by Duncan Ball
‘Knoffle must be way ahead by now,’ he thought. ‘Let him win, I don’t care. Hey, this is kind of fun!’
Selby tore by the pit and barely glimpsed the terrified faces of the Trifles.
‘I’m glad I was going so fast,’ he thought. ‘They could have seen that I’m actually driving this thing if I’d been going any slower!’
Suddenly Awful Knoffle’s car loomed up ahead. Selby was gaining on him.
‘I’ll have to get by him,’ Selby thought.
Selby pulled up to overtake the leader but Awful’s car suddenly moved to the side to cut him off.
‘Don’t do that, you idiot!’ Selby screamed. ‘I can’t slow this thing down! You’ll get us all killed.’
Awful cut one way and then the other, putting on bursts of speed but then falling back.
‘This baby has too good an engine in it,’ Selby thought. ‘I can’t go slow enough to pull back. There’s nothing I can do but try to get by him. It will be just like battling with The Phantom Warrior!’
Into the straight the two cars sped with Awful just ahead, weaving from side to side in front. Then, just when they were out of sight of the officials, Awful suddenly put his car into a lower gear, sending black smoke and oil into the air.
‘Oh, no! It’s covering the windscreen,’ Selby screamed as he put his head up in the wind. ‘I can’t see because of the smoke and dust!’
Selby looked around for the Screen-Clear lever. He started pulling and pushing everything on the dashboard. Lights flashed, the horn blared and then a soapy spray shot up, clearing the windscreen but also hitting Selby in the face.
‘Oh, great,’ he thought.
Selby blinked away the soap as his car moved up again on Awful Knoffle. This time Selby moved towards the inside of the track and then, quick as a flash, just as Awful cut in, Selby steered out and went around on the other side.
Neck and neck they tore towards the finish line.
‘Hey, Awful!’ Selby yelled, looking over at the other driver. ‘Look at me!’
Awful Knoffle looked over at Selby and screamed, ‘Help! It’s a dog! There’s a dog driving a car! — And talking!’
‘That’s right!’ Selby yelled back. ‘And I’m going to beat you, you slacker!’
The stunned Knoffle let out a scream of terror and let up on his accelerator. He could only watch as Selby’s car shot ahead and over the finish line.
Selby did a victory lap as he shook the driver awake.
‘Wake up, P-H!’ he yelled. ‘We won!’
Slowly P-H came to and straightened up. He lifted his foot from the accelerator pedal.
‘What happened?’ P-H asked when he pulled into the pit. ‘I don’t remember anything.’
‘You won, that’s what happened,’ the manager said.
‘Oh, Selby!’ Mrs Trifle cried, pulling him off the roll-bar. ‘Thank goodness you’re not hurt!’
P-H climbed slowly out of the car.
‘What’s he doing here?’ he asked. ‘Was he there when I won the race?’
‘Well, yes, as a matter of fact, he was,’ Dr Trifle said.
‘Didn’t I tell you he was good luck?’ P-H said.
When the Trifles and Selby got back to Bogusville Selby went off for a walk by himself.
He stopped and sat on a rock enjoying the peace and quiet of the country. He licked his paw, still tasting the champagne P-H had sprayed from the winner’s platform at the end of the race.
Then, looking around to make sure no one was listening, Selby cried out: ‘I won! I won! I am the greatest!’
Paw note: She had. See ‘The Diabolical Disappearing Dog’ in the book Selby Speaks. S
Shotgun Sally
‘They’re going to sack one of our two police officers,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘The police commissioner says there isn’t enough crime in Bogusville for two of them.’
‘But what if there’s suddenly lots of crime?’ Dr Trifle asked.
‘That’s what worries me. But I’m just the mayor of Bogusville. The commissioner in the city makes all these decisions, not me.’
‘So who’s going to lose his job, Sergeant Short or Constable Long?’
‘Probably Constable Long because he’s the junior officer. It’s difficult because they’re cousins and it could cause family troubles,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Speaking of which, their grandmother, Sally Short, has just been let out of prison and Sergeant Short asked if she could stay with us.’
