by Duncan Ball
Then came the Easter long weekend when he knew that the Trifles would be away at the Sunburn Coast delivering another melonboard for Cool Jules to test.
‘Now all I have to do is make sure that Aunt Jetty doesn’t catch me cooking when she pops in to put food in my bowl,’ Selby thought.
Selby cooked all through the night until he was completely exhausted and so covered in chocolate and coconut that he looked like a big lamington with ears and a tail. All of which brings us back to the beginning of this story.
‘So far, so good,’ he thought as he stepped out of the shower looking like a new dog but feeling like he’d been up all night long — which, of course, he had. ‘I’ve got the lammos. Now for the lamington drive.’
Selby crept out of the house just before sunrise and set up a folding table at the end of the street. On it was a huge box with two hundred lamingtons in it, a piece of paper, and a sign that said:
LET’S RENAME THIS STREET TRIFLE TERRACE AFTER TERFLE TRIFLE: THE FIRST PERSON TO LIVE IN THE STREET. SIGN THE PETITION AND BUY SOME LAMMOS FOR ONLY 50 CENTS EACH TO PAY FOR THE NEW STREET SIGNS.
Then Selby sneaked back home before anyone saw him.
Within two hours the lamingtons had all been sold and everyone on Bunya-Bunya Crescent had signed the petition. Selby, now barely able to keep his eyes open, dragged himself out again, grabbed the box — which had exactly one hundred dollars in it.
‘Now to fill in the Street Renaming Form,’ he said as he sat down at the Trifles’ desk. ‘Let’s see now. “Old name of street.“ ”New name of street.“ “How was money raised?” Mrs Trifle was right — this form is so simple that it’s idiot-proof. But I can barely keep my eyes open. Oh, well, here goes.’
Selby filled in the blanks on the form and put it and the money into an envelope before staggering down the street to post it.
When the Trifles returned that afternoon, Selby was sound asleep.
Two weeks later Selby had almost forgotten about the street name when he heard the sound of hammering outside. Mrs Trifle came racing in.
‘You’ll never guess what’s happened?!’ she cried. ‘It’s so exciting! We don’t live on Bunya-Bunya Crescent anymore!’
‘Goodness! Where do we live?’ Dr Trifle said, looking out the window to see if the street looked familiar. ‘I don’t remember moving house — do you?’
‘No, silly, someone must have got the same idea we had: they’ve renamed the street. It’s no longer called Bunya-Bunya Crescent.’
Selby got up and stretched. He could feel the warmth of his achievement flow through him like a cup of hot cocoa. The good deed that he’d wanted to do for the Trifles for so long was now finally done — and no one would ever guess that he was the one who did it.
‘So what street do we live in now?’ Dr Trifle asked, squinting to read the street sign in the distance. ‘I can’t quite make out the name.’
‘I’ll give you a hint,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘It’s a kind of food.’
‘Food?’ said Dr Trifle.
‘Food?’ thought Selby as he raced to the window. ‘What is she talking about? Oh, of course! How silly of me! A trifle is a kind of dessert. She thinks that Trifle Terrace was named after the food and not after her and Dr Trifle. Isn’t that a laugh?’
Selby rubbed his eyes and looked across the street. The old Bunya-Bunya Crescent sign now lay on the ground and the new one, with bright blue letters, stood on the pole above it. It said:
LAMINGTON DRIVE
‘Lamington Drive?!’ Selby screamed in his brain. ‘It’s supposed to say Trifle Terrace not Lamington Drive! Someone at the council must have made a mistake!’
‘I guess everyone else in the street was having trouble with the name Bunya-Bunya Crescent,’ Mrs Trifle said, ‘so they changed it. Do you like the name?’
‘I like it,’ Dr Trifle said, ‘but it’ll take some getting used to.’
‘Yes,’ Mrs Trifle said, ‘and I’ll get hungry every time I see the sign.’
‘Every time I see the sign,’ Selby thought, ‘I’ll get sick to my stomach! I just realised what happened: I must have made a mistake when I filled out the Street Renaming Form. I put the bit about how the money was raised? in the space for the new name of the street! It’s all my fault! Those new forms may have been idiot-proof but they weren’t quite Selby-proof.‘
Paw note: This is my other cool invention — the exclamation-comma. You can use this one in the middle of a sentence too!
