CHILDREN'S SHORT STORIES FOR ADULTS
I have written a collection of children's short stories about children for adults. It can sometimes be difficult to remember world of the child once we become adults. It is even harder for most adults to imagine the world of a child that has had a very different experience to their own childhood. These stories are written with the intention of rediscovering the inner child within the reader. These are two of the stories from the compilation, which has yet to be published.
The tale of His Honour Justice McJudgemuch and his technicolor robe.
Dedicated to all those who dare to try.
By Deepti V. Patel
This is his Honour Justice McJudgemuch. Judges are not known for wearing colourful clothes. Some people say that they look like they are always going to a funeral. Judges like Justice McJudgemuch are thought to be very serious. They wear long black robes and a very white, hairy curly whirly wig. They are also the only very very serious profession, to go to work every day in a form of fancy dress!
Now if you have been unlucky enough to be in front of a judge then you might just remember the shrinking feeling you get when a judge peers down at you. Well, Justice McJudgemuch had perfected the art form of making children before him, magically feel like they had shrunk to the size of a thimble.
However, Justice McJudgemuch was particularly ferocious to the lawyers before him. Good lawyers stood tall and looked Justice McJudgemuch straight in the eye despite his icy gaze. These lawyers were well trained and cared very much about the children. They did not have too much to fear, for they always tried to do the right thing.
Then there were the selfish and lazy lawyers. They trembled and feared being caught out and embarrassed by Justice McJudgemuch. They often worried about speaking too softly or too fast; saying too much or too little and sometimes even having to say anything at all! The bad lawyers feared the moment when Justice McJudgemuch would roar at them turning them immediately into a cockroach. That is until they left the courtroom, whereupon they would return to their human form again - unfortunately! The lazy lawyers thought it was easier and safer for them to blame the children for being bad than to do their job and help.
The children that came before McJudgemuch were equally frightened of him, even if sometimes they did a really good job of hiding it. They often would look down and tried to avoid McJudgemuch’s infamous steely gaze. They did not want him to look into their souls and judge them. After being a judge for many, many years Justice McJudgemuch had become angry and rather fed up. He was tired of dealing with more and more, what he thought, were naughty children. But Justice McJudgemuch’s judgements hurt the children that he wanted to help the most and he was quite oblivious of that fact.
Now it’s hard to think of a judge being young or wearing anything but their gloomy black robes. How long ago it seemed, were the days where McJudgemuch had been famous for something quite different! At law school, McJudgemuch was himself judged and ridiculed by his peers, for his rather bright, gaudy and downright outrageous clothing.
Now the only reminder he had of his former youthful years was one of his earliest robes that his dear wife had sown for him. It had become a little joke between the two of them. From the outside, the robe looked completely normal with its sombre black tone. But inside there was a magnificent lining of technicolor, which when opened beamed outwards like a rainbow. Since Mrs McJudgemuch died, however, Justice McJudgemuch stopped wearing his technicolor robe and became more and more judgemental and wore more and more black.
Every morning McJudgemuch had the same hearty breakfast of two bacon rashers, two black pudding sausages, two fried eggs, baked beans and fried tomatoes. Every morning he would get his court papers, black gown, wig and his case and walk to his beloved courtroom – ready to roar and sometimes have an occasional nap if a lawyer was particularly dull.
On this day McJudgemuch had woken up late and was now in a rush. He reached into his cupboard and picked out the first robe he could lay his hands on. It was, in fact, his old forgotten technicolour robe. He grabbed his belongings and rushed to court, cursing his watch and all the clocks and at one point he blamed his tardiness on the earth moving faster than usual! It couldn’t possibly be his fault that he was late.
Now on the very same morning across the city, Milo was also making his way to court. Milo looked like he was a thug, a hooligan, and generally a really mean, bad boy. I emphasise the word looked because actually Milo was secretly a very talented poet and had a very soft and compassionate nature. But life had been tough for Milo and he had learnt to look tough to survive his daily battles. His beautiful poems were lost and forgotten and he found a new vocabulary to defend himself with which was full of hurt and rage.
Milo arrived at courtroom 1, his palms were sweating and his heart was racing. He looked around for his loyal lawyer, Irene La Bonnecoeur. Irene was very small, so small that sometimes she was mistaken as one of the children! Unlike all the other lawyers, Irene wore very bright clothes. Irene thought life was too short to wear just black and white all day. The other defining feature of Irene was that she had the curliest gingery-est mane. When Irene was defending her children her ginger hair made her look like a proud lioness. Irene was not like the other lawyers, she loved the children dearly. Irene was able to see right through even the toughest children and she always tried to look for the best in them.
Milo knew he was in good hands but he was still very nervous. He had been in and out of the court a lot that year. Milo felt that when he was at court, Irene protected him. Sometimes the judges said that they thought he had a lot of potential. This was the only time Milo felt that even though he was there for being bad, he had everyone’s attention. In court bizarrely Milo felt that people cared for him and sadly it was the only time he was ever complimented.
