Maurice & Friends

President Shane Simba has been summoned as one of the African leaders to intervene in the crisis in Zimbabwe.

“I guess I have to go, right, Maurice?”

I was in his office with the morning’s paperwork.

“I think you do, Sir. After all several other leaders aided you in our crisis in Kenya recently,” I responded.

“Right you are, Maury. I will have to ask you to accompany me. I know you hate to leave the bliss of bush life, but I will need you.”

I laughed softly. Shane knew I was having a difficult time adjusting to my rather primitive and inconvenient homestead in the savanna that I shared with Lachlan.

“I suppose I could use a luxury hotel. Good place to wash my socks,” I giggled. “Maybe I’ll take some additional laundry and wash it while I’m in Zimbabwe.”

“I will gladly have a washer and dryer delivered to you, Maury, compliments of the house,” he guffawed.

“It would be to no avail…..we lack connections.”

“How miserable,” he muttered. “I can’t imagine laundry as an issue.”

I had to be amused. Shane is the exact opposite of the lions in our neck of the woods that remain nude to the consternation of our recent visitors, Bertram and Gloria Baboon. Shane is a male lion so sartorially splendid that he could never imagine not having his clothing on demand and spotless.

we confer in my office.....

Dickey Simba took his wife, Cutty, on a delayed honeymoon. His choice of venue was a mistake. He chose Amsterdam, the city he had schooled in and recently taken Betty Chimpo for a short holiday. Instead of strolling on the river banks and finding interesting cafes and museums, Dickey scored some hashish and with bottles of wine in addition – became morose and withdrawn. Cutty decided to do the city alone since her hubby seemed to be having his own special time in their hotel room.

Cutty Sark Simba does Amsterdam alone.....

We all seemed to have engaged in dust ups of varying degrees. Betty Chimpo argued with Shane about going to Zimbabwe with him. On the eve of my departure for the same destination, Lachlan and I engaged in one of our rare disagreements. We have always been on the same page regarding lifestyles.

“Maurice,” he began, leaning against the wall in our bedroom. “I imagine you’ll be happy to be out of the bush for a few days. I know Shane Simba’s fancy hotels are more to your liking.”

I stopped midway, as I packed what clean underwear I could find.

“That’s not terribly fair, Lach. You know I’ve not complained about this place.”

“I know that, sweet Maurice. That’s the problem – I have imposed all of this savanna living on you because of my desire to be a planter. You’ve said nothing – just gamely gone along with it. I guess I feel guilty.”

I stopped what I was doing and locked my arms around his waist.

“Lachlan, I want to share this agricultural life with you. It is a noble thing you are doing. I love the feel of the bush; after all I’m an animal too. I love you and will be content wherever you are.”

“I don’t deserve you, Maury.”

“Shush. We love each other and you are the absolute best, Lachlan.”

Shane overcame his petulance at Betty for not joining us and by the time we were settled in hotel suites in Harare, Zimbabwe, he was on the phone to her.

I managed to get Lachlan on his cell phone and we cooed sweet nothings to each other. Later, I sent a large bag of laundry to the hotel’s cleaning service which was an immense relief. Much later, after meetings and over drinks, Shane told me that anytime I felt the need for civilization, I was free to use the guest cottage on the State House grounds or any free rooms in the mansion.

“I love the solace of the bush, Maurice. I spend almost all my free time at my savanna house,” he soothed.

There were major differences between Shane Simba’s magnificent estate in the bush country and the rather primitive home Lachlan and I had taken residence in. Like diamonds and bottle caps, I’d say.

I was so proud of Shane in our meetings with the tyrant Robert Mugabe of Zimbabwe. Several heavy duty African leaders were there but Shane was the one that seemed to impress him the most. Maybe it was the lion factor. Shane does have a way of baring his teeth while making a point which one could find unsettling if one is human. Although an ape, I had long become accustomed to it. Obviously Mugabe was not. He cringed when Shane bared his fangs. I had to stifle a giggle. I noticed the leader of South Africa attempting to suppress his amusement. A male lion in designer threads is, after all, still a lion.

Shane's unnerving habit of baring his teeth during a political discussion.....

Cutty and Dickey Simba arrived late one evening from their disastrous honeymoon in Amsterdam. The next afternoon Cutty was ringing Betty Chimpo’s doorbell. Betty really doesn’t know Cutty Sark Simba. Cutty had joined the staff at the State House long after Betty’s tenure as first lady. However, Cutty knows Betty as the one that her husband Dickey carries a torch for. With this in mind, Cutty pressed the doorbell a third time.

Babs led the young woman to the veranda where Betty was enjoying a martini. After rather strained greetings and a drink for Cutty, the two sat down to chat.

“Congratulations on your marriage to Dickey. He’s a great lion,” said Betty, who was less than comfortable.

“He’s in love with you, you know,” announced the new Mrs. Simba, lighting a cigarette and exhaling smoke on her hostess.

“I don’t think he is really that, Cutty. Dickey never committed to me. In fact, he really didn’t seem to care for commitment,” said Betty, lighting a Kool.

“He married me on the rebound from you,” argued Cutty.

