Selby's Stardom Page 6

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ Selby thought. ‘He did tell me another one.’

  ‘Poor old Shish,’ Digger Dave continued. ‘When I found him in the jungles of Mexico he was just a puppy. Speared right through the tummy, he was. Someone probably mistook him for some sort of wild animal, poor guy. Half-dead and bleeding like you wouldn’t believe, he was.’

  ‘Oh, please,’ Selby thought. ‘What does he take me for? Speared through the tummy? This guy watches too much TV.’

  ‘I nursed him back to health. That’s where I got his name: Shishkebab — like that nice spicy meat on a stick. Ever have shishkebabs, Selby? Stupid question. What would you know, you mongrel.’

  ‘Of course I’ve had shishkebabs,’ Selby thought. ‘That does it. Go back to sleep, Digger Dave, so I can get out of here.’

  ‘Melissa shouldn’t have said those things about him,’ Digger Dave said. ‘No good place for a dog, a flat in the city. That wasn’t right.’

  ‘Melissa?’ Selby thought. ‘Must be the daughter who kicked him out. Can’t say I could blame her.’

  ‘I remember the time we were crossing the Great Sandy Desert —’

  ‘Oh, here we go,’ Selby thought. ‘Come on, Garbage Breath, tell me you almost died of thirst.’

  ‘Almost died of thirst, we did,’ Digger Dave said. ‘Old Shish found a waterhole. Couldn’t have found it meself. I could barely crawl. That dog could smell water.’

  ‘Sounds like he should have been called Superdog to me,’ Selby thought. ‘He gets speared though the tummy and survives, he can smell water and he makes rafts.’

  Selby watched as the old man slumped back and began to snore.

  ‘Now for the great escape,’ he thought. ‘Do I go for the key again or try for that last window?’

  Selby decided to try for the window so quietly opened the door to the last room.

  ‘Let’s hope this window opens,’ he thought. ‘Then it’s goodbye, Disgusting Dave.’

  Selby pulled on the window but it was stuck shut like the others. He turned to go back to the lounge room.

  ‘Look at that!’ he thought. ‘Every centimetre of wall is covered in old photos. This guy is seriously weird.’

  Selby switched on the light.

  ‘Look at that guy in the funny shorts sneaking up on a lion. And look at this, he’s climbing up a vine in the jungle. Here’s the same dude with a snake wrapped around him. He could be a relative of Digger Dave. He sure looks like him.’

  Selby moved in for a closer look.

  ‘It’s him! It’s Digger Dave when he was young. So all those things he was talking about were true. I can’t believe it! There’s even a picture of Superdog pulling a sled!’

  Selby went back to where Digger Dave was sleeping and again started working his paw into his pocket. Soon he had the key and had unlocked the front door.

  ‘I do feel just a little sorry for Old Grouch-Face,’ Selby thought. ‘He’s going to wonder what happened to me when he finds me gone. Oh, well, can’t be helped. I know, I’ll do a bit of a clean-up before I go. I’ll show him what a real superdog can do.’

  While Dave snored on the lounge, Selby put all the rubbish lying around the house in plastic bags and took them outside to the empty rubbish bin. He washed the dishes and cleaned the windows and he even vacuumed the floor without waking up the old man.

  ‘Man, this is one sound sleeper,’ he chuckled to himself.

  When he was finished with the vacuuming he picked up all the dirty clothes that lay around and pulled off the bedding on the old man’s bed and put them in the washing machine and then the dryer.

  ‘This is crazy,’ Selby thought as he ironed the clean clothes, folded them neatly and remade the bed. ‘I hate housework and here I am doing it when I don’t even have to. What’s happening to me?’

  Selby was about to go when he took one last look at Digger Dave.

  ‘See ya, Gramps,’ he said.

  Digger Dave opened his eyes and started gasping for breath.

  ‘My medicine,’ he rasped.

  Dave struggled to his feet, looked around the room and then fell heavily onto the floor.

  ‘My medicine …’ he gasped. ‘Shish. Shish, get it for me.’

  Selby ran to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet only to find it chock-a-block with medicines. He grabbed them all in one big bundle and dumped them in front of the old man.

  ‘Help me. Help me …’

  ‘Open your eyes,’ Selby thought. ‘I don’t know which one you need. I’m not a mind-reader. This is silly. I’ve got to talk to him. He could die if I don’t.’

