Selby Shattered (3 page)

‘So that’s how he does it!’ Gary cried. ‘But I wonder who wrote this note.’

‘Not us,’ said the Trifles.

‘Well, whoever did,’ Gary said, ‘just saved my career. If this masked man turns up at my show tonight, I’ll be ready for him.’

Once again, Dr and Mrs Trifle were in the theatre, watching the audience. And, once again, Selby watched from behind the curtain.

‘Every seat is filled and I still don’t see the gagster,’ Selby thought. ‘That’s strange. Maybe he’s not coming, after all.’

Finally, Gary came out onto the stage.

‘Good evening, ladies and jellyfish,’ he said. ‘It’s great to be back in Bogusville. This is where I did my very first comedy show. You may not know this but I wasn’t always a comedian. I used to work at a garage installing mufflers but it was exhausting. It was
exhausting
! Woo woo woo!’

‘I haven’t heard that one before,’ Selby thought. ‘He’s got so many great jokes.’

‘But seriously, folks,’ Gary went on. ‘I wanted to be a musician but my piano playing wasn’t noteworthy. Woo woo woo! So I went to work in a shoe factory but I didn’t
fit
in. Then I tried to be a witch. I only did that for a
spell.
For a while I worked at the zoo feeding the giraffes but I just wasn’t
up
to it. Woo woo woo! I thought you’d like that one.’

‘Like
it?’ Selby screamed in his brain. ‘I
loved
it.’

‘But seriously, folks. I tried to be a doctor but I just didn’t have the
patients. And
then I was a history teacher for a while but I didn’t think there was any
future
in it.’

‘Gary has to be the funniest funnyman in the whole world,’ Selby thought as he bit his tongue
to keep from laughing out loud. ‘I can barely stand it!’

After a while, Gary said, ‘My hopeless little brother, Larry, had his first day at school. Mum asked him, “Was it fun?” And my brother said —’

Before Gary could say another word, a voice from the audience yelled out,
‘Yes, but someone called Miss kept spoiling it.
‘

‘It’s him again!’ Selby thought.

‘Thank you,’ Gary said with a laugh. ‘My little brother was so dumb that he thought that a traffic jam was —’

‘Something police officers put on their toast!’
the voice yelled out.

Selby’s eyes darted from one person to the next.

‘I can’t see who’s doing it,’ he thought.

Gary went on. ‘My hopeless little brother thought that a see-saw was —’

‘Something you cut water with!
’ the heckler yelled.

‘No wonder I didn’t see him!’ Selby thought. ‘He’s dressed like a woman this time! He’s about three rows back. No one’s spotted him! I’ve got to stop him before he ruins Gary’s act again.’

Selby slipped silently along the row just behind the ghostly gagster.

‘This is him, I know it is!’ Selby looked up at the woman’s hair hanging down over the back of the seat. ‘I’ll just wait a second to be sure.’

‘One day Larry and I were getting dressed to go to school,’ Gary said, ‘and I said, “Hey, you’ve got holes in your underwear.” And he said —’

‘Here I go!’ Selby thought. ‘Selby to the rescue!’

And the voice yelled out, ‘Of course I’ve got holes in my underwear. How do you think I —
‘

As soon as those words were out of his mouth, the man felt a sudden tug from behind that pulled off his wig and his mask at the same time.

‘How do you think I get my feet into them …’ the man said, his voice getting slower and lower as he went. ‘Hey! What’s going on here?!’

As Selby crept quietly beneath the seats, the man suddenly stood up. Gary Gaggs stared at him in disbelief.

‘Larry!’ he cried. ‘It’s you, my own brother! You’re the one who’s been ruining my shows! Why? Why did you do it?’

Larry’s face turned pink, then red and then deep purple. Tears formed in his eyes.

‘Because you’re not nice,’ he sobbed. ‘Just because you’re Mr Big Famous Comedian doesn’t mean you can be cruel to your little brother.’

‘Oh, Larry,’ Gary said, stepping off the stage. ‘I was just joking.’

‘Jokes can hurt people, you know.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ Gary said, giving his brother a big hug. ‘I had no idea I was hurting your feelings. I promise I’ll never tell jokes about you again. Will you forgive me?’

‘Yes,’ Larry said, blowing his nose, ‘if you’ll forgive me for ruining your shows.’

And, as Selby slipped secretly out from beneath the seats, he heard the loudest clapping and cheering that he’d ever heard at one of Gary’s comedy shows.

