Selby Screams (8 page)

“Owwwwww!” the figure howled, the moon glistening on its slimy surface.

“I m-may not
know
what the l-logical explanation is,” Selby said, struggling against some weeds that were wrapped around his foot, “but I’m s-sure there is one.”

“Owwwwww!” the figure screamed again and Selby saw the glistening face, twisted with pain.

“I th-think I may just t-trot along home,” Selby thought as he madly bit at the weeds, “and m-make an early n-night of it.”

Selby tore himself free and darted through the old gate, only to see the hulking figure throw itself over the high wall and land on the roadway behind him.

“Owwwwww!” it howled again and its feet squished along the wet road."Owwwwww!”

“M-m-maybe if I really th-think hard,” Selby thought as he hobbled away, just ahead of the slimy figure, “I’ll come up with the l-logical explanation for this.”

“Owwwwwwwwwwwww!” the creature howled again.

“Crumbs! And d-double crumbs!” Selby mumbled as he sped up only to find the figure so close behind that each swish of his tail touched its knees. “I w-wish I could get my leg w-working properly.”

A light rain began to fall as the figure lurched along, each step bringing it closer to the panting Selby.

“I’m
(pant
) thinking
(pant
) as logically as I can,” Selby thought as he struggled along Bunya-Bunya Crescent and then turned into the Trifles’ driveway, “but the only
(pant)
thing I can think of is that this
(pant)
slimy beast is after the blood of its next victim —
(gulp)
my blood! Oh, no! Someone’s closed the door!
(pant)
How am I going to
(pant)
get away from him! I can feel his breath on my back! I’ve got to get in the house!”

Selby took a running leap, throwing himself against the door, and he bounced off straight into a pair of slimy hands that clutched him tight around the middle.

“This is it! I’m a done dog!” Selby thought. “I’ve got to call the Trifles! My secret doesn’t matter now!”

Suddenly the front door flew open and the horrified Trifles stood stock still staring at the dark figure.

“Help! Save me from the slimy beast!” were the words on the tip of Selby’s tongue when all at once a smile spread across Mrs Trifle’s face.

“Postie!” she cried as she watched the mud streak down his soggy clothing. “It’s you! What happened?”

“I’m afraid I took longer to clean the mud out of that drain than I expected,” he said with a gasp. “And then I fell right into it and hurt my leg. Owwwwww!”

“Let’s have a look at it,” Dr Trifle, who knew nothing about hurt legs, said.

“It’ll be okay. It’s just a bit painful. You’d better have a look at Selby here. I think he
does
have a hurt leg,” Postie said, handing Selby to Dr Trifle. “I’d better go home and get cleaned up.”

“Didn’t I tell you there’s a logical explanation for everything?” Dr Trifle said
when the postman had gone. “I’m sure we’d all be better off if we thought logically.”

“I’m sure we would, dear,” Mrs Trifle said, looking at Selby’s leg and finding nothing wrong with it.

“Logical, schmogical,” Selby thought as he heard the music that ended Tim Trembly’s
Tales of Terror.
“One more second and you’d have heard a dog screaming for help in plain English. I’d like to see you explain that one logically.”

“I wish people would be more helpful,” Mrs Trifle said with a sigh. “I asked the people of Bogusville for ideas on how to keep the town’s expenses down and no one gave any. No one cares. What’s worse, there’s been a rash of stealing.”

“What’s gone missing?” Dr Trifle asked, as he poured some liquid into a bottle.

“Light globes,” Mrs Trifle said. “They’re being taken from streetlights and even from the council chambers.”

“This could be the answer,” Dr Trifle said, swirling the funny-smelling chemical around. “It’s a new invention of mine called
Blabbo.
“

“If Blabbo is the answer,” Mrs Trifle said. “What is the question?”

“You don’t understand. My Blabbo is really the not-very-well-known chemical, di-ethyl-tri-beryl-poly-wanna-kraka.”

“All that in a little jar?”

“It’s a new kind of truth serum.”

“Truth serum?” thought Selby, who was nibbling a Dry-Mouth Dog Biscuit. “Dr Trifle’s gone bonkers this time.”

“You mean people drink that and they have to tell the truth?”

“Exactly. When the police catch a suspect, all they have to do is give him — or her,” the doctor added to be polite, “one sip and he — or she — won’t be able to lie to save their lives. It lasts for about an hour and then wears off.”

“Have you taken some yourself?”

“I would have taken some myself but I only ever tell the truth anyway. So it wouldn’t be much good, would it?” Dr Trifle said, blushing from ear to ear. “I’m sure it’ll work. I’ve given some to the police to use on their next suspect.”

Suddenly the telephone rang.

Mrs Trifle picked it up. “Yes? Yes? Yes? No. Yes. No!” she said, the way people do when they talk on the phone. “I’ll be there in a jiffy,” she added, putting down the receiver.

“What is it, dear?” Dr Trifle asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“That was Sergeant Short. It seems that my sister, Jetty, has just been caught sneaking into the council chambers with a ladder under one arm.”

“You mean —?”

“Yes. He thinks she’s the globe grabber. Hurry! We’ve got to go to the town hall straight away. I can’t believe it! My own sister, a criminal! The family honour will be in tatters! I’ll never be able to show my face again.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions. She could be completely innocent,” said Dr Trifle, also jumping to the conclusion that Aunt Jetty was guilty and jumping into the car with Mrs Trifle and Selby. “The police will try out my Blabbo. We should know if she’s guilty soon.”