  ‘Hey, Dave-o,’ Selby said out loud. ‘W-what?’

  ‘Which medicine do you need?’ The man slowly opened one eyelid and then the other.

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I said, which medicine do you need? Tell me and I’ll give it to you.’

  ‘Am I losing my marbles?’ the man asked. ‘You talked.’

  ‘So I can talk,’ Selby said. ‘Get over it. What medicine do you need?’

  The man’s eyes rolled up in his head and he slumped back to the floor, unconscious.

  ‘I’ve got to get an ambulance!’ Selby said as he grabbed the phone and dialled 000.

  Within minutes, Selby could hear the sound of the siren approaching. The old man opened his eyes again.

  ‘How’d you learn how to talk?’ he asked.

  ‘I don’t know. I was watching TV,’ Selby said. ‘Anyway, don’t tell anyone, okay?’

  ‘You mean, no one else knows?’

  ‘Not even my owners.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I don’t want them to make me do housework.’

  The old man looked around the room.

  ‘So who cleaned up around here?’

  ‘Me, but don’t tell anyone that either. Promise?’

  ‘Nobody would believe me anyway,’ Dave said. ‘I guess you don’t want to live here with me, do you?’

  ‘No, I’m afraid not.’

  ‘But those nutters you live with are going to put you down.’

  ‘They’d never do a thing like that,’ Selby said. ‘They’re wonderful people. Mrs Trifle only said that to get you to look after me for a while. She thought I’d be good for you.’

  Digger Dave laughed but the laugh turned into a cough.

  ‘Good for me? Well I guess you were, too.’

  Just then the ambulance attendants came through the door. They spoke to Digger Dave and then put him on a stretcher to take him to hospital. Selby heard the old man call out, ‘Thanks, Selby!’ And then to the attendants, ‘That dog talks, you know.’

  ‘We’ll have you in hospital in a couple of minutes,’ one of the men said.

  ‘See ya, Selby,’ Dave called out again.

  ‘See you, Digger Dave,’ Selby thought.

  ‘So what became of Digger Dave?’ Dr Trifle asked Mrs Trifle a week later.

  ‘He’s gone, I’m afraid.’

  Selby looked up from where he was resting.

  ‘Gone?’ Dr Trifle said. ‘What do you mean, gone?’

  ‘Gone to live with his daughter in the city. She had no idea he was ill and needed looking after. He got a lot better in hospital and then she came and got him. He must have been delirious with fever, I’m afraid. He said that Selby cleaned his house for him. Isn’t that a scream? And that isn’t all. He reckons that Selby must have rung his daughter to tell her to come and get him because he said that he didn’t do it.’

  ‘Goodness me,’ Dr Trifle said, looking over at Selby. ‘I guess Selby is cleverer than we thought.’

  A tiny smile flickered across Selby’s lips.

  ‘I certainly am,’ he thought. ‘I certainly am.’

  Selby’s Grand Pree

  It was midnight and most of Bogusville was asleep. Even Dr Trifle, who often worked late on his inventions, was dreaming, though his dreams were full of gizmos and gadgets.

  Selby was in Dr Trifle’s
workroom sitting at a computer game console with a helmet strapped to his head.

  On the side of the console it said ‘Grand Pree Simulator’. The helmet had a visor that Selby had pulled down over his eyes so that he could watch the images within.

  Selby was holding a steering wheel in front of him, turning it violently from side to side or spinning it halfway round and then back again.

  He worked the floor pedals and gearstick just like a professional race-car driver.

  The headphones hidden inside the helmet were alive with the roar of engines and the crash of cars as, one by one, Selby made his way through to the front of the pack. There was only one car between Selby and the finish line. Normally Selby was very careful to pay attention to where the Trifles were but not tonight. He was totally caught up in the excitement of the race — all he had to do was pass the last car and he’d win the game.

  But the last car was driven by no ordinary driver. The Phantom Warrior’s long orange hair billowed behind him like the flames from his exhaust pipes. His car weaved from side to side and Selby glimpsed the pasty-white of a demon’s face and the red glint of his eyes.

  ‘Move over and let me by,’ Selby muttered. ‘Don’t mess with me or I’ll take you out.’

  Selby moved to the inside lane and then quickly changed to the outside but no matter how quickly he did it, the Phantom’s car was always there, blocking his way.

