Authors: Duncan Ball
Selby Sorcerer (9 page)
(
Continued from the previous chapter
)
The TV program had just started when Selby heard a terrible row in the front yard. He opened the door to see Aunt Jetty snapping and growling at Dr and Mrs Trifle. Nearby were Willy and Billy.
‘Stop it, you!’ Selby yelled. ‘Get out of it! Hey! Shoo!’
Aunt Jetty bared her teeth and growled. Willy and Billy did the same.
‘Steady on,’ Selby said, as he backed towards the door. ‘Don’t you dare bite me.’
Dr and Mrs Trifle ran into the house. Just then Aunt Jetty and her boys lunged at Selby and he shot into the house, slamming the door behind him.
‘They could have killed me!’ Selby panted.
‘I’ll fix them.’
Selby grabbed the phone and rang the police station.
‘Is that you, Biff?’ he said.
‘Oh, so it’s you, Mr Mayor. Now what can I do for you?’
‘I’ve got a problem,’ Selby said. ‘There are three stray people in my front yard.’
‘This town is full of stray people,’ the police dog said. ‘Not much I can do about it if we don’t have a leash law.’
‘Okay, so I was wrong,’ Selby said. ‘You’ve got to help me.’
‘Well, I’d like to help,’ the police dog said, ‘but I guess we’ll just have to wait for the next open council meeting in June. Then you can give another one of those fancy speeches and see if the dogs will go for the leash laws.’
Selby looked out at Aunt Jetty and her sons who were now ripping out Mrs Trifle’s new plants.
‘But they’re destroying my yard,’ Selby said. ‘And they attacked me.’
‘Have you tried ringing their owners?’
‘They don’t have an owner ever since Crusher died.’
‘Poor old Crush,’ the police dog said. ‘He was a great bloke.’
‘Aunt Jetty just ripped out my mailbox! She’s destroying my property,’ Selby said. ‘Can’t you get the dog — I mean,
people
— catcher over here?’
‘You could do that yourself, Mr Mayor. The only problem is that we don’t have a people-catcher. You sacked him in your last cutbacks.’
‘I did that?’
As Willy and Billy were beating the Trifles’
car with their wizard clubs, Selby quickly said goodbye to the police dog and rang the council office.
‘This is Mayor Trifle here — Mayor
Selby
Trifle. Who’s this?’
‘It’s Fifi, sir,’ the voice said.
‘Okay, Fifi. Listen up and listen good. I want you to ring the people-catcher and tell him that he’s hired again. Then send him over here. I’ve got people problems.’
‘You’re wasting your time,’ Fifi said. ‘He won’t come back. He was angry because of all the other people you sacked.’
‘This is ridiculous!’ Selby said. ‘I’m the mayor and I’m the boss. Ring everyone and tell them they’ve got their jobs back.’
‘But we don’t have enough money to pay them. That’s why you let them go.’
‘Listen, Feef,’ Selby said. ‘Get some more money. Raise the rates. Put up “No Parking” signs everywhere and give people parking tickets. Sell the school. Do whatever it takes.’
‘Yes, sir!’ Fifi said. ‘By the way, I need to take tomorrow off because my boyfriend is going away and —’
‘No time off,’ Selby said. ‘And ring me when there’s some money. Goodbye.’
Click.
‘Time off,’ Selby thought. ‘If I give her time off then everyone’s going to want time off. I had no idea being the top dog was going to be this tricky. Oh, well, now to watch some more of
Roxanna the Sorcerer.
‘
Brrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiing.
This time someone asked him if he would give a talk to all the puppies at the Bogusville Primary School library.
‘I’d love to,’ Selby said. ‘That sounds like fun.’
And would he judge a fashion show at the Bogusville Bijou Theatre?
‘Sure, okay,’ Selby said.
And would he give the speech at the Flower Show?
‘Oh, I guess so,’ Selby sighed.
