Nick Klaus's Fables

by Frederic Colier

father in. The older brother looked befuddled.

  “Wait, wait,” shouted a voice from outside. “Don’t close the door.”

  Another bull in a drenched suit, with a tie and a hat and two huge suitcases, rushed to the entrance. “Can’t lock me out of my own home. I want more of those berries you brought. Such a fancy treat.”

  The younger brother clapped his hands in delight. So the puzzled older brother let him in as well. He was about to close the door when a third bull walked out of the lake, water dripping from his suitcases and pooling in the hems of his pants.

  “Save me a bowl of blueberries,” he shouted, racing towards the house.

  Soon the third bull and his messy shoes joined the other two on the sofa. A fourth one knocked on the window and waved. While still another was just emerging from the muddy water.

  The young brother ran to the fridge and grabbed a bowl of strawberries.

  “Come,” he said to his brother. “Maybe grandma and grandpa have been in there too waiting for their treats.”

  “But Dad is allergic to strawberries.”

  In the meantime, one of the dads had gotten up and was gaping at them from the kitchen door.

  “What’s going on in there? Bickering? Hiding from your homework? Bring me a beer and go and play outside.”

  Once outside the boys stared at the window with anger, watching the blueberry dads eating all the food and drinking all the drinks from the fridge. “What you say we go back to the lake and fish out all these blueberries.

  Worm Pumpkin Pie (#18)

  Once upon a time a family of worms lived inside a cozy pumpkin tucked into a muddy field. One day, as the parents went out to fetch food, the offspring ventured to peek outside through the entrance hole. They shrunk in horror as they spotted a family wading their way across the field. The children were boisterous and bouncy, crushing everything in their wake. They shouted “Halloween, Halloween.” The eldest of the worm offspring screamed: “We must abandon this pumpkin. Danger is on its way.”

  “No let’s wait until mom and dad come back,” suggested a sibling.

  “No time. They’re going to carve out our house with knives, so sharp that we’ll never survive, but in slices and dices.”

  Believing the eldest sibling, the worms slithered out of the pumpkin as fast as they could. The entrance hole was too narrow and the escape slow. All made it out, except for the youngest worm, who didn’t believe a word of it.

  “That’s just a ghost tale big brothers tell to scare little kids like us,” he challenged. So he stayed behind and got carried away as the pumpkin was loaded onto a truck.

  Soon the pumpkin lay on the kitchen table. The little worm inside pricked up his ears, waiting with confidence. Only he started yelling at the top of his voice when he saw that knives were whizzing by his rings and cutting holes into the pumpkin’s rind.

  “Brothers, sisters, you were so right,” he called out. But the deaf children laughed and screeched, delighted, as the worm squirmed about to avoid being chopped in slices.

  Per chance, the pumpkin was put outside the front door, bright with a candle inside. The heat was intense like a sauna, and the worm baked and agonized to breathe. Per chance again, the wind was strong and blew the candle out. Seeing a way to escape through the pumpkin’s mouth, the weakened defiant worm slipped out with relief. It was crawling towards the front garden lawn when the plate below the pumpkin cracked. The pumpkin rolled and bounced down the stairs, and squashed the little worm to paste.

  The Monkey and the Donkey (#19)

  Once a dreamy monkey took a fancy to see the sea. Not knowing where it was, he got lost in the forest. He hiked and leaped from tree to tree for a couple of days. Exhausted, he came across a donkey, looking pretty docile and bored, grazing in a glade. The monkey approached and asked the donkey if she would carry him to the sea. The donkey shook her head no. She was not interested in going anywhere. “I like where I live, and what I eat here is plenty.”

  “But if you come with me, you’ll have plenty more. And instead of sleeping under the stars, you’ll sleep in a castle made of stars.” Seduced by the prospect, the donkey raised an eyebrow. Feeling confident, the monkey ventured to climb on her back. However, the donkey would not move. She still had doubts and had no need for a castle of stars.

  “And your castle will be full of carrots too,” quickly added the monkey.

  “Carrots, what are they like?” said the donkey, inspired. She had never tasted one before.

