by Duncan Ball
‘What does he mean finally?’ Selby thought. ‘I could never stand the ghastly things.’
‘I’ve got an idea,’ Mrs Trifle said, putting down the cardboard box she was carrying. ‘Why don’t we see if he likes the same kind of food that we like?’
‘Good idea,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘We’ll give him a treat. Speaking of treats, isn’t it about time we stocked up on some of our favourite goodies? Let’s go out right now and buy some quadruple chocolate fudge mix, and raspberry ripple icecream, and the right spices to make the kind of peanut prawns they make at The Spicy Onion Restaurant.’
‘Oh, this is wonderful!’ Selby thought. ‘At last they’re going to give me some decent food! Oh joy, oh joy, oh happy day!’
‘Hadn’t we better see how many Dry-Mouth Dog Biscuits there are in the big bag next to the fridge?’ Mrs Trifle asked. ‘I’d hate to find he liked our food when there were still lots of dog biscuits left. What would we do with them?’
‘I’m pretty sure it’s almost empty,’ Dr Trifle said, ‘so now would be the perfect time to see if he wants to change over. By the way, what are all those things in that box you were carrying.’
‘Nothing much,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Just some odds and ends I bought at the Trash and Carry fundraising sale at Bogusville Primary School. There’s a pack of cards with the aces and kings missing, an egg-beater with only one beater, an old pack of balloons that have gone all hard, and a funny old brass lamp. It’s mostly rubbish, but the money will go to the school library so it’s a good cause.’
‘That lamp certainly is rubbish,’ Dr Trifle said, picking it up. ‘It doesn’t even have a place to put in a light globe and there’s no plug to plug it in.’
‘It’s not that sort of lamp, dear. It’s the old old sort that you fill with oil and then light where this little hole is. In fact, it will be quite pretty when you get that ugly spot off the side.’
‘That’s what I call wishful thinking,’ Dr Trifle said, picking at the spot with his fingernail. ‘This will never come off. The best thing to do is just throw it out.’
‘I suppose you’re right,’ Mrs Trifle sighed. ‘Now come along with me. Let’s go goodies shopping.’
Minutes later the Trifles had driven away and Selby was standing on his hind legs looking at the lamp.
‘Mrs Trifle is right,’ he said to himself. ‘This lamp could be pretty if it wasn’t for that spot on the side. I wonder if I can get rid of it. It’s the least I can do since the Trifles are out buying yummy food for me.’
Selby picked up a rag and started polishing the side of the lamp. He polished for a minute and could see no difference.
‘Dr Trifle was right,’ he said. ‘This thing will never come off. Oh, I do wish I could get rid of it.’
And as he polished harder, he became aware of a strange humming in the air. The humming grew louder and louder and the lamp began to glow and shake violently.
‘What’s this? What’s happening?’ he said.
Smoke poured from the lamp’s spout and spiralled up into the middle of the room. Selby watched as it formed itself into the figure of a man. His arms were folded and he wore a turban. Selby froze in amazement.
‘I am the genie of the lamp,’ the genie announced, ‘and I have come to grant you three wishes.’
‘You’re — you’re not a trick are you?’ Selby stammered.
‘No, Master, I am a real genie and I am your humble servant. Your wish is my command.’
With this, the genie pointed to the spot on the side of the lamp and, as he did, there was a sudden zap! and the spot was gone.
‘You now have two wishes left,’ the genie said.
‘Two?’ Selby said, looking carefully at the lamp and finding no trace of the spot. ‘Didn’t you say three?’
‘Yes, but you wished that the spot was gone, Master.’
‘But wait a minute, I said that before you came out of the lamp.’
‘I beg your pardon, Sir, but I was on my way when you wished it so it still counts. Perhaps you should have waited until I arrived to start wishing.’
‘Arrived? But I didn’t know you were coming.’
‘I am terribly sorry but there’s nothing I can do now. I would just advise you to use your remaining wishes wisely. What will your second wish be, Master?’
Selby remembered a genie in a lamp story he’d seen on TV.
‘Okay, here’s my next wish,’ he said. ‘I wish that every wish I ever wish, for the rest of my life, will come true’
The genie laughed politely and then said, ‘That’s what we call a multiple wish and I’m afraid that multiple wishes are against the rules.’