  ‘I’ll teach you to toy with me,’ Selby muttered.

  He jammed his foot on the accelerator and flicked the handbrake up, then released it just as quickly. Selby’s car lurched to the left, then launched into a controlled spin so he could shoot up beside the black car.

  ‘I’ve got you now!’ Selby screamed over at the other driver. ‘I’ll show you who’s boss!’

  The Phantom Warrior smiled his evil smile, showing his broken teeth and the pink velvet of his pointed tongue. Then, all in one motion, he rammed his car into a lower gear, sending a blast of black smoke and oil sideways to cover Selby’s windscreen.

  ‘I’m driving blind!’ Selby squealed. ‘I’ve got to find the Screen-Clear lever and clean this guck off before I crash!’

  Selby pulled a lever on the console. There was a spray of liquid and then wipers cleared away the oil on his windscreen. Selby quickly corrected the car’s course, narrowly missing a crashed car by the side of the road.

  But it was too late and Selby could only watch as the black car streaked across the finish line ahead of him.

  ‘Three thousand, four hundred and fifty three points! Wow!’ Selby said. ‘That’s the best I’ve ever done. I’m getting pretty good at this. Now it’s a grudge fight between me and the Phantom. I’ll get him next time. He’s got to run out of tricks sooner or later.’

  Selby took off the helmet and turned off the machine.

  ‘That Dr Trifle is such a clever guy,’ Selby thought. ‘This racing-car trainer is just what every Formula Three team needs to train their drivers. It’s safe, it’s much cheaper than racing a real Formula Three racer and it’s almost as good as the real thing.’

  Selby turned out the lights in the workroom and quietly closed the door.

  ‘I can’t wait till the Trifles deliver it to Team Tigertail next week. I can’t wait to see those guys in person, especially their star driver, Petrol-Head Pancho. Now there’s one crazy guy. I saw a TV show about him. He loves dogs. He’s got a greyhound painted on the side of his racing car to bring him luck.’

  A week later Selby was in the back seat of the Trifles’ car while Mrs Trifle directed Dr Trifle on the long drive to Team Tigertail’s racetrack.

  ‘Oh boy, oh boy,’ thought Selby. ‘I’m soooooo glad the Trifles brought me along. I can’t wait to see Team Tigertail win the race! That Petrol-Head Pancho is such a great driver. And if he wins today, he’ll be the world Formula Three champion.’

  ‘There seems to be a race on,’ the somewhat forgetful Dr Trifle said. ‘This probably isn’t a good time to deliver my ERSATZ machine.’

  ‘Is that what you call it?’ Mrs Trifle asks.

  ‘Well, yes. It stands for Extra Realistic Simulator And Training Zoom machine. Team Tigertail wanted it to give their drivers practice without wearing out a lot of cars.’

  The Trifles and Selby made their way through the tunnel to the pit area. There the Tigertail crew was working furiously as cars sped around the track.

  ‘Blinky!’ the team captain called out, using Dr Trifle’s old nickname. ‘Great to see you! The race is almost over and our guy, Petrol-Head, is leading. But he needs a new set of treads and some juice. Stand back because he’s about to make one last pit stop.’

  ‘Oh, this is sooooooooo exciting!’ Selby thought. ‘I’ll get to see Petrol-Head in the flesh! I’ve only ever seen him on TV.’

  Just then the Team Tigertail’s lead car screeched into the pit. The tiny driver’s seat was open at the top, with a roll-bar behind the driver’s head. All Selby could see of Petrol-Head was a red helmet. The helmet turned and the driver lifted his goggles to the top of his helmet, showing his eyes and nose.

  ‘It’s him!’ Selby thought. ‘It’s Petrol-Head Pancho!’

  The team manager stood with a stopwatch in hand as the crew started changing the tires and filling the petrol tank.

  ‘I just got word that Awful Knoffle isn’t going to make a pit stop!’ the manager yelled above the noise.

  ‘Awful Knoffle?’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘I think I’ve heard that name before.’

  ‘What?!’ Petrol-Head screamed. ‘I just got out in front and now I’ll have to catch him again!’

  ‘You’ll get him, P-H,’ the manager said. ‘I’ve got faith in you.’

  ‘Forget the faith, I need luck,’ said Petrol-Head, suddenly noticing Selby. ‘Bring that dog over here.’