And would he lead the volunteers in picking up the rubbish along Bogusville Creek?
‘I’d love to,’ Selby said. ‘But I have a bit of a bad back.’
‘The TV cameras will be there to show how the mayor isn’t afraid to get his paws dirty,’ he
was told. ‘Of course if you don’t want to get reelected …’
‘Oh, all right,’ Selby said.
The next day, Selby came home from the council exhausted. Everyone had been angry. He’d had to have the “No Parking” signs taken down and the “For Sale” sign removed from the school.
‘Can’t we just have a sausage sizzle and raise the money to run the council that way?’ he’d asked.
‘That’s a good idea,’ Fifi answered. ‘If we can sell ten thousand of them for one hundred dollars each it should get us through the next month.’
‘How did Mrs Trifle ever do this job?’ he asked.
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Never mind.’
Selby came home that day with folders of papers to read and things to sign under his arms. And when he went into the lounge room to watch TV, he found the letters he’d opened
the day before spread all around the floor and thoroughly chewed.
‘Oh, Dr and Mrs Trifle,’ he sighed, as the two people lay on the carpet looking up at him. ‘I do love you. I know you love me too. So why did you have to do this to me?’
Selby started gathering up the bits and pieces of paper.
‘Bills, bills, bills,’ he said. ‘I guess I’ve got to pay them or something. Where’s that chequebook the Trifles used to use? Now where is it? I wonder how it works.’
Day after day, Selby went to the council and came back exhausted, only to have to pay bills and write letters and answer the telephone. And when he wasn’t doing that he was mowing the lawn or getting the car fixed or painting the house or cleaning the leaves out of the swimming pool.
One evening he was blobbing in front of the TV again. He’d watched
Roxanna
but at the end he couldn’t remember what it had been about. He looked over at the Trifles, lying next to one another by the heater.
‘I don’t want to be the boss anymore,’ he
said. ‘You guys have it so good when all I do is work, work, work. Why can’t I be a pet again?’
Selby was about to turn off the TV and go to bed when suddenly he saw that face — the face of the dog-genius.
‘In tonight’s program,’ the announcer said, ‘we will be speaking to Professor Barking about parallel universes. Tell us, Professor, what is a parallel universe?’
Selby took his paw off the TV controls.
‘It’s a whole other universe,’ the dog-genius said, ‘with space and time and maybe even worlds filled with green slime and two-headed monsters.’
‘Does such a thing really exist?’
‘Yes, I think so. I believe there are lots and lots of parallel universes and that some of them are right here around us but we can’t get to them or even see into them. And they can’t see into our universe. There might even be one that’s exactly like ours. Two dogs might be sitting here having this exact same discussion.’
‘Is this possible?’
‘Absolutely,’ the wise dog said. ‘Think of our universe as being just one bubble on an
infinitely long string with lots of bubbles on it. All these bubbles — these universes — wobble through the eleventh dimension fluctuating in a sea of nothing.’
‘A sea of nothing,’ Selby thought. ‘Bubbles on strings. I love to listen to this stuff. I can’t understand a word of it but I just love to let the words pour over me. It’s like listening to a beautiful poem.’
‘The things that interest me,’ the professor said, ‘is that there may be a parallel universe just like ours — only slightly different.’
‘Slightly different? In what way?’
‘Well, the beings having our conversation might not be dogs. They might be human beings, for example.’
>‘Humans actually talking?!’ the announcer laughed. ‘That’s amazing!’
As the wise dog talked, Selby’s jaw dropped.
‘That’s it!’ Selby cried, waking up the Trifles. ‘I’m in a parallel universe! This isn’t the universe I used to be in at all! But how did I get here?’
Selby thought as hard as he’d ever thought before. He thought back to being in the
workroom. Dr Trifle was out and Selby had hopped up on the workbench to look at the Potato Peel Replacer.
‘Hmmm,’ he remembered hmmming, ‘I wonder if it’s ready to work now?’