‘Isn’t that lovely?’ Selby thought as he too felt tears come to his eyes. ‘I think this was Gary’s greatest show ever.’

‘This is seriously weird!’ Selby gasped. ‘Suddenly there are dogs all over town — huge dogs! They’re everywhere! We’re in the middle of a dog invasion!’

Two dogs stopped in the street.

‘Arf!’
one of them said. ‘I’m Figaro.’

‘
Bow wow,
the other one answered. ‘I’m Piddles. Pleased to meet you. Have you seen Kewpie?’

‘Is she the Irish Setter?’

‘No, she’s the Wolfhound Pomeranian cross.’

‘I think she’s at the Convention Centre.’

‘What is happening here?!’ Selby screamed in his brain. ‘They’re not only dogs — they’re
talking
dogs, just like me! I thought I was the only talking dog in Australia and, perhaps, the world!’

Selby stood there, stunned, as dogs passed him on the footpath.

‘Wait just a minute,’ he thought. ‘There’s something wrong here. They’re all walking on their hind legs. Maybe they’re walking on their
only
legs. I reckon they’re people in dog suits and not dogs at all. Phew! I’m glad I didn’t talk to them because I’d have given away my secret.’

‘It’s the annual meeting of the SSS,’ Mrs Trifle explained to Dr Trifle later that day. ‘They’re the first group to hire the new Convention Centre.’

‘I didn’t expect the Centre to be hired by people in dog suits,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘I thought it would be for people selling tractors or for sheep-shearing demonstrations. What exactly does SSS stand for, anyway?’

‘It’s the Search for Selby Society.’

‘Gulp,’ Selby gulped.

‘Who is this Selby
Dr Trifle asked.

‘You know, the dog in those children’s books. The SSS is looking for him.’

‘Double gulp,’ Selby gulped again. ‘They’re after me!’

‘But Selby is just a made-up character,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘Surely they don’t think he’s real.’

‘Yes, they do. These people used to be in a group that searched for alien life forms in other parts of the universe, but they gave up.’

‘Why did they give up?’

‘Because they didn’t find any. Then one of them said, “Why are we looking for alien life forms off in space when there might be some right here on earth?"’

‘Good point …I guess,’ Dr Trifle said.

‘Then someone read one of the Selby books and thought that maybe they’re true. Maybe an alien has taken over a dog’s body right here in Australia and that Selby is him.’

‘Now, hold the show!’ Selby thought. ‘I’m not an alien life form. I’m a normal dog who just happens to know how to talk.’

‘But why do they wear dog suits?’ Dr Trifle asked. ‘They certainly seem like a bunch of odd bods.’

‘No, I think they’re quite normal people but they might be embarrassed to let their friends know about their hobby of looking for aliens. Some of them might actually be famous people. Anyway, when they go to meetings, they put on dog suits and use made-up dog names.’

‘Why did they choose Bogusville
for their meeting?’

‘Apparently Bogusville is a lot like the town in the Selby books,’ Mrs Trifle explained. ‘And, by the way, I’ve invited some of them around for afternoon tea.’

‘They’re coming here?’

‘Just a few of them,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘When I told them we have a dog, they seemed very excited to meet him.’

‘I’ll bet they were,’ Selby silently moaned.

‘How old is he?’ Candy asked when the group from SSS arrived.

‘He’s ten,’ Mrs Trifle said, passing around a plate of biscuits.

‘Why, that’s the same age as Selby in the books!’

Bambino struggled to drink her tea through the mouth of her dog suit and then said, ‘He’s a very clean dog.’

‘Have you ever wondered,’ BeoWoof asked, ‘if he might be inhabited by an alien?’

‘Oh, puleeeez,’ Selby thought.

‘No, not really,’ Dr Trifle said, ‘but strange things sometimes happen when Selby’s around.’

BeoWoof, Sausage, Tofu, Candy, Bambino and Fang put down their teacups.

‘What sort of strange things?’ asked Fang.

‘Yes, what sort of strange things?’ Selby thought.

‘Oh, just little things, like the times we’ve come home and found the lights and TV on when we thought we’d turned them off.’

‘You call those
little
things?’ asked Tofu.

‘Well, yes,’ Mrs Trifle answered, ‘because we know that we must have left them on. It obviously can’t have been Selby who turned them on while we were out.’

‘I’m not so sure about that,’ Bambino said. ‘When the TV was on, was Selby anywhere near it?’

‘Yes, but then he does spend a lot of time in the loungeroom, don’t you, Selby?’