  “Let me show you.” The monkey tied a carrot at the end of a rod and dangled it in front of the donkey’s head. Upon seeing the juicy, fresh carrot, the donkey tried to catch up with it. But as she stepped forward to bite it off, the carrot escaped her eager teeth and moved forth with the monkey. The faster the donkey ran, the faster carrot escaped.

  “Soon enough, you’ll be able to taste it,” shouted the monkey, only too happy to be able to cross the forest and get to see the sea.

  After several days, the exhausted donkey stopped walking.

  “What’s the matter, donkey? We’re not there yet,” yelled the monkey.

  “I’m starving. How much farther is this carrot castle? If only I could taste it, to see if I like it. Then I’ll know if I’d like to go.”

  “You’ll love it,” simply answered the monkey.

  They walked and walked. Soon the sun disappeared, entire days passed, and the wind tore the leaves off the trees. And then the rain came in troves, along with ankle-deep snow.

  Finally, they came to the edge of the forest and reached the blue sea. The donkey raised his head: “Where is that castle full of carrots? I see none.”

  The monkey did not like what he saw either. Just water and sand as far as the eye could see, with nothing to eat or where to hide from the sun.

  “We’re not quite there, yet,” mumbled the monkey stretching, as if he had just woken up. “It is hiding beyond this hill over there,” he said pointing at a tall dune in the distance. The donkey glanced over and looked back at the dangling carrot in front of her nose, not so motivated now. The fresh spotless carrot had braved much bad weather and looked rather sad. It had all shriveled. Herself hungry, the donkey dug her hooves in and sat. The monkey almost lost his balance.

  “If this castle’s going to look like this carrot, I’m not going anywhere!” she said, turning towards the monkey, clinging to her neck. Afraid to be stuck by the sea and starve, the monkey unhooked the decrepit unsavory vegetable and handed it to the donkey. “Look, it tastes very nice,” said the monkey, his voice shaking.

  Slowly, the donkey nibbled on the pitiful carrot, her face covered with frowns. The monkey waited, with a smile a mile wide.

  “You think you can trick me so easily,” she blurted out, kicking the monkey off her back. “This carrot is as unsavory as your castle. I’m afraid but you’ll have to walk back.”

  The monkey looked around in a panic, begged and pleaded with the donkey. But the donkey had pride, and she turned her rump around and walked away. Quickly, however, she realized that she did not know which way to go and got lost. On her way down to the sea, she only had her sights on the carrot and the castle by the sea.

  The Horse With Three Legs (#20)

  Once upon a time a little girl playing in a field found herself a long way from home. She came across a horse running down a hill in the distance.

  “Good,” she thought delighted, “this horse can give me a ride back home.” She approached the brown sweaty horse and realized that he only had three legs. How strange that was, for three legs did not seem to prevent the horse from jumping, reeling, frolicking, trotting, and of course galloping up and down the hill. The little girl stared at the horse and said bluntly: “What have you done with your fourth leg?”

  The horse put on an unpleasant air of surprise on his face. “What fourth leg?” he said.

  The little girl frowned. She was not ready to l
et this horse have the last word, especially not a horse with three legs.

  “The one you’re missing,” she said, pointing at the missing leg. The horse’s head followed her finger pointing at the missing leg. Confused, he raised his head again, grinned his big white teeth.

  “There’s nothing there. How can a leg be missing?”

  Far from feeling intimidated, the little girl clenched her fists. “You must have lost it somewhere then?”

  “There’s no leg there, how can I possibly have lost it? How do you know it’s missing in the first place, anyway?”

  “All horses have four legs!”

  “Not true,” answered the horse huffing and digging his hooves in the mud. “How dare you claim that when you’ve got only two legs?! What happened to your other twos?”

  The little girl pinched her lips and thought the horse was being difficult. “I only have two legs, because I’m meant to be this way. I’m not a horse and would find it hard to run on four legs. But you, you’d run much faster with four legs.”

  “I need what I need, and three legs are plenty for me.”

  At that moment, the little girl spotted the sun going down behind the forest. She remembered she had to go home.

  “Please give me a ride back home.”

  The horse shook his head vigorously.

  “I was going to give you a ride. But it’s late now, and horses with three legs don’t run in the dark.”

  Scared, the little girl watched the three-legged horse run up the hill