Selby had picked up a peeled potato and put it into the PPR. Then, before he could pull his hand out, he’d accidentally hit the ON switch.
‘Yowch!’ he had cried.
The next thing Selby knew he was on the telephone to Hamish …
‘I’ve got to see Dr Barking!’ Selby shouted. ‘Come on, Dr and Mrs Trifle, into the car. We have work to do.’
Selby drove and drove and drove, through the night and then through half the next day till he finally reached the university. He opened the boot of the car and took out the PPR.
‘Follow me,’ he said to the Trifles.
In a minute, Selby was placing the machine onto a low bench in a laboratory. A surprised Professor Barking put down the sandwich he was eating and wheeled his wheelchair around to have a better look at it.>
‘Who are you and what in heaven’s name is that?’ the dog-genius asked, wheeling his wheelchair over to Selby.
‘My name is Selby and that’s a PPR,’ Selby said. ‘A Potato Peel Replacer.’
‘A Potato Peel Replacer? What a ridiculous invention. What does it do?’
‘Do you know when you peel too many potatoes and then you wish you hadn’t? Never mind. Let me tell you what happened to me about a month ago.’
As Selby talked, he saw a smile come to the professor’s lips. In no time at all the wise dog was grinning from ear to ear.
>‘Ahah!’ the professor said, finally. ‘You flipped. That’s what you did.’
‘You bet I did,’ Selby said. ‘I thought I’d gone bonkers.’
‘No,’ the professor said. ‘You flipped out of your universe and into ours. And this PPR is what flipped you. It’s hard to believe that it was invented by a
person
,’ the professor said, looking over at Dr Trifle who was eating the sandwich from the professor’s desk. ‘He got the shape of the chamber just right. Then you put your paw
in it and turned the thing on causing gammaray bursters to make a hole in the membrane of your universe which flipped you into ours.’
Selby nodded.
‘You see, according to M-Theory,’ the professor went on, ‘there are ten dimensions of space and one of time. The universe you were in is probably the quantum parallel one to ours, maybe the next higher vibration on the super-string.’
Selby nodded again.
‘Do you understand the implications of this?’ the professor said excitedly. ‘It means that Plank energy could be a constant in hyper-universes?’
Selby nodded and then shook his head.
>‘You don’t? Then why did you nod?’
‘Because I didn’t want you to think I was stupid,’ Selby explained. ‘Oh, woe, right now I just want to go back to my universe.’
‘Don’t you like it here?’
‘No. I just want to be a pet again.’
‘But you weren’t just a pet. You said that you were the only talking dog in a place called Australia and, perhaps, the world. If you were the only talking, feeling, thinking dog then
maybe you didn’t belong there either. Maybe you’d already been flipped before.’
‘Professor Barking,’ Selby said, ‘I just want to go home. To Bogusville. To the Trifles. I want them to be the bosses again.’
‘Have you tried putting a potato in the PPR and then putting in your paw and turning it on again?’
‘You mean it might be that easy?’
‘It’s worth a try.’
‘Why didn’t I think of that?’ Selby said. ‘Oh, Professor, thank you so much.’
Selby peeled a potato he’d brought with him and put it in the chamber of the machine. Then he put his paw in it and held his breath as the professor turned on the machine.
No one moved for the longest time.
‘It didn’t work,’ the professor said, finally. ‘Nothing happened.’
Dr Trifle looked down at the peeled potato in the chamber.
‘That’s strange,’ he said. ‘I’m sure it worked before.’
‘Yes, I thought it did, too,’ Mrs Trifle agreed.
‘I guess I’ll have to throw it out,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time.’
The professor wheeled over to Selby and gave him a pat.
‘Don’t even think about it,’ the professor said. ‘It’s always interesting to see new inventions — especially ones that are as different as your PPR. It was lovely to meet you — and you, too, Selby,’ he said, giving Selby a secret wink.
Selby looked back and it was all he could do to keep from saying, ‘Thank goodness, I’m home again.’
