by Duncan Ball
‘Well, I saved them and then glued their little feet to these gloves and socks. So now I have flies’ feet — thousands and thousands of them.’
‘Oh, yuck!’ Mrs Trifle exclaimed. ‘That’s disgusting.’
‘The only disgusting thing is that my ankle is still so sore from falling off that ladder that I can’t climb properly.’
‘Aren’t you afraid that those old dried flies’ feet will break off and you’ll come crashing down?’
‘No. There are thousands and thousands of them. If enough of them broke off I’d slide slowly down, that’s all,’ Dr Trifle said, stepping down from the wall. ‘Here, you have a go.’
‘No way! Keep those filthy things away from me!’
‘Then I’ll have to get someone else to give them a proper test.’
‘Me me me!’ Selby thought.
‘Now who could we get?’ Dr Trifle said, slowly turning towards Selby.
Before Selby knew it the socks and gloves were being tightened around his paws. Then Dr Trifle picked him up, put his feet against the wall and slowly let go of him.
‘I’m standing on a wall!’ Selby thought. ‘I can’t believe this!’
‘Look, he’s walking!’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘He’s going right up the wall!’
‘He’s walking across the ceiling,’ Dr Trifle cried. ‘He’s Selby, the human fly — I mean Selby, the dog fly!’
‘This is sooooo much fun!’ Selby thought as he walked around in circles over the Trifles. ‘I feel as free as a bird!’
‘People will be able to climb anything with these,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘Utility poles, trees, buildings. Window-washers can use them on tall buildings instead of those things they have to stand in.’
‘Surely they won’t work on glass,’ Mrs Trifle said.
‘Why not flies walk on windows all the time. I know, let’s give them the ultimate glass test. Let’s see if they work on the brand new office building in the city, the Crystal Tower.’
‘Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy,’ Selby thought. ‘I’m going to love this!’
And so it was that Selby found himself part way up the Crystal Tower bright and early the next morning. And that’s where Selby was when he noticed the commotion in the street below.
‘Oh, phew!’ he said as he stood perfectly still so no one would notice him, ‘they’re all running around the corner. Something else is happening here. I’d better get down before someone sees me.’
Suddenly a woman’s voice yelled, ‘Hi-ho! and up I go!’ and then she added, ‘So long, suckers!’
‘It’s her!’ Selby squealed. ‘It’s Clemenza Lightfoot, the Human Fly! The bravest person in the world! She’s making a sneak attack on the Crystal Tower!’
Selby scurried across to the side of the building and then peeked around the edge. There, on the other side, was Clemenza, smacking the suction cups on her hands and feet against the glass with a Pssssht! and then pulling them loose with a Tha-kunk! as she made her way up the building.
‘Come down, Ms Lightfoot!’ a police officer yelled. ‘You’re under arrest!’
‘I’ll see you at the top, cop!’ Clemenza yelled back. ‘And good luck getting there because the lifts aren’t working yet. Yahoo!’
Tha-kunk! Pssssht!
Selby crept up and up, peering carefully around the side of the building as the woman made her way higher.
Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht!
‘Look at the muscles,’ he thought. ‘Wow! What a woman!’
Clemenza was halfway up the tower when she stopped to catch her breath. Sweat was pouring off her.
‘Dr Trifle was right about those suction thingies being hard work,’ Selby thought. ‘But you can do it, Clem!’
Suddenly a low cloud came in, covering the tower in mist.
‘This is spooky,’ Selby thought. ‘I can’t see the street or the top of the tower anymore. And I can barely see Clemenza.’
Clemenza was mumbling under her breath.
‘I’m so exhausted,’ she said. ‘I don’t know if I can do this … I’m so out of breath …’
‘Keep going, Clem!’ Selby muttered.
‘… I … I’ve got to do it … Can’t go down … too high up.’
Selby watched as Clemenza started up again.
Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha- kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht!
‘You can do it, Clem!’ Selby muttered again. ‘Just a little bit to go!’
Tha-kunk!
‘What was that? Did someone say something?’ Clemenza said.
‘Ooops,’ Selby thought, ducking around the corner. ‘I think she saw me.’
Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht!
Selby pulled himself tight against the glass and kept perfectly still. A head peered around the corner. The head was connected to the body of the bravest person in the world, Clemenza Lightfoot. Its eyes opened wide and then its mouth opened wider.
‘Yiiiiiikkkkeeeeesss!’ it screamed. ‘A dog! I’m terrified of dogs!’
Suddenly Clemenza Lightfoot went limp.
‘Oh, no! She’s fainted!’ Selby thought. ‘I can’t believe she’s scared of dogs! I’d better get out of here before she comes to.’
Selby started down.
Tha-kunk!
‘What was that? Oh, no, one of her hand suction cups has come loose! If I don’t wake her up, they’ll all come loose!’
Selby scrambled closer. He grabbed the woman’s hand and pressed it against the glass.
