Selby Sorcerer (8 page)

Minutes later Mrs Trifle came into the lounge room again. ‘Selby, you’re in the house.’

‘I’ve found the tissues,’ Dr Trifle said, coming into the room. ‘Goodness, here’s Selby.’

‘I don’t think I need the tissues anymore,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘My allergy seems to have gone away.’

‘Mine, too. I guess we couldn’t have been allergic to Selby after all.’

‘That’s right,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Now where’s Madame Mascara’s note?’

‘I don’t know,’ Dr Trifle said, looking around. ‘It seems to have vanished into thin air. Oh, well, I don’t think it was important. She just seemed to want to apologise for being so pushy.’

‘And, no doubt, for being so wrong about poor old Selby,’ Mrs Trifle said, cuddling him. ‘Hmmm, I wonder how his paws got so wet.’

‘That’s strange,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘It hasn’t been raining. Hmmm, it’s almost as if he’s washed them himself. Can you imagine that?’

‘I can imagine that,’ thought Selby. ‘But there are a lot of things about me that you could never imagine!’

Something very strange and terrible had happened and Selby didn’t know why. All he knew was that his mind was numb and his fur had gone a bit curly at the ends. He couldn’t remember what had happened earlier that day. In fact he couldn’t even remember what had happened only minutes before.

That’s when the telephone rang and Selby, without thinking, picked it up and said, ‘Hello.’

Even before the ‘o’ part of ‘Hello’ was out of his mouth the shock hit him.

‘Oh, no! I’ve given away my secret!’ he thought. ‘Why did I do that? But wait. No one can see me so they don’t know it’s me.’

Selby was about to put the phone down when the voice at the other end said, ‘Is that you, Selby?’

‘Gulp,’ Selby gulped. ‘He knows who I am! He’s watching me!’

Selby looked around.

‘He can’t be watching me,’ Selby thought. ‘There’s no one here but me.’

Selby’s brain started slowly to unnumb. He remembered the TV program he’d been watching only minutes before. There was a dog reading the news. At first Selby thought it had been a new comedy program but there was nothing funny about it. There was a war. There were farmers struggling against a drought, a huge bushfire, and a story about a famous dog in a wheelchair talking about parallel universes.

‘Hey, hold the show,’ Selby had thought. ‘Everyone on the news is … is a
dog!
There are soldier dogs, farmer dogs, dogs whose houses burnt down, and a dog-genius.’

That was when the phone had rung …

‘Selby? Can you hear me?’ the voice said. ‘Are you there?’

Selby stood there not knowing what to say.

‘Trifle residence, Dr Trifle speaking,’ he said, suddenly sliding into his Dr Trifle voice.

‘This is no time for jokes, Selby,’ the voice answered.

‘There’s only one person who knows the real sound of my voice,’ Selby thought.

‘Duncan?’ he said. ‘It’s you, isn’t it?’

‘Duncan?’ the voice asked. ‘Who’s Duncan?’

‘Of course it can’t be Duncan,’ Selby thought. ‘He doesn’t know the Trifles’ telephone number. He doesn’t even know where I live. In fact, this guy just called me
Selby
— my real name. Duncan doesn’t know my real name. He thinks it’s
Selby
because that’s what I always tell him.’

‘Who is this speaking?’ Selby asked finally.

‘It’s Hamish.’

‘Hamish?’ Selby thought. ‘The only Hamish I know is that dopey sheepdog in the house behind here. It can’t possibly be him.’

‘Have you forgotten the emergency meeting of the council?’ Hamish asked.

‘Council? Emergency meeting?’ Selby asked.

‘We’re about to vote on that new leash law. You should be here. You are the mayor, after all.’

‘I’m not the mayor. Mrs Trifle is.’

‘Selby, this is serious. We’re waiting. Hop in your car and get yourself down here. We need a decision straight-away.’

Click.

Selby sat there in a daze. What was happening? Who is Hamish? How could anyone ever think that
he
was the mayor of Bogusville?

‘Me
drive a car?’ Selby said aloud. ‘Did he tell me to
drive
there? Is this a dream?’

Selby found himself opening the front door. Outside Dr and Mrs Trifle were sitting under a tree. When they saw him they jumped to their feet and came running. They jumped back and forth in front of Selby with their tongues hanging out.

‘They’re making fun of me,’ Selby thought. ‘No, hang on. They’re rehearsing for a play. It’s one of those plays where they have to pretend to be dogs.’

Selby started walking towards the street but Mrs Trifle blocked his path. She dropped to her knees and started licking his face.

‘Stop it!’ Selby said out loud.

‘Oh, no! I talked again!’ Selby thought. ‘I couldn’t help it. And this time they actually saw me talking!’

The Trifles stopped jumping about and looked at him.

‘Okay, it’s true,’ Selby sighed. ‘I never ever in a million years thought it would happen like this. For years I’ve kept it a secret and then you pretend to be dogs and,
ooops
out it comes.’

Dr and Mrs Trifle frowned and tipped their heads from side to side.

‘As you can hear,’ Selby said, ‘I can talk. Don’t ask me how it happened because I really don’t understand it myself. You’re shocked, aren’t you?’

Dr Trifle looked at Selby.

‘
Woof
he said.

‘You can stop rehearsing now,’ Selby said.

‘Woof!
Woof! Woof!
Mrs Trifle barked, wiggling her bottom back and forth. ‘Woof! Woof!’

‘You’re not kidding,’ Selby said. ‘You really think you’re dogs! Have I gone completely bonkers?’

Somewhere in the back of Selby’s mind and slowly making its way forward was Dr Trifle’s PPR — his Potato Peel Replacer. He remembered the strange invention sitting on the floor of the workroom. And he remembered leaning over to look down into it.