To make Milo less frightened of McJudgemuch and the courtroom Irene told Milo to imagine McJudgemuch doing some pretty ridiculous things. Like McJudgemuch walking along the beach wearing socks and sandals, bright lime green Bermuda shorts and a long fur coat! Or to imagine him eating steak with chopsticks; or dancing the tango in a ballerina’s tutu! It worked, Milo smiled and momentarily relaxed.
Irene and Milo were ushered into the courtroom by the clerk. There before them was McJudgemuch looking particularly agitated and weary. He took one look at Irene and thought to himself that she was one of these new-fangled hippie-dippie lawyers.
He was even more annoyed by her outfit but couldn’t figure out why it caused him so much annoyance when somewhere deep inside he felt a little happier because of it. Then McJudgemuch turned his attention to Milo. “The little rascal,” he thought to himself I can only imagine what absolute mischief this one has been racking up, I’m going to throw the book at him. I’ll set him straight and off to somewhere that will teach him about rules, obedience and authority. That’s what he needs a good straightening out.
The hearing went on with Irene trying to defend Milo but because he was ashamed to tell her about his life she did not have the whole picture. The Prosecutor loved winning and sending naughty children to prison. That’s where they belong, out of sight and out of mind! Milo could see McJudgemuch judging him just like everyone else who didn’t know anything about him. He smiled to himself for a moment when he thought of curmudgeonly old McJudgemuch dancing the tango in a tutu. Little did Milo know that McJudgemuch caught him smiling to himself.
“Do you find this amusing young Sir? Are we are entertaining you sufficiently? Shall I ask the clerk to order you some popcorn, or maybe some ice cream?” bellowed McJudgemuch. “It seems that you have quite misunderstood the gravity of your situation and it is far from a smiling matter. What do you have to say for yourself, I’ve had quite enough from Ms La Bonnecoeur and Mr Prosecutor. Milo just looked at McJudgemuch blankly, frozen with fear. “Pipe up lad. I’m sure you have often a lot to say from the witness statements you could learn to wash your mouth out, from the foul language you have been exploding on to the innocent public. You seem the least bit remorseful and other judges have been rather too lenient on you. Well, I see before me a thug and a bully. I don’t like thugs or bullies.”
Milo stood up and exploded. “Well, I think you are a bully. Everyone thinks you are a bully. You think all children are bad because we dress and speak a certain way. What do you know about me, about my life? Did you think to ask me why I was living on the street and how that feels? I think all you judges are boring, fat, rich, old men who smoke pipes and only ever wear black, black, black. Send me down, didn’t expect much else from you anyway, McJudgemuch.”
McJudgemuch was shocked at hearing himself being called a bully. He still saw himself as the kind-hearted man he once was and no one had bothered to question otherwise – until now. He uncomfortably moved around in his chair and arranged his robes, whilst thinking of a response to address the fact that the courtroom had now turned silent.
It was at that precise moment that he saw a corner of his robe ceased over to reveal some of the technicolour. In that singular moment, all of the memories of happiness and love that had been associated with his life before Mrs McJudgemuch died came flooding back.
He felt renewed and immediately he was aware of how misguided he had been all these years. His Honour Justice McJudgemuch stood up. Irene, Milo waited with bated breath. Mr Prosecutor and the clerk inched backwards, expecting an almighty roaring.
And then McJudgemuch did quite an extraordinary thing. He took his robe off and reversed it inside out so that the Technicolour stripes were on display. How they lit up the courtroom! And then His Honour Justice McJudgemuch sat back down again.
“Right Milo, I think we got off to the wrong start and would like to start again at the beginning. I have some questions and if you help me answer them then I will know how best I can help you within my power”, McJudgemuch said in a firm but compassionate tone.
The rest of the afternoon McJudgemuch learnt about Milo’s childhood, his passion for poetry and also why he was smiling in the courtroom earlier! It was clear to McJudgemuch that he had judged too harshly and too soon without all the information. Milo hadn’t known affection, care or kindness for a very long time. Milo was actually a brave child, braver than anyone that McJudgemuch knew. Milo needed someone to care for and look after him and so that’s what McJudgemuch made sure happened.
And from that day forth His Honour Justice McJudgemuch was no longer known being the most fearsome and judgemental judge in all the land but the fairest and wisest. Indeed McJudgemuch also was known for being the most colourful and caring judge, because of the love that was sown into his technicolour robe, which he wore every day to court thereafter.
THE END
The tale of Amets: The little girl who couldn’t see & other stories
By Deepti V. Patel
There once was a girl, Amets, who couldn’t see. She had eyes like you and I, but everything she saw just was not what was there. Now you may be thinking, what does this storyteller mean, so I’d better explain.
When you and I close your eyes and open them to look around, depending on where one is we might see trees, birds or perhaps the sky and the sea. But when Amets would do the same and she was by the seaside, she would open her eyes and only see a desert as far as the horizon. If she was in the forest see could only see scotched land, where not even a weed could be seen.
Her parents became very worried and thought that she was a bit mad! So they took her a doctor of every kind. Poor Amets had to take all sorts of eye tests and the eye doctors would only scratch their heads, “Her eyes are perfect” they all would say. “There’s nothing wrong with her eyes, it is all in her head”.