‘Sally Short?!’ Dr Trifle exclaimed. ‘But isn’t she “Shotgun Sally”, the famous bank robber?’
‘That’s her. Neither Sergeant Short nor Constable Long has a spare room for her at the moment. Is it okay with you?’
‘Well, yes … I guess so.’
‘Good, because here she comes now,’ Mrs Trifle said.
A police car pulled into the driveway. Sergeant Short helped a little old grey-haired lady out of the car.
‘That’s her!’ Selby thought. ‘That’s Shotgun Sally! I read about her in a book called Famous Granny Criminals. They used to call her “The Human Crime Wave”.’
‘Perhaps we should put your jewellery in a safe place?’ Dr Trifle said. ‘And the camera, the TV, the video and those old spoons your mother gave us?’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Sergeant Short told me that he’s sure his grandmother won’t go back to her old ways. Look at her there clutching her handbag. She may have been a famous bank robber once but she’s just a sweet little old lady now.’
‘I don’t know about sweet little old ladies,’ Selby thought, remembering the sweet little old lady criminal he’d once met. ‘The Trifles are too trusting.’
‘What do we say to her?’ Dr Trifle asked. ‘I’ve never talked to a bank robber before.’
‘Just talk to her like a normal person,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Only maybe we shouldn’t mention prison. It might embarrass her.’
The doorbell rang.
‘Sergeant Short,’ Mrs Trifle said, opening the door,’ it’s good to see you.’
‘Dr and Mrs Trifle,’ Sergeant Short said, ‘I’d like you to meet my grandmother, Mrs Short.’
‘Lovely to meet you, Mrs Short,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘Isn’t it a nice day to be out — I mean …’
‘He means out and about,’ Mrs Trifle interrupted, ‘driving around in the country. Yes, free …’
‘Free and easy,’ Dr Trifle said quickly. ‘Not a care in the world. Better than being cooped up in a … in a …’
‘House,’ Mrs Trifle said.
Sally Short looked back and forth at the embarrassed Dr and Mrs Trifle.
‘Please don’t call me Mrs Short,’ she said very politely. ‘Call me Sally or Shotgun Sally. I used to be a bank robber and I’ve been in the nick for the past twenty-five years.’
‘The what?’ Mrs Trifle asked.
‘Oh, I’m sorry, that’s slang for prison: the nick, the slammer, the jug, the pen, the clink, the joint, the big house, in stir, doing time.’
‘I can’t believe it,’ Selby thought. ‘She came right out with it.’
That evening at dinner, Shotgun Sally talked about her life.
‘I was a very naughty lady,’ she said. ‘I used to break into cars and houses and I robbed quite a few banks. I used to go to little country towns. They usually only had one police station and only one or two coppers.’
‘Like Bogusville,’ Dr Trifle said.
‘Yes, I guess so. There was usually a bank near the cop shop.’
‘Like Bogusville’s bank,’ Mrs Trifle said.
‘I’d trick the coppers into leaving the station and then I’d rush into the bank, pull out my gun, and yell “This is a stick-up!” The newspaper called me “Shotgun” but I only ever used a pretend gun without bullets. Anyway, my grandsons were the ones who dobbed me in,’ the woman said. ‘They worked out that it was me doing the robbing. You see, after every bank job I always gave them presents.’
‘So they were very clever even when they
were kids,’ Dr Trifle said.
‘Well it didn’t take much brains — especially after they found my mask, my pretend shotgun, and stacks and stacks of money under my bed,’ Sally Short said. ‘So off I went to prison. But I’ve never held it against them.’
‘Being in prison must be awful,’ Mrs Trifle said.
‘Terrible. But I took courses in writing. I was thinking of writing about my life as a bank robber.’
‘That would be a very interesting book,’ Dr Trifle said.
‘Yes, but my problem is trying to remember things that far back. I can’t really remember how I felt when I committed my crimes. I don’t know what I was thinking and all those writer things.’
She looked down and noticed Selby.
‘I love dogs,’ she said. ‘I haven’t had a pat of one for a long time. What’s the little guy’s name?’
‘Selby.’