‘There are rules?’
‘Yes, there are rules,’ the genie sighed. He took a scroll out from his belt and unrolled part of it. ‘Wish Rule Section 3, Article 34A: “The wisher shall be confined to a single wish at any one wishing.”’
‘What are you?’ Selby asked. ‘A genie or a lawyer?’
‘I’m a genie who knows the rules, Master. What will your second wish be?’
‘I only wish I hadn’t wished that one about getting rid of the spot,’ Selby mumbled. ‘Okay now —?’
‘Your wish is my command,’ the genie announced.
Zap!
Suddenly, the spot reappeared on the lamp. Selby looked at it and then at the genie.
‘Does this mean that I have all three wishes again?’
‘No, of course not.’
‘Why not? I just said that I wished I hadn’t wished that. So I unwished a wish.’
The genie unrolled the scroll again.
‘Section 6, Article 29, as amended states: “The wishing to undo any wish that has hitherto been granted shall be deemed a wish in itself.”’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘There’s no such thing as unwishing,’ the genie said. ‘Would you please use your third and last wish and this time I’d recommend that you do it wisely, Master.’
Selby looked at the genie.
‘You sound very much like a certain princess I met once. She had a wishing ring … oh, never mind,’ Selby said. ‘I’ve got it. I wish for all three wishes back.’
‘Section 2, Subsection 24, Article 3, Clause 1,’ The genie sighed. ‘“The restoration of wishes shall not be the subject of a wish itself.” You really don’t know what to wish for, do you, Master?’
Selby paced around the floor for a moment.
‘What do people usually ask for?’ he asked.
‘Anything. A donkey, for example.’
‘Someone wished for a donkey?’
‘Yes, but that was many many years ago. You’d probably prefer a fast sports car.’
‘Okay, give me a dozen of them,’ Selby said. ‘All different colours.’
‘Section 1, Article 2: “Each item wished for constitutes one wish.” Do you want a sports car?’
‘No,’ Selby said, ‘what am I going to do with a sports car? Let’s see: a bigger house? No, this one is big enough. How about the Trifles and me being happy forever after? No, that would be three wishes. How about just me being happy? No, that wouldn’t be fair. Besides, I’m happy enough. How about …’
‘Master, will you please hurry up?’
‘Don’t hassle me,’ Selby said, ‘I’m thinking. Why don’t you go back in the lamp and wait till I’m ready?’
‘Is that a wish?’
‘No! Of course it’s not a wish! Don’t you dare count it as a wish! I didn’t say the word “wish”’ Selby said. ‘I said, ‘“Why don’t you.” ‘
‘Section 4, Article 13, The Synonym Rule —’
‘The what rule?’
‘Synonym. A synonym is a word that means the same thing as another word. If you use words like “I want” or “I hope” or “I’d like” instead of “I wish” then they count.’
‘But all I said was “Why don’t you?” It’s just a question.’
The genie looked at the scroll again.
‘Secti
on 6, Article 6, Rhetorical Questions —’
‘What’s that?’
‘That’s when you ask a question that isn’t really a question,’ the genie explained. ‘Like if I said, “Why don’t you drop dead?” then I’m not really asking a question at all. What I’m saying is “drop dead”. You said “Why don’t I go back in the lamp?” which means “go back in the lamp” and therefore it is a wish so I bid you goodbye.’
The genie started to wave goodbye and swirl back into the lamp.
‘Stop! Come back! This isn’t fair! I haven’t even got one wish yet! Please, I beg you!’
The genie stopped swirling and then unswirled.
‘All right, Master,’ he said. ‘I’ll let you get away with it this time. What do you wish?’
Suddenly Selby saw the Trifles’ car pull into the driveway.
‘You’d better go back in the lamp — no, wait! That’s not a wish. It would be good if you went — no, no.’
‘What are you trying to say?’
‘My owners, the Trifles, are coming home and I don’t want them to see you!’ Selby said, as he watched the Trifles gather armloads of groceries from the boot of the car.
‘Why not, Master?’
‘Because they don’t know that I know how to talk. I’m keeping it a secret, see?’
‘Oh, this could be interesting.’
‘So, if you could just wait inside — that’s not a wish! — till they go out again …’
‘Sorry.’