This really is
The End
‘Fetch, Selby, fetch!’ Dr Trifle said, throwing a stick as far as he could. ‘Get it, boy!’
‘Not on your life,’ Selby thought as he stared at the stick on the other side of the lawn. ‘What do you take me for, a stick-chasing machine?’
Dr Trifle threw another stick.
‘Why do people do this?’ Selby wondered. ‘I reckon if they want the sticks they shouldn’t throw them away in the first place.’
‘Go get it, Selby,’ Dr Trifle said, pointing to the stick. ‘Okay, I’ll throw you another one but I won’t throw it so far this time.’
‘I don’t think you’ll ever teach him to chase sticks,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Selby just isn’t into stick-chasing.’
‘Have you ever thought of why he doesn’t like to chase sticks?’
‘Maybe he just doesn’t want to.’
‘Or maybe he can’t see them properly,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘You think I’m just playing a silly game. But I’m actually testing his eyes.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Think of all the people who need to wear glasses — like me,’ Dr Trifle said, taking his off for a moment. ‘When I take them off, everything’s blurry. You may not need to wear glasses but I certainly do.’
‘So?’
‘So animals have eyes too. And I’ll bet that lots of them can’t see properly without glasses.’
‘You might be right,’ Mrs Trifle said, ‘but how can you test an animal’s eyes? When they test people’s eyes they ask questions like, “Is this clearer?” and things like that. You can ask Selby questions all day long but he’s not going to answer you.’
‘That’s for sure,’ Selby thought.
‘I found a way around the asking questions thing,’ Dr Trifle said, tipping a box full of glasses out on the lawn.
‘Where did you get these from?’ Mrs Trifle said, picking up a pair and putting them on.
‘They’re some of my old ones and the rest I picked up at the used clothing shop.’
‘Goodness,’ Mrs Trifle said, taking off the glasses and rubbing her eyes. ‘Now I can’t see! The whole world has turned fuzzy!’
‘It’s just a touch of TOG fog.’
‘Tog fog? I’ve never heard of tog fog.’
‘T-O-G fog.
Trying On Glasses
fog. It’s that blurriness you get from trying on the wrong glasses — or trying them on when you don’t need them. It’ll go away in a minute or two.’
‘So how will these glasses tell you about Selby’s eyes?’
‘Easy. I try out different pairs on him and throw sticks. When he finally chases after one I’ll know I’ve got the right ones. Watch.’
Dr Trifle picked up a pair of glasses and put them on Selby.
‘Oh, great,’ Selby thought. ‘Now I can’t see anything.’
‘Okay, boy,’ Dr Trifle said, throwing another stick. ‘Fetch!’
‘Yeah, right,’ Selby thought. ‘And if I do I’ll have to wear these silly things for the rest of my life.’
Half an hour and a dozen pairs of glasses later, Dr Trifle finally stopped.
‘I give up,’ he sighed. ‘No more glasses-trying-on. I’ve had it. Finished. Never again. It’s a pity because you probably need glasses, Selby. If you didn’t, you’d chase sticks like normal dogs. But I don’t think I’ll ever find the right ones for you.’
‘I wish you could find something for the headache all those glasses gave me,’ Selby thought as he stumbled into the house. ‘I can hardly see because of the TOG fog.’
Selby lay on the carpet rubbing his eyes as Dr Trifle put away the box of glasses.
That evening Selby was alone. He was just waiting for
Roxanna the Sorcerer
to come on TV when he looked up at the box of glasses on a shelf above him.
‘There is something nice about glasses,’ he thought. ‘They make people look interesting — and smart.’
Selby climbed up on the back of the lounge. He stretched slowly upwards towards the box. On his tiptoes he could barely touch it with his paw.
‘I’ll just flick it and then catch it when it falls,’ he thought.
Selby flicked the box off the shelf but didn’t manage to catch it. In a split second, Selby was lying on his back on the lounge with the glasses scattered all around.