S
SADDLE-SORE SELBY
‘Saddle up, girls!’ called Mrs Martingale, the owner of the Slippery Saddles Riding School. ‘Lunch is over. Time for another ride.’
From where Selby was hiding in the hayloft he heard a loud groan.
‘I’ll have none of that!’ Mrs Martingale said sharply. ‘Don’t be such wimps! You’re just a little saddle-sore, that’s all. Nobody ever died from being saddle-sore. You’ll never learn to ride properly if you don’t practise.’
Selby peeked out as the girls climbed back on their horses.
‘What about these horses?’ Prunella asked, pointing to two horses still in their stalls. ‘Shouldn’t we be riding them too? They haven’t had any exercise all day.’
‘Well, that’s very thoughtful of you, Prune,’ Mrs Martingale said. ‘But Sleepytime Sal is very old and very tired. She can only really be ridden by a small child. If one of you rode her, you’d be lagging behind all the time and it would be too much for her.’
‘How about the other one?’ one of the other girls asked.
‘That’s Mr Wiggle,’ Mrs Martingale said. ‘He’s a very valuable showjumping horse. He’s so highly strung that only an expert could ride him. He actually belongs to Somerset Stud Farm.’
‘What’s he doing here at the riding school?’ Prunella asked.
‘That’s a bit of a secret, Prune,’ Mrs Martingale said in a low voice. ‘His owners are afraid of horse thieves. Someone tried to steal him recently and his owners are now putting security alarms in the stables and installing a big metal gate.’
‘So you’re looking after him while they’re doing the work, is that it?’
‘You’re too clever for your own good, Prune. Yes, just for a day or two. No one knows he’s here so you’re all sworn to secrecy, okay?’
‘Where’s Selby?’ one of the girls asked. ‘Can’t he come along?’
‘He’s probably asleep somewhere,’ Mrs Martingale said. ‘We must have worn him out this morning. Come along now.’
‘You can say that again,’ Selby thought as he watched the girls ride across the paddock and into the woods. ‘I never wanted to become these girls’ private pet. It’s all Mrs Trifle’s fault. Whenever the girls go on an outing they ask Mrs Trifle if it’s okay to take me along — and it’s always okay with her! How about me? I spent all morning running to keep up with those horses. That’s not my idea of a good time.’
Selby peered over the edge of the loft and looked at the horses that had been left behind.
‘I feel sorry for these two. Sleepytime Sal is okay I guess but poor Mr Wiggle,’ he thought as he watched the horse move back and forth in his stall. ‘He’s so frisky. He’ll go bonkers cooped up in there all day.’
Selby lay there watching.
‘Horses. Why do girls go completely ga-ga over horses? Dogs are so much more fun. They jump on your lap and lick you. They chase sticks — well, some of them do. But I guess you can’t ride a dog. Maybe it isn’t the horses they like but the riding. Sitting on a horse’s back. Bouncing around. Weird. Of course, I have no idea what it’s like because I’ve never done it.’
Selby looked at the sleepy horse and then the frisky one.
‘How hard can it be to ride a dopey old horse like Sleepytime Sal?’ he wondered. ‘Maybe I’ll just have a quick ride around the ring to see what all the fuss is about.’
Selby climbed up the side of one of the stalls and pulled a saddle off a rail.
‘Wake up there, Sal,’ he s
aid, putting the saddle on the sleepy horse. ‘Don’t panic but you’re in for a treat. You’re about to be ridden by a real live dog — a talking one at that. Hmmm, let’s see, how does this seat belt go on? It must go around the horse’s belly.’
Selby jumped into the stall, climbed under the horse and fastened the girth. He opened the door and then climbed up on a stool.
‘Steady on, Sal, my gal,’ he said, climbing into the saddle. ‘That’s a good girl. Okay now, go! Move it out there. Oooooooo. This feels all rocky and funny. I think I need a seat belt for myself.’
The horse walked slowly out of the stall, then into the riding ring and out the open gate and into the paddock.
‘Oooops, I meant to close that,’ Selby thought. ‘Oh, well. Come on, this is getting boring. How about a little action, Sal?’ Selby said, as the horse broke into a trot. ‘That’s more like it. Okay, now turn right! Come on, Sal, I said, turn! Struth! Where are the handlebars on this thing? Uh-oh, I forgot to put those steering string things on her. But I know what to do,’ Selby said, grabbing a pawful of mane, ‘I’ll steer her with this. I saw someone do it in a movie on TV.’
