The Joke's on Selby Read online

  ‘I think I’ll have to scrap this idea,’ Dr Trifle said, looking at what was left of the Lip Mover. ‘It’s obviously not safe and, besides, it’s already cost me a fortune.’

  ‘That’s nothing compared to what it almost cost me,’ Selby thought.

  And he was so relieved that he could barely keep from smiling.

  THE POEM THAT STOPPED BOGUSVILLE

  ‘Did you hear that someone has invented an extra-long aeroplane?’ asked Gary Gaggs.

  ‘An extra-long aeroplane?’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Did they really?’

  ‘Yes. It’s so long that while the back part is still taking off from Sydney, the front part has already landed in Melbourne.’

  ‘Oh, Gary,’ Mrs Trifle laughed. ‘That’s terrible — and silly.’

  ‘But it made you laugh, so I’ll use it in my show. How about this one? A kid gets to school at eleven o’clock and his teacher says, “You should have been here at nine.” And the kid says, “Why? What happened?”’

  ‘That one’s even worse,’ Mrs Trifle said, laughing out loud.

  She was sitting at the dining room table opening envelopes while Selby lay on the carpet biting his tongue to keep from laughing at Gary’s jokes.

  ‘If Gary gets any funnier I’ll have to go outside,’ he thought.

  ‘What’s your new comedy show going to be called?’ Mrs Trifle asked.

  ‘I’ve called it But Seriously, Folks,’ Gary said. ‘And guess what? It’s already sold out. Everyone in Bogusville is coming to see it. What are those?’

  ‘Poems,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘They’re for Rhyme Time — the annual poetry reading.’

  Gary picked one up and read it out loud.

  MY SHED

  I love my wife

  And my ute’s just beaut

  But I’d be dead

  Without my shed.

  ‘I don’t know if that’s supposed to be funny but it is,’ Gary laughed. ‘I could almost use it in my act.’

  ‘Now, now, Gary, it may not be great poetry but I’m sure it came from the heart. That’s what really matters,’ Mrs Trifle said, picking up another envelope. ‘Goodness, this one was lucky to get here. It doesn’t even have a stamp on it. It’s called It Happened at Bogusville Creek’

  ‘Can I read it?’ Gary asked.

  ‘Hey, that’s my poem!’ Selby thought. ‘Oh, I hope he doesn’t make fun of it.’

  Gary started reading it to himself. ‘This one’s a bit different,’ he said. ‘Let me read it to you.’

  IT HAPPENED AT BOGUSVILLE CREEK

  The clouds were dripping tears the day

  When Baby Roo was swept away

  His mum stood on the riverbank

  At first she thought her baby sank

  But no! instead this baby joey

  (a cuddly little baby bo-ey)

  Was swept up in an awful tide

  And landed on the other side.

  Now Mum and son were in different places

  (Tears were streaming down their faces)

  The narrow distance seemed so long

  Because of currents swift and strong

  They could but stand and stare and shiver

  Across this deadly flooded river

  And all the while my soul was aching

  To see those gentle hearts a-breaking.

  ‘It’s very touching,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘It really shows the power of poetry.’

  ‘It certainly does,’ Gary agreed. ‘And it says that it’s based on a true story. It doesn’t say who wrote it though. It just says, “Anonymous".’

  ‘A very shy person, no doubt,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘People who write poetry are often shy, sensitive and even secretive — the three Ss.’

  ‘Yes, well I am kind of shy,’ Selby thought. ‘And sensitive. And I certainly am secretive.’

  ‘Some of them are a bit silly too,’ Gary said. ‘So what happens to these poems?’

  ‘Some get read out on the radio. Then on Saturday night we have our big Rhyme Time reading when they all get read.’

  ‘But that’s the night of my comedy show,’ Gary said. ‘Couldn’t you have it on some other night?’

  ‘No, it’s always on the first Saturday in May. But don’t worry, we’re lucky if a dozen people show up.’

  ‘They liked my poem!’ Selby thought, a little later when he was alone. ‘And it was the easiest one I ever wrote. Oh, I can’t wait to hear it on the radio.’

  The next morning when Mrs Trifle was out at work and Dr Trifle was in the workroom, Selby secretly turned on the radio just in time to hear It Happened at Bogusville Creek read out.

