspaper office, standing on his hind legs and peering through the front window.

‘How will I know which one she is?’ he wondered. ‘Oh, this is easy, there’s only one woman in the place. She’s not very tall — she’s quite short in fact. And she’s a bit plump. And she doesn’t have long blonde hair but short dark hair. People never look the way you expect. Okay, so she’s also not gorgeous but, to me, she’s the most beautiful person on earth.’

Selby crept through the open door for a closer look at Deirdre. But, as he did, a man, chewing a huge cigar, spun around in his chair.

‘Beat it, dog!’ he yelled. ‘Get your tail out of here before I kick you through the window!’

Selby ran for the door but the man had already rolled up a copy of the newspaper and smacked him with it. In a second, Selby was out the door and rubbing his ear with his paw.

‘I’ll tell you what,’ Selby thought. ‘That Jock Bashem is
exactly
what I expected! What a mongrel! No wonder Aunt Jetty likes him — he looks like her!’

Selby hung around outside the office as night fell. Finally the office closed and the reporters came out. Some of them went into the restaurant next door, The Spicy Onion. But Deirdre said that she had to cook dinner for her mother and walked off down the street with Selby following close behind.

‘I’d love to just go up and talk to her,’ he thought, ‘but I don’t dare. I’d frighten her to death. I love everything about her — the way she walks, the way she runs her fingers
through her hair. I’ve got to know more about her.’

Selby followed Deirdre to her house and peered through the window. Inside she kissed an old woman on the forehead and then set about making the evening meal.

‘No wonder she understood so much about “Don’t Know What To Do’s” problem,’ Selby thought. ‘She looks after her mum too. I’ll bet she doesn’t have a boyfriend. Oh how I wish I could be her boyfriend.’

After a while the old woman went to bed and Deirdre sat watching TV. Selby went home that night and lay on his mat unable to sleep because of thoughts of Deirdre.

‘I love her,’ he said to himself. ‘But she can never love me because I’m a dog. I mean the Trifles love me but that’s different. Oh, woe, this is almost the worst problem anyone ever had! There’s no answer to it! I’ll just have to try to forget her. I wish I’d never started reading “Dear Deirdre”. Now hang on! That could be the answer! Maybe
she
can solve my problem!’

Selby dashed to the Trifles’ computer and wrote an email:

Selby had to wait a week for Deirdre’s answer:

‘Like acid eats through steel,’ Selby read aloud. ‘Now that’s poetry. But hang on, what if she knew that I’m a dog?, — a talking dog, but still a dog. I wonder if she’d say that I should go up to her and tell her that I love her. I should have said that in my email. But if I came right
out with it she’d have thought I was a nutcase and wouldn’t have published my email. I’ll write to her again.’

Once again Selby waited to read ‘Dear Deirdre’ but this time, just as the
Bogusville Banner
was delivered, Aunt Jetty dashed in the door and snatched it so that she could read Jock Bashem’s column.

‘What a man!’ she said to her sister when she’d finished. ‘Not like that pathetic woman who writes “Dear Deirdre”. Do you read that column?’

‘No, I’m afraid I don’t,’ Mrs Trifle said.

‘Listen to this,’ Aunt Jetty said. ‘There’s this bloke who calls himself Hopelessly in Love. He hasn’t even got the guts to tell this woman that he loves her. What a wimp! Listen to what Deirdre says:’

‘That makes me want to puke,’ Aunt Jetty laughed.‘Lock into an orbit around one another till the end of time! What a scream! She’s as stupid as he is hopeless!’

‘Oh I wish she hadn’t read it in that voice of hers,’ Selby thought. ‘But I mustn’t think about Aunt Jetty. Dear Deirdre is right — I just have to go up to her and tell her! I know she’ll forgive me for being a dog. I’ve got to grab her and plant a big juicy kiss on her lips. Oh, how I want to lock into an orbit around Deirdre!’

*  *  *

It was an anxious dog who waited outside the
Bogusville Banner
office till the reporters came out. Once again they talked for a moment but, this time, they all — including Deirdre — went into The Spicy Onion. Selby waited for an hour and then two.

‘I can’t wait any longer,’ he thought. ‘I’ve got to go in and tell her. I don’t care if she knows that I’m the only talking dog in Australia and, perhaps, the world, as long as she knows that I love her.’

Selby crept into the restaurant and hid behind a curtain, listening to the reporters and waiting for the right moment to talk to Deirdre.

‘Here goes,’ Selby thought, stepping out from behind the curtain.

The reporters stopped talking and turned and looked at him.

‘Hey! There’s that stupid dog that came to the office the other day,’ the big cigar-chomping man said.‘Get out of here, you!’

Selby was about to say, ‘Deirdre, darling, I’m a dog but I love you!’ and throw his paws around her and plant a big juicy kiss on her lips when suddenly there was a noise behind him. It was Aunt Jetty racing across the restaurant.

‘Jock, darling,’ she cried, grabbing the big man and planting a big juicy kiss on his lips. ‘I love you! We are like two lost stars alone in the heavens. Let us lock into an orbit around one another till the end of time.’

Everyone stood stock still, staring in shocked silence at Aunt Jetty.

‘I-I’m afraid there’s been a big mistake,’ the man said, drawing back.‘I’m not Jock.’

‘He’s not Jock?’ Selby thought.

‘You’re not Jock?’Aunt Jetty said.

‘No, that’s Jock Bashem over there,’ he said, pointing to the woman.

Aunt Jetty looked over at the short, plump woman with dark hair.

‘You?’Aunt Jetty said.‘But you’re a woman!’

‘So what?’ the woman said. ‘Can’t a woman write a sports column? You want to make something of it? Step a little closer, sister, and I’ll knock your ugly block off.’

‘B-But Jock is a man’s name,’ Aunt Jetty stammered.

‘We make up names to protect ourselves from idiots like you,’ the woman said, turning to the big man.‘Isn’t that right, Deirdre?’

‘You’re Deirdre?
Dear
Deirdre?’ Aunt Jetty said.

‘Oh, no!’ Selby thought. ‘It can’t be! I thought that she was him and he was her! Now everybody is somebody else and I’m not even sure who I am any more! This is a tragedy! Oh, woe woe woe.’

‘Yes, I’m Deirdre,’ the big man said, smiling at Aunt Jetty.‘From what you said about locking into orbit, I gather you read my column, too.’

‘Oh, yes,’ Aunt Jetty said, breaking out into a smile.‘I’m your biggest fan.’

‘Are you really?’

‘Yes, I am, and do you know something else?’

‘Tell me,’ the big man said, smiling back at Aunt Jetty.

‘I like a man who smokes cigars,’ she said. ‘I smoke a few myself. I think I could lock into orbit around a good-looking guy like you.’