The horse was going faster and broke into a canter as it went through another open gate and down the hill.
‘Stop it, Sal! Stop! Whoa! What are you doing? Not that way! If the girls see me I’m a done dog! They’ll know I’m not an ordinary non-talking non-horse-riding dog! Turn around! Go back! About face! You’re supposed to be sleepy and slow and you’re as fast as a fire engine!’
Selby stopped pulling on the mane and clung to the saddle with all paws as the horse shot down through a gully, across a stream and up the side of a hill.
‘I can’t stop her and I can’t jump off because she’s going too fast!’ Selby thought as he saw the girls’ horses on the track ahead.
‘Oh, nooooooo!’ he cried. ‘The seat belt is loosening up! I’m going down!’
Selby and the saddle slid around under the horse with Selby still clinging to it. Then, as he flashed past the girls, he heard Mrs Martingale cry, ‘Mr Wiggle is loose! There’s movement at the station! The colt from Somerset has got away! After him, girls!’
‘Mr Wiggle?’ Selby thought as he clung for dear life. ‘But I thought you were a girl.’ Selby turned his head around to look backwards towards the girls. ‘Gulp. You’re no girl, that’s for sure. Oh, no! I’m riding a champion showjumper!’
Down through the valley Mr Wiggle tore with Selby clinging underneath and a thundering herd of screaming girls riding close behind.
‘There’s something clinging to Mr Wiggle’s belly!’ Prunella yelled.
‘Oh, no, they’ve seen me!’ Selby thought. ‘I can’t let go now or they’ll trample me and if I let them catch up they’ll know the clinging thing is me!’
Selby thought about what would happen when they caught up to him and found out his secret. Sure, the girls would be delighted. They’d take him back to the stables and they’d all sit around and have a nice chat and plenty of pats. He’d tell them that being a dog was like being a person only better. And then they’d take him home and tell Dr and Mrs Trifle. They, too, would be happy at first but then it would start: ‘Selby, would you mind scooping the leaves off the swimming pool while we’re out today?’ Or: ‘Selby, could you ring all these people and tell them about the council meeting tonight?’ Or: ‘Selby, would you mind cleaning the toilet?’
‘No! No! No! I can’t stand it!’ Selby thought. ‘I don’t want to be found out!’
Just then one of the girls screamed, ‘Look out!’ And in that instant Mr Wiggle leapt high in the air over a row of dense bushes. Then he landed on the other side and came to a stop. In a second Mrs Martingale and the girls came around the bushes and surrounded him.
‘The lump on Mr Wiggle’s belly is gone!’ Prunella exclaimed.
‘And look at this,’ Mrs Martingale laughed. ‘Some nitwit tried to steal Mr Wiggle but didn’t tighten the girth properly. I suspect the horse-napper got a nasty surprise!’
‘He certainly did,’ Selby thought when he crept out of the bushes and limped back towards the stables. ‘And I don’t think this nitwit is likely to do it again!’
THE S-FILES
‘The Trifles have been captured by aliens!’ Selby screamed as he looked at the burnt circle in the grass. ‘This is where the spaceship took off! What do I do? Who do I call?!’
It all began the night before when Dr Trifle was working on a new invention in his workroom and Mrs Trifle was settling down to watch their favourite TV alien adventure program.
‘Oh, I’m so glad the Trifles like that show because I absolutely adore it and I can watch too!’ Selby thought as Dr Trifle put another bolt into his invention. ‘The stories are so spooky. And those special investigators are great! He’s so handsome and she is so beautiful.’
‘It’s show time,’ Mrs Trifle sang out from the next room.
Dr Trifle stopped work and went into the loungeroom. Selby darted after him.
‘Oh, boy!’ Selby thought as he curled up in his favourite spot next to the lounge. ‘I can feel the tingles creeping up my spine already and the show hasn’t even started!’
The episode was about an inventor who had suddenly disappeared. Soon the two special investigators arrived on the scene.
‘I think I know what’s happened here,’ the man said. ‘He’s been abducted by aliens.’
‘Very unlikely,’ the woman said. ‘Why do you think it was aliens?’
‘This invention was obviously something the aliens didn’t want him to be working on.’
‘It looks like a can opener to me.’