  ‘That was sooooo great hearing someone else read it!’ he thought. ‘And I think he was touched by it. He got all sniffly.’

  The first thing Mrs Trifle did when she got home from work that day was to turn on the radio.

  ‘Quick! Listen to this!’ she said. ‘They’re about to read It Happened at Bogusville Creek again.’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ Dr Trifle said.

  ‘The poem I told you about.’

  ‘Yes, by the way, more poems arrived in the mail today.’

  ‘People have been ringing the station all day asking to hear it again,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Shoosh.’

  Selby and the Trifles listened as Selby’s poem was read again.

  ‘Gosh,’ Dr Trifle said, wiping his eyes with his handkerchief. ‘That’s a very touching poem.’

  ‘We understand it’s based on a true story,’ the reader said. ‘We don’t know who wrote it but if you’re listening, Mr or Ms Anonymous, please ring us and tell us what finally happened to poor little (sniff) Baby Roo and his mother. Those gentle hearts a-breaking. Wonderful.’

  ‘I love it!’ Selby thought. ‘I must be a great poem writer. Hmmm. I wonder if I should ring the station when the Trifles are at the movies tonight?’

  But the Trifles didn’t go out. Instead they went to bed early. And Selby crept into the study and turned on the computer.

  ‘Instead of ringing, I’ll just finish off the poem and send it to them,’ he thought. ‘Let’s see now …’

  IT HAPPENED AT BOGUSVILLE CREEK PART TWO

  by Anonymous (again)

  The mother roo took one great leap

  Across the creek (that wasn’t that deep)

  Then she and Baby hopped away

  And everything was A-okay.

  Selby read and re-read his poem.

  ‘That’s what really happened — but it’s boring,’ he thought, as he hit the DELETE button. ‘I’ve got to make it more exciting. I said it was based on a true story. It doesn’t have to be completely true.’

  Selby worked and worked into the night, his claws clicking furiously on the keyboard. Finally he finished the poem.

  ‘Now to slip it in with today’s poems,’ he thought.

  The next morning Mrs Trifle dashed off to the radio station and delivered the new poems on her way to work. And once again Selby found himself listening as they were read out.

  ‘And wasn’t that wonderful?’ the reader sighed after reading It Happened at Bogusville Creek Part Two. ‘From the moment the handsome stranger plunged into the raging creek to swim across and rescue Baby Roo it really got to me. My producer tells me that listeners are phoning in asking for us to read both parts of the poem together. We’ll do that in about an hour.’

  Once again that night Selby worked into the wee hours. The words to the third part of his now famous poem poured from his brain, down through his paws and onto the keyboard.

  ‘This is sooooo much fun,’ he thought. ‘I just love being a poet.’

  When he finished he slipped the poem in with that day’s poems.

  The next evening, after Selby had heard his poem read out four times, Mrs Trifle came home in aterrible state.

  ‘Half of the council workers didn’t come to work today,’ she said. ‘Apparently they were at home listening to this Bogusville Creek poem on the radio — over and over again.’
/>   ‘Were they really?’ asked Dr Trifle, who’d only heard it twice.

  ‘Yes, and all around Bogusville things have gone crazy. Farmers are stopping their tractors and builders are walking off their jobs. And I heard that Lili, the hairdresser, walked out right in the middle of a haircut and went home. The Poshfield bus had its radio on and the driver was so touched by the poem that he had to stop the bus. Everyone had to get out and walk.’

  ‘I’ve never heard of anything like this,’ Dr Trifle said.

  ‘Neither have I,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘It’s like a song that suddenly shoots to number one and has everyone humming it.’

  ‘I’ve got the whole town eating out of the palm of my paw!’ Selby thought. ‘I’d better write another bit.’

  Later that night Selby and the Trifles watched a panel of poetry lovers discussing Selby’s poem on TV.

  ‘As I understand this poem,’ said Phil Philpott, the owner of The Spicy Onion Restaurant, and part-time poet, ‘the stranger survives the swim across the swollen creek and grabs Baby Roo. But then he plunges into the creek again to get the joey back to his mother. Was that wise?’

  ‘Perhaps not,’ said Melanie Mildew, gardener and part-time actress. ‘But I wonder if the poem is really about a mother and baby kangaroo separated by a creek?’

