Selby Spacedog (12 page)

‘Speaking of trouble: here comes Aunt Jetty! I’d better run and hide,’ he thought. ‘Now wait a minute. This time I’m not running and I’m not hiding — I’m just going to sit back and relax.’

‘I’ve written a story,’ Aunt Jetty announced as she flounced in the door. ‘A children’s story.’

‘What’s it about?’ asked Mrs Trifle.

‘It’s got a dog in it. Stories with dogs in them are always a hit with kids. They can’t miss. And it’s very realistic. So it should be a real winner. I’ll get it published and soon the kiddies will be begging me for more stories. It shouldn’t be long before I’m incredibly famous and even more incredibly rich.’

‘May I read it?’ asked Mrs Trifle.

‘Of course. That’s why I’m here,’ Aunt Jetty said. ‘
Kiddywinks Weekly Magazine
said they’d publish it if I can get it to them by tomorrow morning but I need someone to check it for mistakes. I’ll tell you a little about it first. It’s about a beautiful, intelligent, sophisticated and witty woman named Aunt Betty. She’s a bit like
me actually. And she has a sister who’s quite a nice person really.’

‘Thank you,’ Mrs Trifle said.

‘The sister has a dog named
Shelby.
He’s a little light-on in the brains department,’ Aunt Jetty said, pointing to her head.

‘You mean he’s not very bright,’ Mrs Trifle said.

‘Dull as a dingbat, like old whatsit here,’ Aunt Jetty said, pointing to Selby.

‘She’s a great one to talk,’ Selby thought.

‘But Selby’s not dumb,’ Mrs Trifle said.

‘Well, that’s what you say,’ Aunt Jetty laughed. ‘Of course my story is just a made-up story. It’s not really about your dog. It’s about
Shelby.
I just used a similar name, the way we authors do,’ she added. ‘Anyway, the story starts when Aunt Jetty I mean, Aunt Betty — and Shelby go bungy jumping.’

‘Bungy jumping?’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘What do you know about bungy jumping?’

‘What’s to know?’

‘Have you ever done it?’

‘No, of course not. What do you take me for? People jump off a bridge with rubber
springy thingies tied to their feet and then bounce up and down till they stop bouncing. What else is there to know? Anyway, the stupid dog,’ Aunt Jetty said, suddenly laughing uncontrollably, ‘this stupid Shelby (ha, ha, ha, ha!),’ Aunt Jetty snorted, ‘the brainless dog ties the rubber springy thingy around his neck instead of around his feet!’

‘Merciful heavens,’ Selby thought. ‘The woman’s a complete idiot! And she thinks
I’m
dumb.’

‘Let’s see now,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘This dog — this Shelby — actually ties the rubber springy thingy around his own neck, is that it?’

‘Yes.’

‘So he’s no ordinary dog.’

‘He’s one of those
talking
dogs that act like people — the kind you get in children’s books and on TV,’ Aunt Jetty explained. ‘Anyway, he jumps off the bridge before Aunt Betty can stop him.’

‘Aren’t those rubber springy thingies too thick to tie around a dog’s neck?’

‘Details, details, ‘Aunt Jetty said. ‘What does it matter?’

‘Well, you did say you wanted the story to be realistic,’ Mrs Trifle said.

‘Well, yes, anyway the incredibly brave and quick-witted Aunt Betty knows that he’ll break his neck when the rubber springy thingy pulls back so she has to act fast. She runs off the bridge, down into the gorge, swims the raging river, climbs a tall tree —’

‘All of this while he’s still falling?’ Mrs Trifle asked. ‘I don’t know about this story —’

‘She’s very quick,’ Aunt Jetty insisted. ‘Very, very quick. Then she catches him gently in her arms and saves him from certain death.’

‘This Shelby must have been very pleased.’

‘To have a woman like Aunt Betty around? Of course. Who wouldn’t be?’ Aunt Jetty said, flicking a piece of hair out of her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘Of course he’s so dumb that he doesn’t even realise that she’s saved his life or that, because of him, she’s ruined her best blouse. End of story.’

‘What’s the story called?’ Mrs Trifle asked.

‘It’s called “Betty the Brave and Silly Shelby”. What do you think?’

‘I think I’m going to be sick,’ Selby thought.

‘Hmmm,’ Mrs Trifle hmmmed. ‘It’s a good story but I have an idea. Before you fax it off I think we’d better watch some real bungy jumping. It’s important to get the details right, otherwise you’ll get letters from children telling you where you went wrong.’

‘Yes, I wouldn’t want that,’ said Aunt Jetty.

‘Then let’s drive over to Gumboot Gorge where Awful Knoffle
gives bungy-jumping lessons.’

‘What a great idea,’ Aunt Jetty said. ‘And we could bring Selby to see if the rubber springy thingy will tie around his neck.’

‘Why am I not thrilled with this idea?’ Selby thought. ‘Oh well, my worrying days are over. From now on, I’m just going to go with the flow.’

Mrs Trifle, Aunt Jetty and Selby arrived at Gumboot Gorge Bridge just as the former daredevil-turned-bungy-jumping-teacher, Awful Knoffle, was helping someone into an ambulance.

‘My goodness, there’s been an accident!’ Mrs Trifle said, rolling down the car window. ‘What happened, Awful?’

‘Thick ankles. Little feet,’ Awful said, shaking his head. ‘I hate it when they have thick ankles and little feet. They’re okay on the trip down but when they bottom out, the rope pulls off their feet and
splat!’

‘Is he okay?’ Mrs Trifle asked.

‘Yeah, he’ll live. Luckily the rope only slipped off after the third bounce so we just had to fish him out of the river. Stick around if you want to do a jump. I’ll be back from the hospital in a few minutes.’