“Rebound from what? Dickey would see me occasionally and then take a powder. He never even suggested marriage to me, Cutty. Dickey, as you probably are well aware of, has emotional problems,” countered Betty.

“And now I have them too,” said Cutty, bursting forth in loud sobs.

Betty immediately went and sat beside the distressed girl.

“Want to talk about it? They say I’m a good listener,” she offered, patting Cutty’s hand.

“Do you mind, Betty?” hiccupped Cutty.

“Not at all – tell me about it.”

“I’m back in Kenya and at the State House,” announced Shane Simba. “I’m heading for the bush house, want to join me? I’ll pick you up and we’ll go together.”

“I have to go to the University first and get the final scheduling on my classes for next semester. I’ll join you there later, darling,” said Betty who was on her way out the door.

Betty spent one night with Shane in his bush house before he swept her up to join Ralph and Mildred Lyon on Simba One for Nelson Mandela’s 90^th birthday celebration in Hyde Park in London. There, on the site of Shane’s university days, the foursome wined and dined.

“Betts, when are you going to write the definitive biography of this young chap?” asked Ralph, slapping Shane on the back. “You did such a great job of mine.”

Betty giggled and squeezed Shane’s hand.

“Shane had rather I’d not write more books about him, Ralph,” she said.

“She’s already written a few which were scandalous in nature,” laughed Shane, giving Betty a kiss.

“I’m not terribly detached from him emotionally, Ralph. I think one needs to have a good and very clear view of a biography subject,” explained Betty.

“I agree, Betty. Now let’s head for that bistro that Shane says is so good. I am ready for a steak,” said Mildred.

Ralph Lyon, Nelson Mandela and Shane Simba on the podium at the birthday bash.....

Betty and Shane get caught up in photographers at the same bash.....

When I returned from my trip to Zimbabwe with Shane, I found that Lachlan had worked overtime with his helpers in getting our home more functional. There was even a washing machine and dryer with full connections.

“These were delivered from the State House. I assume they are a gift from Shane. I got the chaps working overtime and they are all rigged up,” announced my love, proudly.

“Everything looks wonderful, Lach. Now let us have a drink on our terrace and listen for the bush sounds. I’ve missed them…..and you.”

Staci Simba, Shane's oldest offspring....

Staci Simba sat in her former stepmother’s living room having a drink. It was a rain chilled early evening and Betty Chimpo had a fire going. Staci had called to ask if she could visit. Betty and her father had just returned from London.

“I’m so glad to see you, Staci. I have a housewarming gift for you that I haven’t found the time to deliver. How are you and the cubs enjoying Maurice’s place? It’s such a wonderful home.”

“The kids love it. Cathy and little Shane love the yard.”

“I know Maury must miss being there, but I’m glad you’re my new neighbor.”

“May I get personal, Betty?” asked Staci, pouring another glass of wine for herself.

“Of course you may, Staci. After all, I was your surrogate mom,” giggled Betty.

Betty, I wish you’d remarry Daddy. I know he wants that.”

“The reason is very simple, Staci. I fear what would happen. You know how I have been in love and obsessed with your father since I met him. I am just afraid if we married again, Shane would overreact and get skittish – the hurt would begin all over again.”

Betty looked pensive, her dark eyes stained with tears. She lit a cigarette.

“I thought at one time that Mummy was the love of his life but now I think you are, Betty.”

“Shane and I have this odd dance we do but we are so bonded. Some of our bonds are terrible but some are more than just wonderful,” mused Betty.

“I see Daddy really changing….I think the change is genunine this time, Betty.”

“I was such a piss poor first lady and he would notice that all over again, Staci.”

Staci giggled and poured another wine.

“Daddy doesn’t care about that any longer. Alex did the first lady thing with one hand tied behind her back and it didn’t save her ass,” she laughed.

“I wonder what happened with that, Staci. Shane told me that he had never loved anyone like he did Alexandra.”

“I never thought my dad would last long with a human. He had that Johanna and then the redhead that he tortured Mummy with and those didn’t last.”

“I think Shane takes to other felines,” chuckled Betty.

“I think he takes to you, Betty - but go at your own pace with him. I don’t blame you for not rushing. I’m sure it’s scary to love my dad,” giggled Staci.

“He’s something else. Shane Simba is like no other creature on earth,” said Betty. “And I love him with all my heart and soul.”

“You two will work it out. I have all kinds of confidence in you two and love you both,” said Staci.

The next one to address the issue of Betty remarrying their father was Jalal Simba, one of the twins that Betty and Shane had produced. Jalal and Tarak were in summer school in South Africa. On a weekend jaunt to the Mara, Jalal and Tarek joined their parents in Shane’s bush house. He caught Betty on the terrace while Shane was engaged in a tennis game with Lewis Lyon.

“Why don’t you cut the crap and marry Dad again?” inquired Jalal sucking up a coke in a matter of seconds.

“How charmingly you put that, Jalal,” laughed his mother. “I believe that is sort of your dad’s and my business.”

Jalal grabbed another cherry coke from the cooler and returned to the pool where he was horsing around with his twin