‘Ouch!’ he cried, moving his limbs slowly to make sure everything was okay. ‘I’m lucky I hit the lounge and not the floor.’
Selby grabbed a pair of glasses and put them on. From the lounge, he could see himself in a nearby mirror.
‘Not bad,’ he thought as he squinted through the blur. ‘Now there’s an interesting dog. Probably very intelligent. I think I’d like to know that dog. But these frames have got to go.’
Selby tried on another pair and then another. He even tried on a bright orange pair that had butterflies in the corners.
‘Wow!’ he giggled. ‘Now that’s what I call
spectacles.
Well, they certainly are a spectacle anyway.’
Selby rubbed his eyes to get rid of the TOG fog and then put on another pair. He stood there for a while trying to imagine what someone would think if they saw him walking down the street wearing these glasses.
‘"Now there’s an interesting dog,” they would say. “Very sophisticated. Intelligent. Sort
of a dog-about-town. Why, I think I could even carry on a conversation with him in plain English."’
Selby had a bit of a chuckle and was about to take the glasses off and put them away when he looked around at the room.
‘Hey, these ones actually work,’ he said. ‘They make everything clearer than ever. But wait a minute. Gulp. This means I need to wear glasses
— these
glasses.’
Selby paced around the room, glancing at himself in the mirror.
‘What am I going to do? How am I going to let Dr Trifle know that I need glasses after all? Why didn’t he try these ones on me when he was doing his glasses-trying-on thing? I think they’re the only pair he
didn’t
try. I could have chased a stick and he’d have known they were the right ones. How am I going to get him to do it again?’
Selby had begun to put the scattered glasses back in the box when he realised that
Roxanna
had already started. He lay on the lounge watching the show. It had just finished when he heard the sound of the front door opening.
‘They’re back!’ he thought, as he hit the remote control to OFF. Then he quickly lay down and closed his eyes.
‘What’s this?!’ Mrs Trifle cried. ‘Look at Selby! He’s wearing glasses!’
‘So he is,’ Dr Trifle said, coming closer.
‘But he’s a dog!’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘A dog wearing glasses. Am I seeing what I think I’m seeing?’
‘Yes, I think you are because I’m seeing it too.’
‘But if he’s wearing glasses …’ Mrs Trifle started. ‘If he’s wearing glasses …’ she started again. ‘What does that say about Selby?’
‘My question exactly,’ Dr Trifle said.
‘Oh, woe,’ Selby thought. ‘I guess I’m going to have to tell them what happened. I’ll have to tell them everything about myself. It will change my life forever but at least I’ll get to wear these glasses from now on.’
Selby opened his eyes and sat up. He was about to speak when suddenly Dr Trifle burst into laughter.
‘Don’t tell me,’ he said, ‘because I know everything.’
‘You what?’ Selby thought (he didn’t say it, he only thought it).
‘You what?’ Mrs Trifle said.
‘Yes, don’t you see what happened? The box of glasses must have fallen off that shelf. Look, they’re all over the place. And a pair must have landed squarely on Selby! What a riot!’
Mrs Trifle took the glasses off Selby and looked at them.
‘Hey, I remember these,’ she said, putting them on. ‘They were the ones I wore when I played the librarian in that play
Murder Overdue
with the Bogusville Stage Stompers last year, remember? They’re not real glasses at all — they have clear glass in them. They don’t do anything.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘Now I remember them.’
Selby blinked and looked around him. It’s true, the room was just as clear as it had been when he had the glasses on.
‘It must have been the TOG fog that confused me,’ he thought.
‘It’s a pity,’ Mrs Trifle said, giving Selby a pat, ‘because there was something different about
Selby when he had the glasses on. I know it sounds silly but somehow he looked sophisticated — and intelligent. But I think I like him better just the way he is — just normal old Selby.’
‘And I think I like me best this way too,’ Selby thought.