Pssssht!
‘Wake up!’ he cried. ‘You’re losing your suction!’
Tha-kunk!
‘Oh no, the other hand’s come loose!’
Selby r
eached out with his paw and pressed Clemenza’s other hand against the glass.
Pssssht!
But, no sooner had he done this than,Tha-kunk! A foot came loose.
Selby pushed Clemenza’s foot against the glass.
Pssssht!
And then,Tha-kunk! Another hand came loose.
‘Clem! Wake up!’
Pssssht!
‘I can’t keep this up forever!’ Selby took one of his gloves off the glass and slapped the Human Fly’s face once — and then again.
‘Wake up!’ he cried, whacking her with the other glove, and suddenly noticing the flurry of flies’ feet falling towards the ground.
‘Ooops,’ he said, ‘they’re breaking off. I’d better go easy.’
‘What? … What? …’ Clemenza mumbled. ‘What’s breaking off? Oh no, another dog!’
‘I’m not a dog!’ Selby said. ‘Calm down. Would I be talking if I was a dog?’
‘No, you’ve got a point,’ the woman said. ‘Then what are you?’Tha-kunk!
‘I’m a person in a dog suit,’ Selby said. ‘But never mind about that, your foot just came loose! Push it back again, quick!’ ‘Oh, okay.’Pssssht!
‘So what are you doing up here? Are you trying to beat me to the top or something?’Tha-kunk!
‘No, I’m not! But never mind about that, Clem, your left hand just came loose again!’Pssssht!
‘That’s better,’ Selby said, ‘now start climbing! You’re almost there!’
‘I can’t,’ the woman sighed. ‘I’m too exhausted.’ ‘If you don’t, you’ll fall!’ Selby said. ‘Come on, Clem, right hand …’
Tha-kunk!Pssssht! ‘Now left foot …’Tha-kunk! Pssssht! ‘Atta girl, Clem …’
Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk! Pssssht! Tha-kunk!
Little by little Selby and Clemenza Lightfoot moved towards the top of the building. ‘I can’t do it,’ Clemenza gasped. ‘I can’t.’ ‘You have to! You’re almost there! One more step!’
Tha-kunk! Pssssht!
Clemenza grabbed the railing at the top of the tower and pulled herself up and over. Then she turned and leaned down, putting out her hand.
‘Grab my hand, little guy,’ she said. Selby stretched out a paw but suddenly sensed himself slowly slipping.
‘Oh, no! I’m sliding!’ Selby screamed. ‘Save me!’
But it was too late, Selby’s front paws had lost their grip and he spun around, pointing downward. His back paws held him for a second but then he started sliding faster and faster down the side of the building.
‘I’m going down!’ he cried.
‘No, no, don’t go!’ Clemenza yelled after him. ‘I want to know who you are!’
Like a skier going full speed down a ski slope, Selby slid through the mist towards the ground. Before he knew it he was lying on the footpath staring up at the startled Dr and Mrs Trifle.
‘Oh, Selby,’ Mrs Trifle said, picking him up in her arms. ‘Thank goodness, you’re safe!’
‘Good boy,’ Dr Trifle said, taking the Wall Walkers off Selby’s paws and throwing them in a rubbish bin. ‘I guess these were a bit of a dud. It’s a pity because they seemed to work brilliantly at first. Oh, well.’
That night back in Bogusville, the Trifles watched the evening news. They saw Clemenza Lightfoot being taken away in a police car.
‘What is she raving about?’ Dr Trifle asked. ‘Something about a man in a dog suit talking to her and helping her get to the top.’
‘I told you the woman was a bit strange,’ Mrs Trifle said.
Suddenly Dr and Mrs Trifle turned towards Selby.
‘A man in a dog suit?’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘You don’t suppose …?’
‘But there’s no way Selby could have talked to her,’ Dr Trifle said.
‘Still,’ Mrs Trifle answered, ‘I think something strange happened up there on that building today. It was a pity we couldn’t see because of the mist.’
‘You mean we missed something because of the mist,’ Dr Trifle laughed.
‘I guess you could say,’ Selby thought, ‘that it will always be a mist-ery.’
Paw note: This is my specially invented question-comma. You can use it in the middle of sentences. Good, hey?
S
SELBY SPORTS STAR
‘Soccer?’ Dr Trifle said. ‘I have no idea how to play soccer. Is it a card game? Or is it that game where you throw rubber chickens into a bathtub?’
‘Neither, silly,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘There’s a ball and you kick it up and down the field till
someone gets a goal.’
‘What’s a goal?’
‘That’s when someone kicks the ball into this sort of a box thingy. Only there’s a goalie trying to keep it from going in.’
‘I don’t understand this sports business,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘In every sort of game there’s someone trying to do something and someone else trying to stop them. Why don’t they just take turns? That way everyone will get lots of points and they’ll all stay friends and no one will get hurt.’