So then her parents took her to see every doctor of the mind they could find. And one after another they all cheerfully concluded that Amets had no trauma of the mind and that in fact she was one of the sweetest little girls they had met in a long time. They apologised but they could not find and explanation for the functioning of her mind’s eye, except to say that it might just be a phase of her childhood imagination, which would pass, but there was nothing they could do.
So eventually Amets and her parents went home, exhausted they sighed. She is healthy they said to each other, but how can we protect her if she cannot see danger? They decided that the only thing to do was that she must remain indoors until she got better.
Amets spent all her days in her room – which she could not even really see! To her it had rotting walls and broken windows, so she always cried. Very sad indeed, especially as her parents had painted it in her favourite colours, with scenes of flowers and mountains and all the beauty of nature, which they hoped one day, she could see.
The days turned into months and months into years and Amets did not age a day from the moment her parents kept her inside to protect her. Amets would sit in her room and listen to music. Her parents read stories to her and taught her everything they could think of, in the hope that one day she would be able to see the world as everyone else did.
The seasons passed and it was one of those days in winter, that time of year where you can feel spring is just around the corner. Amets only knew the seasons from feeling them and putting her face out of her window.
Amets walked towards her window and opened it. Now usually instead of seeing the luscious garden her parents had, which was the envy of all near and far, all she saw was decaying flowers and burnt trees.
But on this day Amets noticed something very unusual. In the far corner of the garden next to a tree that was dying and the broken stone wall, she saw a little boy looking down. And as he bent down to touch the ground, Amets saw her first colourful flower! She cried tears of joy. The boy walked along the wall and anything he touched suddenly came to life. Amets had never experienced so much colour and beauty.
She ran downstairs and into the garden to find the boy. She just had to speak to him. Who was he, this mysterious little boy who brought life into her dying world. She ran past her parents to the wall in the garden. She was barefoot and there was white snow everywhere, she could not see it but her feet could feel the cold. Despite this she continued to run, she had to find that boy.
Out of breath she caught up with him and tapped him on the shoulder. The poor little boy was startled by Amets as he had been looking at a beautiful snow drop flower. Amets crouched next to the boy and whispered to him “How is it that everything you touch grows?”
The little boy smiled and his initial worry about Amets washed away into delight. “I just tell stories to them and tell them I love them? Isn’t that how everything grows beautifully?” Amets smiled too for at last she understood something that she had never appreciated all these years.
The little boy looked at Amets and said “If you like these, do you want to see something even more beautiful?” As Amets nodded with excitement, so he grabbed her hand and the two ran off. In the distance Amets’ parents were crying out her name and running after her, when they suddenly realised that it was she who was outside in the freezing cold.
The little boy and Amets ran through the woods behind Amets’ house. Her parents’ home was the boundary between the richest and the poorest part of the city. Whilst everyone else would walk past and see homeless families living in the most tragic conditions, as Amets ran she saw children living in palaces of warmth, love and laughter.
Snow started to fall but despite the bitter cold Amets kept running, she’d never before seen so much beauty and love. Then the little boy pointed to an opening “That’s my home. I live there with my mother”. Amets looked at the clearing where she saw beautiful glass windows and lights glowing from inside like woodland fairies lit up the house, which was a magical castle to Amets.
The little boy’s mother hugged Amets and asked if she was hungry, as she was making dinner. Amets eyes opened wide – Yes please! she exclaimed with such delight. She had never eaten at a friend’s home and she was so hungry with all the excitement she had not realised how much time had flown by.
Amets and the little boy played together while his mother cooked. When the little boy’s mother then called the two little ones in for dinner, across the woods Amets’ parents were frantically searching high and low for her. The snow was falling thicker and faster. It was the coldest night of the year.
What a feast the little boy’s mother had made! Amets thought as she looked around their table. How lucky he was to live here like a prince!
The little boy’s mother had tried to make as much as possible with the little food she had found that day and with the meagre wage she got from the factory she worked all day at. But still she was so embarrassed. This was the first time her son had brought a friend to where they lived and she only had stale bread, some squares of cheese and a few stewed beans to offer their guest.
Oh what a life I have given to my son, sobbing while she cooked, her tears of love had fallen into the beans and over the bread and cheese.
Amets was amazed at the banquet before her! She ate like a queen and gave the little boy’s mother a hug so tight, that his mother cried tears of happiness. Then they all huddled together by the last embers of the fire to keep warm and slowly they fell fast asleep, wrapped in love.
When Amets’ parents found her the next morning in a makeshift home, inside a concrete building tube, she was lying lifeless next to a frozen little boy and his mother.
But the Amets her parents found was no longer their little girl. She was finally the age her minds eye had been all along. She had turned into a beautiful old lady with long white hair and serenity graced her face.
Amets’ parents opened their garden and dedicated it to Amets and all souls who dream of a better world; those who see beauty even in the darkest corners and those deprived of love. There they meet and share their love with the plants and whisper the story of Amets and the little boy.
The garden’s flowers bloom all year round.
THE END