  ‘P-H! Four seconds and we’ll have you out of here!’

  ‘I don’t move till I touch the dog!’

  ‘Mrs Trifle,’ the manager said, ‘could you bring your dog over here? — Quickly!’

  Mrs Trifle snatched Selby up in her arms and raced to the side of the car.

  ‘Put him on the bonnet!’ Petrol-Head yelled.

  Mrs Trifle put Selby down just in front of the car’s tiny windscreen. P-H stood up in his seat and patted Selby.

  ‘Can I get a photo for luck?’ the driver asked.

  Two of the crew snapped pictures of the smiling driver with his hand on Selby’s head.

  ‘Thanks, doggie,’ the driver said. ‘I’m going to win this one for you.’

  ‘Now get out there, P-H, or you’ll lose the race!’ the manager screamed. ‘Go! Go! Go!’

  ‘Get the dog off the bonnet!’ Petrol-Head yelled as he slammed his foot down on the accelerator.

  Mrs Trifle reached for Selby but the car moved too quickly and sped off with Selby balancing dangerously just in front of the windscreen. P-H was looking sideways out the window as he merged into the traffic on the track and it wasn’t until he turned his head forward again that he noticed Selby.

  ‘Hey! You’re blocking my view!’ P-H yelled as he craned his neck to see around Selby. ‘Get off there!’

  ‘I can’t just get off!’ Selby screamed in his brain. ‘We’re already going three hundred kilometres an hour! If the fall didn’t kill me every car on the track would run over me! I’d be as flat as pancake! Flatter!’

  ‘Off, dog! Off!’ P-H yelled as he pushed the gas pedal flat to the floor.

  The force of the car shooting forward sent Selby tumbling backwards over the windscreen.

  ‘Good, I can see now,’ Petrol-Head said. ‘Hey! What’s that heavy thing on my helmet?! Oh, no! Get off me, doggie!’

  Selby’s body stretched out backwards behind the driver. His front claws were just barely gripping the sides of P-H’s helmet.

  ‘Dog, you’ve got to get off me!’ P-H yelled. ‘I’ll never win this race with you on my head!’

  P-H let go of the wheel with one hand and pulled one of Selby’s paws loose.


  ‘Hey, what’s he doing?!’ Selby thought. ‘I’m not letting go now! I’m sorry but I’m not!’

  P-H’s car sped into the next straight with Awful Knoffle just ahead. P-H gripped the wheel again and roared up to the back of Knoffle’s car. He pulled to the side to overtake the lead car but Knoffle jerked his car to the side, sheering a panel off the front of P-H’s car.

  ‘You dirty guy!’ P-H screamed.

  Selby tried to readjust his grip but, in his panic, he put a paw over P-H’s goggles.

  ‘Hey, dog! I can’t see!’ P-H yelled.

  Selby suddenly realised the roll-bar was just behind him. He put a paw around it and let go of P-H’s goggles.

  ‘Good,’ he thought. ‘Now he can see where he’s going.’

  The car swerved to one side, clipping one of the cars that was a lap behind before bouncing back and hitting another car. On the second hit, P-H’s helmet slammed against the side of the door frame and he slumped forward in the seat.

  ‘Oh no,’ thought Selby. ‘Wake up!’ Selby cried, this time out loud. ‘Drive the car! You’ve got to drive the car, P-H!’

  The race car tore along bouncing off one car and then another. Cars spun around and crashed into the barriers as Selby clung to the roll-bar for dear life. And P-H stayed slumped in his seat.

  ‘I’ve got to stop this thing,’ Selby thought as he eased his hind legs down onto the steering wheel.

  Still clutching the roll-bar but with his head up high in the wind, Selby turned the wheel this way and that, carefully weaving his way through the pack.

  ‘He’s got his foot to the floor so we’re going at full speed!’ Selby thought. ‘I can’t get down to pull his leg up. I can’t take my paws off the wheel. Maybe I can turn off into the grass. But if I do that at this speed, the car will roll and fly to pieces!’

  Selby slowly slid down onto Petrol-Head Pancho’s shoulders. He was now perched with all four paws on the steering wheel.

  ‘I’ll just keep it going around the track until the ear runs out of petrol,’ Selby thought. ‘I’ve just got to keep from hitting anything.’

  All of a sudden Selby realised he was ahead of the main pack and racing along all by himself.