“Are you sure your Blabbo is safe?” Mrs Trifle asked as they tore through the darkened town.

“When scientists think a new medicine is safe,” Dr Trifle said, “they try it out on animals just to be sure. So that’s what I did and so far it’s okay.”

“You mean you gave some to a poor unsuspecting animal?”

“Yes, so your poor unsuspecting sister should be quite okay.”

“Hmmmmmmmm,” Selby thought as he munched on a bit of dog biscuit that had been stuck in his teeth. “I wonder what sort of poor unsuspecting animal Dr Trifle tried it out on.”

“What sort of poor unsuspecting animal did you try it out on?” Mrs Trifle asked.

“I put some on Selby’s dog biscuits,” Dr Trifle said, “and he seems to be okay — well at least so far.”

“Oh, no!” Selby thought, suddenly noticing the warm feeling of the truth serum in his stomach. “Dr Trifle’s tricked me into testing his Blabbo! It’s not fair! He’s turned me into his guinea pig!”

The car skidded to a stop in front of the town hall and the Trifles dashed inside. There, lying on the floor of the council chambers,
was the whole of Bogusville’s police force, Sergeant Short and Constable Long. Standing over them with her arms folded was Aunt Jetty.

“Jetty! What have you done to these poor men?” Mrs Trifle shrieked at her sister.

“I didn’t lay a hand on them!” Aunt Jetty protested. “They wanted me to take some truth serum and I said no way, not till
they
took some first. So they did, and that’s when the fighting began.”

Sergeant Short staggered to his feet and pulled Constable Long up by his shirt.

“What did you say about my haircut, you big-nosed beanpole?” he demanded.

“I said you looked like you lost a fight with a lawn-mower,” Constable Long answered. “You asked for the truth and you got it!”

“That’s the last time you’ll make a nasty crack about my hair!” Sergeant Short said, giving the constable a good shake. “I’ll have you fired for insulting a superior officer.”

“Hah! Talk about insults! What did you say about my nose?”

“I only said it was big. Big is big, there’s no
getting around it. You asked a question and I gave a truthful answer.”

“Gentlemen! Stop it!” Mrs Trifle said. “Stop telling the truth about each other this instant. It’s only causing problems.”

“But we can’t help it,” Constable Long said. “That beryl-meryl-whatsis won’t let us tell even the most innocent lies.”

“All right, sister,” Mrs Trifle said, turning to Jetty, “did you or did you not steal those light globes?”

“Me? Steal?” Aunt Jetty said innocently. “I’m as honest as the day is long.”

“If you’re so honest,” Dr Trifle said, thinking of what a short day it had been, “why were you caught skulking about in the town hall with a ladder?”

“I was removing light globes,” Aunt Jetty said flatly.

“So it is true!” Mrs Trifle exclaimed. “You were
stealing
light globes.”

“Not so fast, sis.
Removing
is not
stealing.
You wanted to save some of the rate-payers’ money in this stupid little town and I simply helped. It obviously took a clever person like
me from out of town to come up with the idea.”

“Will you tell us how, exactly, you expected to save Bogusville money?” Mrs Trifle asked. “It’ll cost us a fortune to replace all those light globes.”

“You won’t have to replace them. They’re right here,” Aunt Jetty said, opening a closet door and letting out a flood of globes. “Think of what you’ve been saving on your electricity bill.”

“Electricity bill?” Dr Trifle asked.

“Sure. With the globes out it’ll save electricity,” Aunt Jetty said. “You see, I’m no more a crook than that silly dog of yours. You’re not a crook are you?” she added, poking Selby with her walking-stick.

“Oh, no!” Selby thought, and panic spread through his body. “She just asked me a question and now I
have
to answer it! The truth serum won’t let me
not
answer! Help! I have to tell the truth and the truth will ruin me because everyone will know I’m a talking, feeling dog — the only one in Australia and perhaps the world! At first they’ll be delighted. I’ll have long conversations with the Trifles in front of a roaring fire. We’ll talk about things so interesting that I’ll go to sleep happy every night. Sure, that’s what’ll happen at first — but then what? Then it’ll be, ‘Selby, dear, would you mind answering the telephone while we’re out?’ and ‘Would you please pop down to the shops to get a few things for dinner?’ and ‘How about mowing the lawn?’
How about mowing the lawn!
How soon they forget to say ‘please'! I can’t answer. I can’t. But I have to …”

Selby stepped forward and was about to say, “You know perfectly well I’m not a crook,” when Mrs Trifle spoke for him.

“You know perfectly well he’s not a crook. He’s only a wonderful little dog,” she said, picking up the relieved Selby and giving him a big hug. “Now let’s go home before I tell the truth about what I think of you, Jetty.”

“Phew! That was close,” Selby thought. “Now I’ll just have to keep my toes crossed that nobody asks me any more questions till the truth serum wears off.”

“This is hopeless,” Dr Trifle said to Mrs Trifle as he cut another branch off a tall bush and sent it tumbling down next to Selby who was trying to find some shade. “It just doesn’t look like what it’s supposed to be.”