But that’s all he could remember. Suddenly he snapped back to the present.

‘If I’m the mayor of Bogusville,’ he thought, ‘I’d better get down to the Council Chambers. I wonder if I
can
drive a car.’

Selby opened the car door and Dr and Mrs Trifle jumped in.

‘No, get out,’ Selby said. ‘Come on, out! Okay, suit yourself,’ Selby said, starting the car and backing out of the driveway. ‘Hey! I’m actually driving a car!’

Selby tore along the streets of Bogusville to the Council Chambers. He opened the door to get out but Dr and Mrs Trifle jumped over him and were on the footpath before him.

Inside, seated at a long table, was Hamish the sheepdog along with a number of other dogs that he’d seen around Bogusville. The chairs in
the audience were filled with dogs all chattering away in plain English.

‘Thank goodness you’re here,’ Hamish said to Selby. ‘Things are getting very heated.’

‘But — but, it
is
you!’ Selby said. ‘And you’re a talking dog, too. Have you known how to talk all along and been keeping it a secret?’

Hamish just looked at Selby.

‘Mr Mayor, will you please be serious?’ Hamish said.

‘But I have to talk to you about something important.’

‘Later. We have to talk about this leash law first.’

‘Leash law?’ Selby said. ‘Is this making us keep our pets, I mean, our
people,
on leashes all the time the way they do in the city?’

‘That’s right!’ a voice from the front row of the audience boomed. ‘We need a leash law!’

‘And who are you?’ Selby asked.

‘You know perfectly well who I am, Mr Mayor,’ the dog said. ‘I’m Biff, the Chief of Police.’

‘But what about Sergeant Short and Constable Long?’ Selby said.

‘Don’t you worry about them,’ Biff said. ‘I keep them on leashes whenever I take them out of the police station. And when they do their business, I clean up after them.’

‘But that’s crazy,’ Selby said. ‘I just roam around on my own and do my business wherever I want.’

The hall burst into laughter. All the dogs were laughing and pointing at Selby.

‘What’s so funny?’

Hamish leant over and whispered in Selby’s ear.

‘I think you meant to say that your
people
do their business wherever they want,’ he said. ‘You said that
you
did.’

‘Mr Mayor,’ Biff said, ‘if we could be serious for a moment, I’d just like to say that we need a leash law in this town and we need it now!’

The whole audience burst into applause.

‘Now hang on,’ Selby said. ‘I’m the mayor of this town and I’m against a leash law.’

‘And look at your people!’ Biff said, pointing to Dr and Mrs Trifle who were running back and forth at the front of the hall. ‘They’re out of control.’

‘They are not! Dr Trifle! Mrs Trifle! Stop!’ Selby said, pointing to the Trifles. The two of them stopped and looked up at Selby. ‘Now sit,’ Selby added quietly. And the Trifles sat. ‘You see?’ he said. ‘You don’t need a leash to control a person. I mean do we love our … our people? Of course we do. Do we want to keep them in prison? No, of course we don’t.’

Selby let his voice rise and fall as he spoke. He could feel the excitement of having everyone’s attention. On and on he spoke about freedom, about the rights of the person, about not picking up poo.

‘So to conclude,’ he said. ‘Do we want our people to enjoy the freedom that we have? Or do we want them to be our slaves? I rest my case.’

There was a roar of applause from everyone except the Chief of Police.

‘Now if any of you are still silly enough to want this leash law,’ Selby said. ‘Go ahead, raise your hand — I mean paw.’

A few paws went up slowly but then came down. Everyone’s except Biff’s.

‘The law is defeated,’ Selby said. ‘Meeting dismissed.’

‘That was a great speech,’ Hamish said later. ‘Now what was it you wanted to talk to me about?’

‘I’m not sure how to say this,’ Selby said. ‘But this morning I was a pet.’

‘A
pet?
You’re a dog not a pet. The Trifles are your pets. They’re human beings.’

‘But I’m pretty sure it used to be the other way around,’ Selby said.

‘Listen, Selby, I know you’ve been under a lot of pressure,’ Hamish said, ‘but now you’ve completely flipped.’

Selby drove the Trifles home. He reached for the Dry-Mouth Dog Biscuits but then stopped.

‘You don’t want this rubbish,’ he said to the Trifles. ‘Let’s get you some yummy food. I’m in charge now. I can do anything I want.’

Selby rang The Spicy Onion Restaurant and ordered peanut prawns.

‘Shall we put this on your account, Mr Mayor?’ the voice on the other end of the phone said.

‘On my account? Yes. And send them over as soon as possible,’ Selby said. ‘I’m starving.’

Within minutes the delivery-dog from
The Spicy Onion Restaurant was there with the prawns.

‘Go for your lives,’ Selby said, filling the Trifles’ bowl.

Dr and Mrs Trifle bent down and sniffed the prawns and then looked up at Selby.

‘Don’t tell me you don’t like them,’ Selby said. ‘Come on, they’re delicious. At least lick one.’

But it was no use. Selby tipped the prawns out and filled the bowl with Dry-Mouth Dog Biscuits.

‘So you like those awful things,’ he said. ‘Well, I guess I get to eat all the prawns.’

Selby let the Trifles out and then turned on the TV to see
Roxanna the Sorcerer.

‘Now I can just take it easy,’ he thought. ‘I don’t have to worry about getting sprung or anything. I don’t know how it happened but I love it! I’m the boss! I’m the mayor of Bogusville! I can do anything I want! I’m the king!’

The End

Author’s note: Actually it isn’t really the end.

The story continues in the next chapter.