‘Poor Dr Trifle,’ Selby thought. ‘He has no idea. He’s the least sporty person in the whole world.’
‘But it wouldn’t be any fun,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Now I hope you don’t mind but you and I are going to be playing soccer for Bogusville against Poshfield. Don’t worry, I’ll tell you what to do. It’s just a friendly match.’
‘Friendly? Against Poshfield? Are you sure? It seems to me that things can be quite unfriendly if Poshfield’s mayor, Denis Dorset, has anything to do with it. Is he going to play?’
‘No.’
‘Good.’
‘He’ll be the referee,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘And don’t worry, he can’t cheat because I have a copy of the rules right here,’ Mrs Trifle said, holding up a book called Soccer for Ninnies. ‘I’ve been studying them for weeks.’
‘If I’m going to play this soccer thing I’d better get into shape,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘I think I’ll start by walking around the house once a day and then I’ll do some thumb flexes and some bending over.’
‘There’s no time for that. The game starts in fifteen minutes,’ Mrs Trifle said, handing her husband a pair of shorts and an I Luv Bogusville T-shirt. ‘Get into these. Oh, and Selby can be our mascot and bring us good luck.’
‘Oh, boy!’ Selby thought. ‘I love soccer! I watch it all the time on TV when the Trifles are out. I can’t wait to see Bogusville thrash those poncy Poshfield guys.’
At the soccer field Denis Dorset was wearing a striped referee’s uniform and a whistle hung around his neck.
‘Let’s see who’s playing for Bogusville,’ Selby thought. ‘There’s Melanie Mildew, she could be okay; Camilla Bonzer, I’m not so sure about her; Postie Paterson, good; and Aunt Jetty is the goalie. They used to call her Shin-Smasher Jetty when she played hockey. I reckon she’ll be a really good goalie. Oh, and there’s Gary Gaggs, he could be okay. Not a great team but the Poshfield team looks pathetic. Look at them in their neat little uniforms. They look like they’ve just come from the hairdressers and had their fingernails polished. And that’s just the guys. I reckon they’ll be in for a big surprise.’
‘It’s about time you got here,’ Denis Dorset said to the Trifles. ‘Now are you ready to play?’
‘Well, yes, I think so,’ Mrs Trifle said.
‘Then how about a little wager?’
‘A what?’
‘A bet. I’ll bet you ten thousand dollars that we’ll beat you.’
‘Ten thousand dollars!’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘We don’t have that sort of money. Besides, I’m not really a betting person.’
‘Then we’ll make it one thousand. Just take it out of the tea money jar in your council’s recreation room. That’s what we did.’
‘Our council doesn’t even have a recreation room and our tea money jar never has any more than seventy cents in it.’
‘Oh be a sport, Mayor Trifle,’ Denis said, rubbing his hands together. ‘Or are you afraid we’ll beat you
?’
‘Not at all. I think we should just play for the fun of it.’
‘Fun? You’re such a bunch of scaredy-cats.’
‘No, we’re not.’
‘If these Poshfield twits really want to lose their money,’ Aunt Jetty roared, ‘let’s take it from them! What do you say? Let’s all chip in and take the bet! Come on, guys!’
‘I’ll be in that!’ Melanie Mildew yelled.
‘Me too!’ said Postie Paterson.
‘And me!’ Gary Gaggs said.
One by one, the Bogusville players called out.
‘Okay, Denis,’ Mrs Trifle said, ‘a thousand dollars it is.’
A cheer went up from the Bogusville players as the two mayors shook hands.
‘Great!’ Selby thought. ‘This is just tooooooo good!’
Denis Dorset blew his whistle.
‘Okay, the game has officially started,’ he said. ‘But wait. I do believe you’re one player short, Mayor Trifle. I’m afraid you’ll have to forfeit the game.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Your team just lost. I’m terribly sorry but those are the rules,’ Denis said, holding up his copy of Soccer for Ninnies. ‘You only have ten players and you need eleven. Sorry. We’ll take the thousand dollars in cash, thank you very much.’
The Poshfield team all laughed and began putting on their designer tracksuits.
‘That is so not fair!’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘You knew we only had ten players before you made the bet. That’s cheating!’
‘It’s not cheating,’ Denis said. ‘It’s just noticing. It’s a pity you didn’t notice, too. You could have saved your players a considerable amount of money.’
Mrs Trifle thumbed through her copy of Soccer for Ninnies.
‘Hang on,’ she said. ‘Selby is our eleventh player.’
‘Selby?’ Denis Dorset asked. ‘Who’s that?’
‘Our mascot,’ Mrs Trifle said, pointing to Selby. ‘And now he’s going to be a player, too.’
‘You can’t have a dog on your team!’
‘Show me where it says that the players have to be human beings.’
‘Of course it’s not in the rule book,’ Denis said. ‘It’s too obvious. Everyone knows that already.’