With this, Awful Knoffle got into the ambulance and sped off.

‘Oh, look,’ Aunt Jetty said, jumping out of the car. ‘He’s left the rubber springy thingy behind.’

‘Yes,’ said Mrs Trifle, ‘and, just as I thought: it’s too thick to tie around a dog’s neck. But there’s a clip thing on the end. Awful must tie a rope around their ankles and then clip it to the thingy.’

‘I’ve got it!’ said Aunt Jetty, climbing up on the
platform. ‘In my story, Shelby could clip the clip to his collar.That’s it! Here, put Selby up here.’

‘I can’t believe this,’ Selby thought. ‘I can’t believe she’s actually going to clip that bungy thing to my collar. I mean, how realistic does she want this story to be?’

There had been a time when Selby would have kept his legs straight to make it hard for Mrs Trifle to drag him out of the car. And there had been a time when Selby would have thought of crying out in plain English, ‘No, no! Don’t do this to me! I’m Selby, the only talking dog in Australia and, perhaps, the world!’

‘But not this time,’ Selby thought. ‘This time I’m going to go with the flow and nothing will happen.’

Selby jumped out of the car and Aunt Jetty reached down and lifted him onto the platform.

‘Please be very careful,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘You could fall off.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Aunt Jetty said, clipping the clip to Selby’s collar. ‘The important thing is to make sure there aren’t any mistakes in the story. I couldn’t stand it if I got tonnes of letters from
little smartypants kids. Anyway, I’ve proved that the whole thing’s dead easy.’

‘Gulp. I wish she wouldn’t use that word,’ Selby said, glancing down into the gorge and the raging river below. ‘I
should
jump back down onto the footpath right now. But — knowing what always happens to me — if I try to do that I’ll probably trip and fall in the gorge. No, this time I’m just going to relax and everything will be okay.’

‘All right, Jetty,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Unclip Selby and let’s go. This whole thing is making me nervous.’

‘
You?’
Selby thought. ‘How about
me?’

‘Don’t worry,’ Aunt Jetty said as she picked Selby up. ‘What could possibly go wrong?’

It was just then, before she could jump down to the footpath, that a sudden gust of wind caught her and knocked her off balance. For one terrible sweaty second she swung her arm around and around in the air like a helicopter as she tried to get her balance. But it was no good — no sooner was she balanced again than a second, stronger gust caught the woman, knocking her and Selby off the platform and into the gorge.

‘I’m falling!’ Aunt Jetty cried as she grasped Selby’s leg in her hand. ‘Heeeeeeeeeelp!’

Down they went, falling through the air, to the sounds of Mrs Trifle’s piercing screams from the bridge above.

‘This is it!’ Selby thought. ‘I’m a dead dog! With the full weight of that great galumph clinging to me and the thingy clipped to my collar I’ll break my neck for sure! How did I get myself into this? This is the last time I go with the flow! Gulp. It could be the last time I do anything!’

Selby looked at the panic-stricken woman, her eyes staring up at the sky.

‘She’s completely out of it. She doesn’t know what’s happening!’ Selby thought. ‘Now if I can pull her fingers loose and grab my collar in both paws, I’ll be okay!’

One by one, Selby pulled Aunt Jetty’s fingers loose and already he could feel the wonderful feeling he knew he’d have when the rubber springy thingy bounced him back upwards. He would survive. He’d be okay. He’d have one more thrilling story to tell his writer friend.

‘Now wait a minute!’ he thought. ‘Speaking of writers — Aunt Jetty isn’t going to be so lucky. I think she is about to be no more. She is about to disappear from my life forever.’

A happy feeling came over him followed by a sad one. He began to wonder what life would be like when Aunt Jetty was gone.

‘No,’ he thought. ‘I can’t let it happen. I hate her but I’ve got to do something to save her!’

Just in the instant when he was coming to the end of the rubber springy thingy, Selby quickly unclipped the clip from his collar, clipped it to Aunt Jetty’s belt and then clung to her for dear life. Just then they bounced back up and then down and then up again until they hung just above the water.

‘Thank goodness you’re okay!’ Mrs Trifle sighed as she pulled them over to the riverbank. ‘I was so frightened that I had to close my eyes. What happened?’

‘I — I don’t know,’ Aunt Jetty mumbled. ‘Just get me out of this awful gorge!’

Three hours later, Aunt Jetty had recovered and was sitting at Mrs Trifle’s computer finishing her story.

‘I decided to make the story completely realistic,’ Aunt Jetty told her sister. ‘I just told it
the way it actually happened. Now, how do I fax this off to
Kiddy winks Weekly Magazine?’

‘You can do it right from the computer,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Let’s see now, I think you just push these buttons …’

‘How does she know what happened?’ Selby thought. ‘She was completely ga-ga. I wonder what she wrote.’

That night when Aunt Jetty had gone and Dr and Mrs Trifle were sound asleep, Selby crept into the study, turned on the computer, and read the story.

‘Good grief!’ Selby thought when he’d finished reading. ‘She thinks that she rescued me! She’s got Aunt Betty unclipping the clip from Shelby’s collar and clipping it to
her
belt and then holding on to him! Why, I’ll fix her!’

Selby began typing furiously.

‘I’ll just make a few small changes,’ he thought, ‘and then I’ll tell the editor of
Kiddywinks Weekly Magazine
that this is a better story — which it is.’

With this, Selby faxed the story off and then turned off the computer.

‘I’m not sure if she’s going to be rich and famous from this story,’ he thought, ‘but the kids should enjoy the real story — “Smart Shelby and Bonehead Betty” — about the dashing, daring, death-defying dog who rescues Aunt Betty from certain death. Hmmm, writing stories is more fun than I thought. Maybe I’ll write my own from now on.