Selby Sorcerer (11 page)

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:

As those last words came out of Melanie’s lips the audience went deathly quiet. Suddenly 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.’

As Melanie finished reading, her voice suddenly 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,’
he added, as he strutted around like a chicken (the way he liked to do at the end of a joke). ‘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.’

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!

‘This is the most famous and valuable painting in the whole world!’ Dr Trifle exclaimed. ‘How did you manage to get it?’

Dr Trifle was talking to his old friend Reginald Scumble, the director of the Federal Art Gallery.

‘We’ve only borrowed it,’ the director said. ‘And we had to pay a lot of money just to do that. But we should get the money back if lots of people come to see it.’

Selby looked up at the poster of the
Smiling Lady
in front of the gallery.

‘This is so exciting!’ he thought. ‘Even
I
know that painting! I’ve seen lots of pictures of
it. I just love the way she’s sort of smiling but sort of isn’t. She’s mysterious. She’s beautiful. And you can tell it’s a great painting because when you move, her eyes look like they’re following you around.’

Outside the gallery was a long queue of people waiting patiently to see the painting.

‘The reason I’ve asked you here,’ the director told Dr Trifle, ‘is to check out the PCM.’

‘The what?’ Dr Trifle asked.

‘The PCM. Your very own Painting and Cleaning Machine. The one you gave us last year, remember?’

‘Oh,
that
PCM,’ Dr Trifle said, suddenly remembering the machine. ‘Is there a problem with it?’

‘I don’t think so,’ the director said. ‘The real problem is with our painting restorer. You see the
Smiling Lady
has a lot of dust and grime on her that needs to be cleaned off before we hang her. Our restorer refuses to put her through your machine because he says that it’s the most famous and valuable painting in the world and should only be cleaned by hand.’

‘Maybe he’s right,’ Dr Trifle said, suddenly feeling a bit iffy about his invention.

‘We’ve used it dozens and dozens of times and it works like a dream,’ the director said. ‘Of course we follow your instructions exactly. And we only ever use it on old paintings.’

‘Yes, that’s very important,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘With old paintings like the
Smiling Lady
the paint is as hard as a rock. With newly painted paintings, the little rubber cleaning fingers in the machine could smudge the paint — or even scrape it off. But, still, I think I wouldn’t risk putting the
Smiling Lady
through the PCM.’

‘But there’s no time to clean it by hand!’ the director exclaimed. ‘It would take five restorers a week and it’s due back in Europe next weekend! Please just have a look at the PCM to make sure it’s okay and then we’ll bung the old girl through.’

‘Well, if you say so.’

The director opened a side door into the basement of the art gallery. As he did, he whispered to Dr Trifle.

‘I must warn you about Etto, our painting restorer. He’s not a happy chappy at the
moment. He’s a bit of a fusspot at the best of times but the
Smiling Lady
has made him very cranky. Quite apart from the cleaning problem, I think he’s jealous of her.’

‘Jealous of a painting?’

‘Yes, he’s a painter himself. All restorers can paint a bit. Otherwise they couldn’t fill in the gaps when there are cracks or flakes of paint missing. Etto is good at copying other people’s paintings but he also does his own paintings — and they’re dreadful. Cats with big eyes. That sort of thing. And I’m afraid he thinks he’s a genius and that people should be queueing up to see
his
paintings instead of the
Smiling Lady.
So just be nice to him.’

The laboratory was filled with paintings and strange pieces of equipment. At the very end of the big room was Dr Trifle’s PCM. Lying on a bench next to the machine Selby saw the famous
Smiling Lady.

‘I can’t believe that I’m actually in the same room as the most famous and valuable painting in the world!’ Selby squealed in his brain. ‘Oh, this is sooooo exciting! I wish I could see it properly.’

‘Get that stupid dog out of here!’ a man in a white coat screamed. ‘Out! Out! Out! This is not some kind of stinky dog kennel!’

‘It’s all right,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘I’m Dr Trifle and he’s my dog.’

‘I don’t care if you’re the prime minister!’ the man cried. ‘I’m not having a dog coming in here! He might make water all over priceless works of art!’

‘Calm down, Etto,’ the director said. ‘I’m sure that Selby will do nothing of the kind.’

‘Make water all over priceless works of art?’ Selby thought. ‘Does he really think I’d do a thing like that? I’ll make water over him if he doesn’t watch it.’

The painting restorer gave Dr Trifle a long stare.

‘In case you don’t know it,’ he said, ‘I am Etto Pittore, Chief Painting Restorer of the DCTL.’

‘The what?’ Dr Trifle said exactly as he did earlier in the story.

‘The Dusting, Cleaning and Touching-up Laboratory. And I think that if you put the most famous and valuable painting in the world
through your stupid machine then you are stupid. It is a big stupid mistake.’

‘Now, now,’ the director said. ‘If anything goes wrong then I’ll take the blame.’

‘I will clean the painting myself by hand,’ the restorer said. ‘I will work all day and all night and it will be clean by tomorrow.’

‘You can’t possibly get it cleaned by then,’ the director said. ‘Now stand aside so Dr Trifle can check the machine.’

‘Okay, go ahead, Mr Stupid Inventor.’

Dr Trifle opened the panels at the side of the machine and twiddled some dials.

‘It just needs a bit more water in the cleaning solution tray,’ he said, adding some water from a small plastic water bottle and then pressing theON button. ‘The little rubber cleaning fingers seem as soft as ever.’

The machine hummed quietly to life and the lights on the control panel blinked.

‘I only wish I could see her properly,’ Selby thought, ‘so I can see how much better she looks after she’s been cleaned.’

Dr Trifle was about to push the GO button,
to start the painting going through the machine, when he suddenly stopped.

‘Is something wrong?’ the director asked.

‘Maybe we should put another old painting through first,’ Dr Trifle said, ‘just to be absolutely sure the machine is working okay.’

Dr Trifle looked around at a painting propped up against a bench. The painting was of a kitten with very big eyes sitting in a basket. ‘How about that one?’

‘Don’t even think about it, you stupid man!’ the restorer screamed. ‘That is a beautiful painting! I painted it myself. And, Mr Know-Nothing-Cleaning-Machine-Inventor, it was painted just this morning. If you put that through your horrible machine all the paint will come off! Then you will have to pay me a hundred million dollars!’

‘I am terribly sorry,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘Is there another painting that needs cleaning? An old one?’

Dr Trifle and the director went around a corner and started looking through a rack of old paintings. The restorer followed.

‘You don’t know what you’re doing!’ the man yelled. ‘You are crazy — both of you!’

‘And while no one’s looking,’ Selby thought, as he climbed up on a stool to get a better look at the
Smiling Lady,
‘I think I might just have a closer look at the most famous and valuable painting in the world. Hmmm. She looks okay but I think I like her poster better.’

Selby swayed from side to side over the painting.

‘What’s going on here
her eyes aren’t following me. I guess she does need a bit of a clean.’