‘Sorry what?’ Selby said, watching anxiously as the Trifles approached the front door.
‘Section 1, Article 1: “The genie is only to leave the lamp once every hundred years.” If I go back then it’s bye-bye for another hundred years.’
‘But what am I going to do?’
Selby spoke in a loud whisper because at that very moment Dr Trifle’s hand was reaching out for the doorknob —
‘Make it quick, Master,’ the genie whispered.
‘I don’t know what to wish for!’ Selby whispered back.
‘What do you really need, Master?’
‘I don’t know! That’s the point! I can’t think of anything.’
The door began began opening and then Dr Trifle stepped back to let Mrs Trifle go ahead because she was carrying more groceries.
‘How about food? Everyone likes food, Master,’ the genie said. ‘How about a year’s supply of those dog biscuits?’
‘Dog biscuits! That would be the very last thing I’d wish for!’ Selby squealed.
‘Your last wish?’ the genie said. ‘Your wish is my command.’
‘No, now hang on —’
Zap!
‘Oh no!’ Selby screamed silently in his brain as the genie swirled back into the lamp just as the Trifles came into the room. ‘I didn’t mean it! Come back! Oh, woe woe woe.’
‘Lots and lots of goodies for us and for you, Selby,’ Dr Trifle said, putting a bag on the counter. ‘You’re going to love caramel custard ice-cream, and heavenly rich chocolate biscuits, and a lemon layer cake with hundreds and thousands.’
Mrs Trifle put down her bags and went over to the big bag of Dry-Mouth Dog Biscuits.
‘I thought you said this was almost empty?’ she said to Dr Trifle.
‘Well, I thought it was,’ said Dr Trifle, scratching his head.
‘It’s full to the brim. There must be a year’s supply in here,’ Mrs Trifle said, bending down to pat Selby. ‘I did want to try you out on our sort of food,’ she added. ‘But you probably wouldn’t like it anyway. Pets prefer pet food, and I know you just love those Dry-Mouth Dog Biscuits.’
‘Oh, woe,’ Selby thought, as he lay down to chew unhappily on a dog biscuit. ‘The only thing I wish right now is that that stupid genie had never come out of the lamp!’
Paw note: For a story about a wishing ring see ‘Selby Snaps!’ in the book Selby Snaps! S
I Dreamt I Woke Up Very Small
I dreamt I woke up very small
Went to the loo and had a fall
Into a giant toilet bowl.
I reached out for the toilet roll
And pulled and pulled and pulled some more
Till there was just an empty core.
I thrashed about but always slipped
My fingers couldn’t get a grip.
Even on my tippy toes
The water lapped against my nose!
With lips pressed tight against my teeth
I screamed, ‘Oh thave me! Thave me, pleath!’
With one great leap I grabbed the shelf
Kerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrslosh!
I think I flushed myself!
Selby Sleep-talks
It was the middle of the night and Selby was secretly answering emails from kids on the Trifles’ computer. This is what he wrote:
HIYA TORY, THANX FOR YOUR EMAIL. AS I TOLD YOU BEFORE, I CAN’T TELL YOU MY REAL NAME OR WHAT TOWN BOGUSVILLE REALLY IS. I NEVER TELL ANYONE ANYTHING ABOUT ME EVER. (EXCEPT WHAT YOU READ IN THE STORIES.) EVEN DUNCAN BALL DOESN’T KNOW MY REAL NAME OR WHERE I LIVE. I’M AFRAID THAT SOME CLEVER PERSON (LIKE YOU) MIGHT FIND ME AND THEN THE WORD WOULD GET OUT AND THERE WOULD BE BUSLOADS OF PEOPLE COMING HERE AND TAKING PICTURES.
Suddenly Selby heard a noise from the other end of the house.
‘Uh-oh,’ he thought. ‘Dr or Mrs Trifle must have woken up.’
He listened for a moment.
‘No, probably just the wind. Now, where was I?’
ALSO THE TRIFLES MIGHT PUT ME TO WORK
WASHING DISHES AND MAKING BEDS AND THAT.
AND SOMEBODY MIGHT DOGNAP ME AND HOLD ME
FOR RANSOM. I KNOW THAT YOU PROMISED
THAT YOU’D NEVER TELL ANYONE MY REAL
NAME IF I TOLD YOU, BUT WHAT IF YOU
TALKED IN YOUR SLEEP? SOMEONE MIGHT HEAR
YOU AND THEN TELL EVERYBODY.
