Selby Scrambled (8 page)

Selby paced around the trifles’ study.

‘I Don’t want to hurt her feelings,’ He thought. ‘She sounds like a nice kid. How can i make her understand that if i tell anyone my real name I’ll never feel safe again? that every time a car door opens in the middle of the night I’ll wake up in a panic? that I’ll never be able to go out without looking at people and wondering if they’re about to dognap me?’

‘There are times when I just have to be firm,’ Selby thought. ‘Oh, no, she’s written back already.’

‘Poor Fleur,’ Selby thought. ‘It’s tragic when a pet dies. I wish I could cheer her up. Maybe I should tell her my name after all. What harm could it do? Hmmm, I’d better think about it.

I think it’s time for a good long thinkingwalk.’

Selby turned off the computer and started walking. He walked and he walked and he walked and as he walked, he talked and talked to himself.

It went something like this:

‘Okay, let’s just say that I tell Fleur my name and she tells her parents.

Hey, Mum, Dad, guess what? Selby is a real dog! I emailed him and he told me his real name!

Her mother would say,
Don’t be silly. He’s a made-up dog. There’s no such thing as a talking dog.

But, Mum, there is! Selby rings up Duncan Ball and tells him his stories. Duncan writes them down. The books are true!

If you say so, dear.

He lives in a country town here in Australia. Now that I know his name we could find him.

Do you know how many towns there are in Australia? There must be thousands of them. Even if he really did exist and you did know his name it could take years to find him.

We could pay a private detective. Selby’s real name is kinda weird. A detective could find him, I’m sure.

Do you know how much private detectives charge, Fleur
? her dad would say.
And it could take months, or even years. Then what if this Selby doesn’t really exist?

Oh, I guess you’re right. Maybe we shouldn’t look for him.

‘No grown-up is going to believe a kid when she says that I’m a real talking dog,’ Selby thought. ‘Even her friends won’t believe her.’

Selby turned and started for home. He chuckled to himself as he thought of the evil genius who Fleur had made up, the one who owned lots of TV stations. Selby pictured an old man sitting at a huge desk, running his bony fingers through his long, grey hair and staring at his computer. He pictured the man cackling as he pretended to be a little girl in order to get Selby to tell him his real name.

‘I love kids,’ Selby thought. ‘They have such great imaginations.’

That night when the Trifles were sound asleep, Selby sneaked into the study and turned
on the computer once again. And this is what he wrote:

‘Phew!’ Selby phewed. ‘I feel good now. I hope that cheers her up. And it was really so easy.’

Meanwhile, somewhere at the top of the tallest building in the biggest city in the world an evil genius sat behind his enormous desk. He stared at a computer screen and he cackled as he ran his bony fingers through his long, grey hair.

‘Sucked in!’ he cried. ‘Dead budgie. Sad little Fleur. What a mug that mutt is. I practically told him who sad little “Fleur” really was — me! I even mentioned April Fools’ Day, for pity’s sake. Now who’s the April fool? You stupid dog! I’ll teach you to match wits with a rich and powerful genius.’

The old man pushed a button on his desk and a beautiful young woman appeared in the doorway.

‘You seem very happy, sir,’ she said.

‘Yes, Olivia, I’ve just got myself a dog.’

‘But you hate dogs, sir.’

‘This is no ordinary dog. This is the most
extraordinary
dog in the world. And he is about to make me very very rich.’

‘But you’re already very very rich, sir.’

‘True, but I am only the
second
richest person in the world. This dog is about to make me the
richest.
Get me a team of private detectives —
get a hundred of them. Make that a thousand. See if the police will get involved. There’s no time to waste. We’re going on a dog hunt.’

‘Do you mean you don’t know where this new dog of yours is?’

‘I know that he lives in a country town somewhere in Australia. His name is Selby
— a very unusual name. We’ll soon find him and get him to talk. And when he talks, everyone in the world will be watching him on my TV stations.’

‘This dog talks?’

‘Oh, yes,’ the old man said. ‘He certainly does.’

A few days later Mrs Trifle came home late from work after a long meeting.

‘Have you heard the news?’ Dr Trifle said. ‘Something very exciting is happening!’

‘What is it?’

‘Do you know the dog in those books? Selby, the talking dog?’

‘Yes, of course. Everyone knows Selby. I’ve often thought that he was a bit like our Selby — only our Selby can’t talk. Why?’

‘Well, it turns out that he’s real. He is an actual real live talking dog.’

‘Noooooooo!’ Mrs Trifle exclaimed. ‘How can a dog talk?’

‘Apparently it’s true. There’s this live TV show and they reckon they’ve found him. They’re about to catch him and get him to talk. Quick! It’s on TV right now. Everyone in the whole world is watching.’

Dr and Mrs Trifle dashed to the TV and watched a team of detectives quietly surround a house under the cover of darkness.

‘That’s him now,’ one of the detectives whispered. ‘He’s been out for a walk and he’s coming home. Get ready to grab him.’

‘But, hang on, isn’t that the mayor’s dog?’

‘Don’t worry about the mayor. We’re working for Mr Big, and Mr Big doesn’t worry about little mayors of dinky little Australian towns.’

‘But what if the dog won’t talk?’

‘After a few days under a spotlight and not
being able to sleep, he’ll talk. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll hypnotise him. Don’t you worry, one way or another that mongrel will spill the beans.’

Dr and Mrs Trifle watched as the dog walked towards the house. Suddenly floodlights lit up the front yard.

‘Get him, guys!’ a detective yelled, throwing a net over the unsuspecting dog.

’Goodness me,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘Now wait just a minute! Isn’t that Denis Dorset’s dog, Powderpuff?’