‘Selby. Sellllllllllllby. A gorgeous name for a handsome dog.’
Shotgun Sally reached down and patted Selby. Then she gave him a big, embarrassing kiss on the forehead.
‘Gosh,’ Selby thought. ‘She isn’t so terrible after all. She really is a sweet little old lady.’
All that week, the old woman took Selby for long walks along Bogusville Creek and all around town. Selby started to feel very close to her. ‘She talks to me as if I’m a friend,’ he thought.
One day Sally said, ‘Hey, what do you say we go to the library? I need some bedtime reading.’
When they got there, instead of leaving Selby outside, the way the Trifles always did, Sally brought him right into where all the books were. Selby was delighted.
‘I love this!’ Selby thought. ‘Wouldn’t it be great to just pick any book I wanted and take it home and read it? Not much chance of that, I’m afraid.’
Sally carried some books home. Selby read the titles. ‘Hmmm, How to Rob a Bank, I can see why they wouldn’t have that one in the prison library,’ he chuckled to himself. ‘Bank Robbing Made Easy, Modern Bank Robbing Methods, and The Ins and Outs of Successful Bank Robbing. They’re not my kind of books but it’s nice that Sally’s found something she likes to help read herself to sleep.’
Selby woke up the next morning to the sound of the car engine starting.
‘Hey, Sally’s borrowing the Trifles’ car. She’s going somewhere without me. Stop! I want to go too.’
Selby dashed out of the house.
‘Selby,’ the old woman said. ‘You want to come along, do you? Hop in.’
They drove to a quiet street not far away. Then Shotgun Sally stopped the car.
‘You stay here,’ she said. ‘I’ll just be a minute.’
Shotgun Sally got out of the car and walked a short distance to where there was an expensive car parked on the street. She looked around and then bent down.
‘The way she’s looking at it, she must be interested in locks on car doors,’ Selby said, with a yawn. ‘Look, she’s getting something out of her handbag. I wonder what she’s doing?’
As Selby watched, the fog slowly lifted from his brain.
‘Good grief!’ Selby said. ‘I bet she’s got car-breaking-into tools in her handbag! Oh, no, she’s going back to her old ways!’
Selby opened the glovebox. He knew this was where Mrs Trifle kept her mobile phone. She only used it if her car broke down.
‘I hate this,’ Selby said, dialling the police, ‘but I’ve got to stop her or she’ll end up back in jail!’
‘Bogusville Police,’ a voice said. ‘Sergeant Short speaking.’ ‘Emergency!’ Selby said. ‘Your — I mean — a lady is about to break into a car in Cockatoo Parade.’
‘Who is this?’
‘Never mind. Just get over here!’
Selby quickly put the phone back in the glovebox. Then, to his amazement, the old woman hurried back to the Trifles’ car.
‘Let’s get out of here before someone calls the cops,’ she said, revving up the engine.
Shotgun Sally tore off down the street and to the other side of town where she pulled in to another quiet street. She got out of the car and went up to the front of a big empty house. She peered in through the front window. Then she got something small out of her handbag.’
‘I can’t see it,’ Selby squealed, ‘but I reckon it’s burglars’ tools! She’s going to break into that house!’
Selby grabbed the phone again and dialled.
‘Bogusville Police. Constable Long speaking.’
‘There’s someone breaking into a house! Twenty-seven Hillview Street. Get over here and make it snappy!’
Selby was still holding the phone to his ear when Shotgun Sally suddenly turned around and strode back towards the car.
‘She’s stopped,’ Selby thought. ‘She must think that someone saw her and called the cops — and she’s right!’
‘We’re outta here, Selby!’ the woman said, jumping into the car and racing to another side of town.
This time the old woman pulled up at the front gates to Mascara Mansion and made her way up to the huge front door.
Again, Selby was on the phone.
‘Burglary!’ he yelled. ‘Someone’s breaking into Mascara Mansion! Drop everything and get over here!’
Once again, Shotgun Sally stopped what she was doing and got back in the car. And once again, they sped off, this time towards town.
‘Oh, no!’ Selby thought as they pulled up near the Bogusville Bank.