Selby chuckled to himself.
Just then there were footsteps in the hallway. Selby quickly shut down the computer and lay down on the floor.
‘I’ll pretend I’m sleeping,’ he thought. ‘I know it’s a bit odd me sleeping in the office, but that’s okay. In a (yawn) minute I won’t (yawn) have to pretend to sleep at all because I’ll really (yawn) be asleep.’
Minutes later, Selby heard the toilet flush and footsteps going back to the bedroom.
‘False alarm,’ he thought. ‘I’d better answer some more emails. I’m sooooooo far behind! But wait, I just thought of something. I just told Tory that she might talk in her sleep and give away my secret. What if I talked in my sleep and somebody heard me?! Gulp. Maybe I already talk in my sleep.’
Selby went to the kitchen and stared at the Dry-Mouth Dog Biscuits in his bowl.
‘I can’t possibly talk in my sleep,’ he thought. ‘The Trifles would have heard me by now. But what if they have and they just haven’t said anything?’
Selby got an ice-cream container from the freezer and had a couple of licks.
‘They would have said something, wouldn’t they?’ he wondered.
Selby’s mind began to race. He imagined that he’d slept late one morning. He was just waking up but hadn’t opened his eyes yet. He could hear the Trifles talking.
‘Look at Selby snoozing away without a care in the world,’ Mrs Trifle said.
‘He’s a cutie, all right,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘Do you suppose he’s getting old? He sleeps later and later in the morning.’
‘Little do they know that I was up half the night answering emails,’ Selby thought.
‘Do you think he’ll ever tell us?’ Mrs Trifle asked.
‘Shhhhhh,’ Dr Trifle warned. ‘He might hear you.’
‘Tell them what?’ Selby thought. ‘What are they on about.’
‘He can’t keep this up forever,’ Mrs Trifle said.
‘He’s kept it up for this long. I reckon he could keep it up for quite a while — unless he makes a major slip-up,’ Dr Trifle said.
‘Tell me,’ Mrs Trifle said, ‘were y
ou shocked when he talked in his sleep?’
‘Oh, no!’ Selby thought. ‘They know! They heard me sleep-talking! Gulp.’
‘Of course I was,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘I didn’t believe it until I saw his lips were moving.’
‘I half suspected it,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘I’ve noticed a lot of suspicious things over the years. Why do you suppose that our own dear Selby insists on keeping it a secret — from us?’
‘Maybe he’s just waiting for the right moment to tell us.’
‘Haven’t we been good enough to him?’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘I can’t believe he’s being so dishonest, disloyal and untrusting.’
‘Gulp.’ Selby felt bad. ‘Dishonest? Disloyal? Untrusting? How could they possibly think I don’t trust them? Come to think of it, I don’t trust them. They might make me work. Now I feel awful. But wait, I’m only imagining this. Phew! They don’t really know I can talk.’
Selby put away the ice-cream container and curled up on his mat.
‘Now I’m afraid to go to sleep because I might sleep-talk,’ he thought.
Selby looked at the clock.
‘It’s three o’clock in the morning. If I fall asleep now I’ll sleep till midday. That means that the Trifles will be sitting here while I’m still asleep and they’ll hear me if I sleep-talk. I know, I’ll just have to sleep outside.’
Just then there was a crack of thunder and the sound of rain bucketing down.
‘Great! There goes that idea. I know, I’ll stay up all night. Then I’ll go to sleep tomorrow night when the Trifles go to bed. That way they won’t hear me talk in my sleep because they’ll be sleeping too.’
Selby waited through the night. He had to keep himself busy because he was so tired. He read some of Mrs Trifle’s magazines and then turned the TV on very low. After ten minutes of late-night TV he was almost asleep so Selby decided to go back into the office to do some more work. He was very happy when the sun started to lighten the sky. Finally Dr and Mrs Trifle got up, put some more dog biscuits in Selby’s bowl, and sat down to breakfast.
‘Selby doesn’t look well,’ Mrs Trifle said.
‘No, he doesn’t,’ Dr Trifle replied, touching Selby’s nose.