  ‘What else could it be about?’

  ‘About the harshness of the land. The creek is life itself — one minute peaceful, the next minute a raging torrent that could sweep you away. Do we give up at the first sign of hardship or do we plunge in and struggle against the current?’

  ‘I agree,’ said Camilla Bonzer, librarian at Bogusville Primary School and former president of the Bogusville Dino diSwarve Fan Club. ‘We must look inside ourselves and reach out. The real question is: Who can we reach out to?’

  ‘That was interesting,’ Mrs Trifle said when the program ended. ‘But I just want to know what happened to Baby Roo.’

  ‘And I’m going to tell them,’ Selby thought. ‘Well, maybe I won’t finish it off just yet.’

  Once again Selby typed late into the night. And once again the poetry flowed from his paws like warm sap from a tree.

  The next morning he didn’t have to sneak off to the radio to hear his poem because Dr Trifle had stopped work on his invention and had the radio turned on.

  ‘And now for the news,’ the announcer said. ‘At the top of the news is the story that is being followed on networks around the world. It’s about the poem that stopped a town. That town is our own town of Bogusville and after the news we will be bringing you the latest episode of It Happened at Bogusville Creek. Other items in the news today are: the cyclone that flattened one of our cities last night; Parliament House collapses in an earthquake; and a huge tidal wave is about to hit Perth. Now back to the poem.’

  Selby listened to the latest part of his poem.

  ‘I love being a writer,’ Selby sighed. ‘It’s sooooooo good.’

  Throughout the day listeners called the radio station to talk about the poem.

  ‘The bit I liked best,’ a woman said, ‘was when the handsome stranger fought off the crocodile. But I wonder what it meant when it said that he’d hit the crocodile with his paw?’

  ‘Ooops, did I say paw?’ Selby thought.

  ‘I think he just said that to make it rhyme with jaw,’ the announcer said. ‘The part that had me biting my fingernails was when the handsome stranger climbs the cliff with Baby Roo clinging to his back and the eagles attacked.’

  ‘Tomorrow is Rhyme Time,’ Selby thought that night as he sat at the computer again. ‘I’ve got to finish the poem tonight. But how will I end it? Maybe I should just leave the whole thing hanging again?’

  That night Selby worked as hard as he’d ever worked on anything. The next morning he awoke to the sound of Mrs Trifle’s voice.

  ‘The mysterious poet slipped the latest episode of It Happened at Bogusville Creek under our door,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, that poem,’ Dr Trifle sighed. ‘Yesterday a barn burnt down. The firefighters got there in time but they were listening to the poem on the radio and wouldn’t get out of the truck to fight the fire.’

  ‘A similar thing happened to the police,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘There were burglars in a house but the police sat outside in their police car listening to the poem on the radio.’

  ‘So the criminals got away?’ Dr Trifle asked.

  ‘No, they were listening too. When the poem finished they gave themselves up. And,’ she added, ‘I just heard that the students at Bogusville High are getting sadness counselling.’

  ‘Gulp,’ Selby thought. ‘I guess there is such a thing as the power of poetry.’

  That evening everyone gathered at Bogusville Town Hall for Rhyme Time.

  Dr and Mrs Trifle sat in the front row with Selby at their feet as Melanie Mildew prepared to read the poems. As the lights dimmed, Gary Gaggs squeezed into a seat next to Mrs Trifle.

  ‘Gary!’ Mrs Trifle exclaimed. ‘Isn’t your show about to start?’

  ‘Nobody came,’ Gary whispered. ‘Everyone’s here.’

  ‘That’s terrible,’ Mrs Trifle said.

  ‘It’s okay,’ Gary whispered. ‘I want to hear the end of the poem too.’

  ‘What happened to your head?’ Mrs Trifle asked.

  ‘I got half a haircut,’ Gary said. ‘I’ll explain later.’

  ‘This is awful,’ Selby thought. ‘Gary had to cancel his show — because of me. I wanted to write a poem that touched people but I think it touched them too much. This town may never be the same again.’

  Melanie was reading a poem about a dying budgie when suddenly Gary yelled, ‘ What do we want?!’