‘Why did you ask him a question?’ Candy asked. ‘Do you expect him to answer you?’

‘Of course not,’ Mrs Trifle laughed. ‘We often ask him questions. He never answers. It’s just a silly thing we do.’

‘It might not be that silly,’ Sausage said. ‘We think that people sense when their pets are inhabited by alien life forms.’

‘I’m not an alien life form!’ Selby thought. ‘When are these people going to leave me alone?’

‘Could you explain that?’ asked Mrs Trifle.

‘People are very sensitive,’ Sausage said. ‘We sense when aliens are near. I think you must sense that Selby can understand everything you say and that’s why you talk to him.’

There was a long silence as the Search for Selby Society dog-people stared at Selby.

‘Stop doing that!’ Selby thought. ‘You’re going to make me blush!’

‘Well then,’ Mrs Trifle said, changing the subject. ‘What happens at your meetings?’

‘Mostly we talk about the clues in the Selby books,’ BeoWoof said.

‘Yes,’ Candy agreed. ‘We study the books to see if there are any clues as to what Selby’s real name might be and where he lives and who his owners are. The author of the books says that Selby’s a real dog and that he knows how to talk, and we have no reason to doubt that.’

‘And sooner or later he will give himself away and we’ll find him,’ Fang added. ‘Isn’t that right, Selby?’

‘Oh, no!’ Selby screamed in his brain. ‘I wish they’d stop staring at me and go to their silly meeting. Come to think of it, I’m the one who should go to their meeting. I should go and see if they’re about to spring me. But how can I be there without being noticed?’

It was a secretive dog that crept under the house and quietly put on the dog-suit disguise that he kept hidden there. And it was a nervous dog-suited dog that walked into the Convention Centre.

Selby sat and listened to one speaker after another talking about the clues they’d found in the Selby books.

‘I had no idea I gave away that much!’ Selby thought. ‘I’m going to have to stop telling Duncan my stories. These people have almost enough clues to find me! This is awful. (
Sniff)
I’ll have to leave home and never come back.’

Selby felt the tears running down his cheeks inside his dog suit at the thought of never seeing the Trifles again.

‘Well, that ends our meeting for this year,’ a man named Bazooka said. ‘Bit by bit we’ve found out where he
can’t
be. One good clue and we could find exactly where he is. We’ll see you all next year. Keep in touch by email.’

‘Excuse me,’ Tofu said, ‘but haven’t we forgotten to look in the most obvious place of all?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘We chose to have our meeting in Bogusville because it’s one of the nineteen towns around Australia that could be Selby’s home. What if he actually does live here?’

‘Yes, we know that’s possible.’

‘Well, if you were Selby and we came to your town, where would you be?’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘You’d come to the meeting, wouldn’t you? You’d want to see what was going on. And we know from the Selby books that the first thing he’d do is to put on his dog suit so that people would think that he’s a person in a dog suit. They wouldn’t suspect that he’s a
dog
in a dog suit
.

‘You mean that he could be here right now?’

An excited murmur passed through the audience.

‘Yes,’ Tofu said. ‘In fact, he could be you! Or you! Or you!’ he said, pointing around the room, and finally pointing to Selby. ‘Or you!’ he added.

‘Yeah, well he could be you, too!’ Selby said, pointing back at him.

‘He’s right!’ someone yelled. ‘Let’s take off our dog suits and see if there’s a dog in here.’

‘Take your own off,’ someone else yelled back. ‘You’re not touching mine!’

‘Oh, so you’re him!’ another person yelled. ‘Grab him and take off his head!’

‘Oh no you don’t!’

Soon there were people crash-tackling other people and pulling off their dog heads.

‘Kirsty Karpenter!’ a man’s voice said. ‘You’re on that TV show about home renovations.’

‘And who are you?’ Kirsty said, grabbing the man’s dog head and pulling it off. ‘Hey! Aren’t you the weatherman on Channel 8?’

‘Don’t you dare tell anyone that I’m here!’ the man said.

One by one, heads were removed until finally they were down to the last dog suit. A dog suit that was running for the door.

‘Hey! Stop that dog!’ someone yelled. ‘Stop him, Fang!’

‘Oh no you don’t!’ a voice yelled back. ‘You’re not taking my head off!’

‘It must be him! It must be the real Selby!’

The little figure started running faster, punching and kicking its way through the crowd, knocking people this way and that.

‘We’ve finally got him! Don’t let him get away!’