‘How can it be a can opener? It’s as big as a fridge.’
‘It’s for big cans.’
‘His notes say that he was working on an invention that would unlock the secrets of the universe. Look, the invention has the initials S-O-T-U written on the side.’
‘SOTU? Is that a word?’
‘It stands for Secrets Of The Universe.’
‘But one of the neighbours saw a group of very short people with wild hair come to the door the night he disappeared,’ the man said. ‘How do you explain that?’
‘Short? Wild hair? Girl Guides. Probably Girl Guides selling chocolates to collect money for a camp.’
‘But then the neighbours heard the man screaming his head off.’
‘So maybe he didn’t like chocolates,’ the woman said. ‘I don’t like chocolates either. Give me a chocolate and I’ll scream my head off too. Let’s get out of here.’
‘Not so fast. How do you explain that circle of burnt grass?’ the man asked.
‘How do you explain it?’
‘That’s obviously where the spaceship took off.’
‘I think the Girl Guides had a campfire and a big singsong. They like to do those things. If you want I’ll sing you some campfire songs.’
‘But the man has disappeared! There’s got to be a reason for it.’
‘Okay so he was abducted by Girl Guides and force-fed chocolates. Then they made him listen to campfire songs before they took him away. They’ll bring him back. Let’s get out of here.’
‘This is sooooo frustrating!’ Selby thought. ‘She never believes a word he says! It drives me nuts! But I can’t stop watching the program. It’s great!’
Selby and the Trifles watched in silence as the two investigators dashed from one crime scene to the next, fighting off evil agents, and nearly being killed a dozen times.
‘What was that all about?’ Dr Trifle said. ‘I was completely lost by the end of it.’
‘So was I,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘But I can’t wait to see what happens next week.’
‘Oh, well, back to my invention,’ Dr Trifle said, heading for his workroom.
‘Another invention to unlock the secrets of the universe?’ Mrs Trifle said with a chuckle.
‘Shhhh,’ the doctor said. ‘The aliens will hear you.’
‘How can he make jokes like that?!’ Sel
by thought. ‘I still have shivers from that show.’
* * *
That night aliens came and took Selby away. Well they didn’t really but that’s what he dreamt. He also had nightmares about a huge white worm that was taking over Bogusville.
The next morning Selby awoke to an eerie calm.
‘Why is it so quiet around here?’ he thought. ‘Usually the Trifles are having breakfast. Or Dr Trifle is banging away in his workroom.’
Selby trotted into the kitchen and began eating the Dry-Mouth Dog Biscuits in his bowl.
‘It’s as creepy as a graveyard in here,’ he thought as he looked around the house. ‘They’ve gone out. But their car’s still in the driveway. They never go anywhere without their car. This is really weird.’
Selby looked out the front door and saw something strange in the field across the street. He dashed over and found a big round circle of burnt grass. Next to it lay Dr Trifle’s new invention.
‘I can’t believe it!’ Selby cried as he read the initials S-O-T-U painted on the side of the invention. ‘The doctor wasn’t kidding! He was onto something! S-O-T-U must stand for Secrets Of The Universe. He was about to unlock them! The Trifles have been captured by aliens! Help! This is where the spaceship took off! What do I do? Who do I call?!’
Selby ran to the phone and dialled 000.
‘What is the nature of your emergency?’ the voice said.
‘Pardon?’ Selby said.
‘Police? Fire? Ambulance?’
‘No, none of those,’ Selby said. ‘I don’t know if you can help me.’
‘We can help you with any emergency, sir, just tell us what it is.’
‘Well I think my owners — I mean, the people I live with — have been abducted by aliens.’
‘Domestic or extraterrestrial?’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Were they aliens from somewhere on the earth or from outer space?’
‘Outer space, I think,’ Selby said. ‘They took off in a spaceship.’
‘Putting you through,’ the voice said.
The next voice Selby heard said, ‘You have reached the Extraterrestrial Unit of the Department of Alien Enquiries. If you wish to speak to someone about buying a copy of our Guide to the Identification of Extraterrestrial Aliens, press 1. If you wish to know where the most recent extraterrestrial sightings have taken place, press 2. If you wish to hear the sound of an extraterrestrial spaceship taking off, press 3. If you are going to attend the Annual Extraterrestrial Conference and require a hotel booking, press 4 — please have your credit card ready—’