  After a second’s silence the crowd roared back, ‘It Happened at Bogusville Creek!’

  Then Gary yelled, ‘When do we want it?!’

  And the crowd yelled, ‘Now!’

  ‘Okay,’ Melanie said, putting the dying budgie poem aside. ‘Here we go.’

  As Melanie read It Happened at Bogusville Creek the crowd fell silent. They listened as the handsome stranger fought his way through quicksand, then a snowstorm and finally collapsed in the desert. It finished with the words of the handsome stranger as he looked down at Baby Roo lying unconscious on the burning sand:

  ‘I’m really sorry, little guy,

  Now I’m afraid we’re gonna die.’

  As those last words came out of Melanie’s lips the audience went deathly quiet. Then there were sniffles followed by boo hoo hoos and the blowing of noses.

  ‘I can’t leave them like this,’ Selby thought. ‘I have to do something — quick!’

  No one noticed the little paw that slipped a scribbled sheet of paper onto the table in front of the poetry reader, gardener and part-time actress.

  ‘Excuse me, but it seems that wasn’t the last bit of the poem. There’s more. Here it is.’

  But no! And what is this I hear?

  A helicopter drawing near!

  And out hops Mother Kangaroo

  And snatches up her Baby Roo.

  ‘Oh, thank you, sir!’ she cried and cried,

  “Without you, Baby might’ve died!

  So once again I have my chappy.’

  And isn’t it great things turned out happy.

  As Melanie finished reading, her voice gradually brightened. The crowd cheered and clapped.

  ‘Wow!’ she said, looking down at Gary Gaggs. ‘I think we could stand some lightening up after that. Excuse me, Mr Gaggs, you wouldn’t happen to know a kangaroo joke, would you?’

  ‘Well, I don’t know,’ Gary said, bounding up onto the stage. ‘But last night I shot a kangaroo in my pyjamas. What he was doing in my pyjamas, I’ll never know.’

  The audience laughed.

  ‘But seriously, folks,’ Gary said. ‘A mother kangaroo was really upset. It was raining and her kids wanted to play indoors. Woo woo woo!’ Do you know the difference between a kangaroo and a woodcutter? A kangaroo hops and chews while
a woodcutter chops and hews. Woo woo woo! What do you get when you cross a kangaroo with a sheep? A woolly jumper …’

  On and on Gary went till he’d not only used up all his kangaroo jokes but he’d done his whole But Seriously, Folks show. Finally, everyone went home, exhausted from laughing.

  ‘I still like poetry,’ Selby said, as he went to sleep that night, glad that the whole poem episode was over. ‘But give me the power of laughter any day.’

  GARY GAGGS’ FAVOURITE KANGAROO JOKE

  from his ‘But Seriously, Folks’comedy show

  A new zoo opens and a guy goes there looking for a job.

  The head keeper says, ‘You’re hired. Just put on this kangaroo suit.’

  ‘What’s this all about?’ the guy asks.

  ‘Well, we won’t be getting our kangaroos for another week or two,’ the keeper says. ‘So just put on the suit, hop around, and let people take pictures of you.’

  So the guy hops around, he lies down for a while and scratches, and hops some more. People have no idea that he’s not a real kangaroo.

  Soon the guy looks around and there’s a lion right next to him. He starts to hop away but there’s a bear in front of him. He’s terrified. He turns around again and there’s a huge crocodile right at his feet.

  So he starts screaming, ‘Help! Help! Save me!’

  The lion, the bear and the crocodile come towards him and the lion whispers, ‘Shut up, mate, or we’ll all lose our jobs!’

  SELBY ON ICE

  ‘A red ship is sailing along and it runs into a blue ship. All the passengers were marooned. Get it?’

  Gary Gaggs, the famous comedian, was in Dr and Mrs Trifle’s lounge room, telling his latest jokes.

  ‘Red and blue: marooned. I get it,’ Selby thought. ‘This guy kills me.’

  ‘Two ropes are hanging over the side of a ship,’ Gary continued. ‘One of them says, “Are you a rope?” and the other one says, “I’m afraid not.” Woo woo woo! Get it: a frayed knot.’

  ‘Are these the jokes you’re going to be telling on the Fun ‘n’ Happy Cruise?’ Mrs Trifle asked.