Sally grabbed her handbag and headed down the street towards the bank.
‘She’s up to her old tricks again! She pretended to break into a car and two houses so that someone would call the police and they’d leave the station! Now she’s going to rob the bank! She’s getting back at her grandsons by robbing a bank right near the cop shop! And I played right into her hands!’
Again Selby grabbed the mobile.
‘Police Car Number One, Sergeant Short here.’
‘The Bogusville Bank is about to be robbed!’ Selby yelled.
‘Who is this?’ Sergeant Short demanded.
‘Never mind. Just come to the bank!’
Selby jumped out of the car.
‘I’ve got to get there before she does!’ he thought as he streaked past her. ‘I’ve got to warn them! I’ve got to talk even if I give away my secret.’
Selby raced into the bank. Ahead of him was a long queue of people.
Selby cleared his throat.
‘There’s about to be a stick-up!’ he screamed.
The customers turned around, looking in every direction.
‘It’s a stick-up!’ one of the customers shouted.
‘Oh, no, a stick-up!’ someone else screamed. ‘Let’s get out of here!’
‘We’re being robbed!’ one of the tellers yelled.
Suddenly panic broke out and alarms went off. People ran out of the bank or dived to the floor and put their hands over their heads. Security screens went up between the tellers and the customers.
Then Shotgun Sally strode into the bank, holding her handbag.
‘What is going on here?’ she asked.
‘There was a bank robber!’ someone replied.
In that instant, Sergeant Short and Constable Long burst into the bank behind her.
‘Granny! It’s you!’ Constable Long yelled.
‘So, you’re at it again!’ her other grandson said. ‘Drop the bag and put your hands in the air, Granny!’
‘What are you boys talking about?’ she asked. ‘I wasn’t robbing any bank I was …’ Shotgun Sally reached into her handbag.
‘She’s got a gun!’ Constable Long yelled. ‘Drop it, Gran, or I’ll blast you!’
‘No, you won’t, you silly boy,’ she said, taking out a small notepad and a pencil. ‘I’ll tell you why I’m in here. It’s because I haven’t been in a bank for many years and I was taking notes so I can write the story of my life. I was trying to remember what it was like back when I was a criminal. Now off you go, boys, the real bank robber could be miles
away by now.’
‘Or maybe he just wishes he was,’ Selby thought.
‘Wasn’t it lovely having Shotgun Sally staying with us?’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘She really was a sweet little old lady, wasn’t she?’
‘She certainly was,’ Dr Trifle agreed. ‘And the nice thing is that Constable Long found out while she was here that he gets to keep his job.’
‘I know,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘It seems that the police commissioner heard about our recent crime wave and thinks that Bogusville needs two police officers. Imagine having an attempted car break-in, two attempted burglaries, and an attempted bank robbery all in the space of half an hour.’
‘Yes, and it’s awful to think that the culprit might be someone who lives right here in Bogusville,’ Dr Trifle said, looking around nervously. ‘He might be right nearby.’
‘And maybe he’s even nearer than you think,’ thought Selby with a blush.
Paw note: See ‘Selby’s New York Adventure’ in Selby Splits. S
A Gnome Poem
A stony silent garden gnome
Set out to write a palindrome
He threw some letters in his hat
Then read them out from front to back
He read them over, wrong way round.
But still they made no sense, he found.
He mixed them up and tried again
Before he finally chucked it in.
“I quit!” he cried, “I should have known
A gnome just can’t write palindromes.
I can’t imagine what is worse
Than trying to write a thing inverse!”
He climbed back on his rock in shame
But not before he wrote his name:
EMONG NEDRAGA, A GARDEN GNOME
(By chance he’d found his palindrome. )
Paw note: A palindrome is a word or a verse that reads the same backwards as forwards. S
Selby’s Stardom
‘Someone just rang to ask if it’s okay for Selby to be in a movie,’ Dr Trifle said to Mrs Trifle.
Selby was just coming in from the back yard when he heard the news.
‘Me? In a movie?’ he thought. ‘This is sooooooo exciting!’
