Dickey and Betty in the hotel bar in Nairobi...

     Dickey Simba sought a quiet corner of the main bar in the Park Safari Hotel in Nairobi.  He was there with Betty Chimpo.  After ordering drinks, Betty and Dickey sat aside from the few people mingling and chatting.  Dickey lit cigarettes for both. 

“I have a home in Mombasa,” said Betty.  “I would love to invite you there sometime.”

“Don’t tell me you're one of those seafaring freaks like Shane and Ashley Lyon,” he asked.  His brief scoffing chuff was brash and guttural.   

“No, actually, I use the house to kick back.  I don’t like water sports.  My cubs with Shane and Ashley dote on surfing and that sort of thing.  My first husband, Montecore, is a tiger and you know how they are about water.  We bought the property then.”

“I know all about Montecore and the Las Vegas scene.”

“Are you a water buff?”

“Anything but - I don’t even like to swim.  I can but would rather not.  I would think that Mombasa has its charms if you are addicted to garrulous seagulls and fish.”

“What is your favorite ambience?” she laughed, teasingly. 

“I’m of the interior variety.  All my favorite sports can be easily and happily accomplished indoors.  I’m certainly no jock.  I don’t even play soccer.”

“You’re very muscular and buff though,” said Betty. 

“All male lions are buff. It comes with the territory.”

Betty tried not being too obvious as she took in her companion.  His blond mane was thick, his jacket and jeans combination chic, the khaki eyes were clear and piercing.  She found him drop dead gorgeous.  How in the world was she going to work her way out of this predicament?  She was falling more in love by the minute.  She lit another cigarette and exhaled, hoping the act would quiet her racing heart. 

“Do you like kids?” she asked apropos of nothing.  Why the crap did I ask him that?  How ridiculous of me.

“Not particularly.  Apparently you do.  Don’t you have six?”  Inquired Dickey, the tawny eyes filled with amusement. 

“Yes, they are fine sons,” answered Betty, wishing they weren’t on this subject.  She seemed to be sounding him out as a future mate.   Oh shit, what to do now?

Betty found a quick out and took it, at least she thought it would solve the problem. 

“Shane told me that he had never felt the need to carry on his line and hadn’t particularly wanted offspring.”

Dickey threw back his head and laughed heartily. 

“For a guy who cared nothing for offspring he has pretty well littered the landscape with his progeny,” chuckled Dickey. 

“Do you like Shane?” she asked, feeling it was a good ploy to take them off the subject she had so imprudently brought into focus. 

“Of course I like him.  In fact, I’m one of the few members of the Simba pride that doesn’t kiss Roy Lee’s ass - I prefer Shane.”

“That IS different, most of you love and adore Roy Lee.  Shane and Sam certainly do.”

“My demented mother is a non-worshipper also.  I locked horns with Roy Lee over the geographical location for my schooling.  As was the pride’s way, he picked England for all of us.  I went to Holland instead.  It was not a popular move on my part.  Aunt Sarah Lee led the crew in going berserk at my choice of academic venue.  How dare I test the waters of Roy Lee’s upwardly mobile rush job and most gracious financial gifts?”

“You sound a smidgen on the embittered side,” noted Betty. 

“I got my way and received a wonderful education among the Dutch and their drug culture.  What a liberal nation they are.  I even managed a post graduate degree in law, stoned out of my gourd on hashish,” he laughed. 

Betty decided to go for broke.  Their third round of drinks had arrived making her bold. 

“Have you ever been in love, Dickey?”

Her heart was in her throat - damn girl, you just had to ask.  The liquor was no longer helping.

His eyes remained tranquil as he pondered the query for far too long for Betty's tastes.  Once more, she was a nervous wreck for asking a question and fearing the response. 

“There was a young Dutch woman in Amsterdam.  She came on to me.  Her first lion, I presumed.  As I say, the people of Holland will try anything once.  We stayed together for a bit.  But to answer your question – no, I’ve never been in love.”

“Well, that’s sort of different,” she managed to gulp. 

He seemed aware of her discomfiture, “Let’s go back to the room.  It’s getting crowded in here. The room service menu is quite good in this hotel.”

            Dina Myers picked up the tumbled clothing scattered about her apartment.  Sean Simba wasn’t there yet.  He had a meeting for the contract players on Lewis Lyon’s new pro-football team this afternoon.  She placed her lover’s jockey shorts, running pants and tee shirts in the washing machine and turned it on.   She made a drink and went to the living room to wait for Sean.  Three hours passed with no sign of her young lover.  She tossed the wash load into the dryer, made a fourth drink and returned to her vigil. At 10:30 pm, Sean burst through the door.  He smelled of liquor, his eyes hazy. 

“Where were you?” asked Dina, lighting a cigarette. 

“My teammates and I went for a drink at the pub,” was his response, as he squeezed her tightly around the waist with a muscular arm. 

“You could have called me, I would have joined you there,” pouted Dina. 

“It was a guy’s evening, no females allowed,” he laughed. 

“Where are we going with this thing, Sean?”

“What thing?”  Sean Simba was nothing if not thickheaded. 

“Our relationship,” shouted Dina, who was not obtuse. 

“I have to get into the football season and we’ll work from there.   You could end up being Mrs. Sean Simba,” he lied.  

“Really, Sean, is that true?” asked Dina Myers whose intellect in no way matched her poor self-esteem. 

“Of course, it’s true,” he said, removing her blouse. 

Sean comes home to Dina, whose home is a mess because of him....

The global newspapers read:

 NAIROBI, Kenya (AP) — Masai fighters battled rival tribesman with both sides using machetes, swords, bows and arrows on the final and bloodiest day of protests this week …….

            In Nairobi's Kibera slum and the coastal tourist town of Mombasa, police and demonstrators fought in the streets…..

            Three days of protests have dwindled in strength, but at least 22 people have been killed, including five who died in the ethnic fighting less than a dozen miles from the premier Masai Mara game reserve …….

            Shane Simba lay exhausted on the library couch.  It was late at night and he had spent all day trying to quell the rioting which now included some of the Masai and was very close to the Mara.  Alexandra Simba sat with her arm around her husband, her fingers stoking his thick mane. 

“It’s all going to hell, Alex, all our dreams…..everything.  I am helpless to end it,” he cried. 

“No, my darling, these are terrible times but you will win, I am sure of this.  I have total faith in you, Shane,” she sobbed. 

Alexandra comforts her husband....

            Pete Levin, Tanzania’s lion president took up temporary residency in the Mara, bringing with him his personal police force to aid those warding off attacks on the Masai Mara, our seat of government.  Shane was most appreciative of the help and Lewis Lyon defrayed any cost to him at the Four Seasons Hotel.  Imani Lyon was delighted to have her favorite squeeze again.  

            At the State House, it was a 24/7 affair.  No one went home except to take showers and change clothes.  This included the President and his lady, Alexandra.  The gates to the government compound were heavily guarded by members of the Kenyan armed forces.  My only contact with Lachlan was by cell phone.  As a psychiatrist, Lachlan is extremely busy now – more so than usual.  Times of severe crisis affect the emotionally disturbed on a greater level than the average Joe.  He is almost living in the Mental Health Center. 

             The weekend in Nairobi had ended well for Dickey Simba and Betty Chimpo.  The subject of children, commitment and former loves was not brought up again.  Dickey, being truly diplomatic in nature, eased Betty’s uneasiness and sent her back to the Mara in good spirits.  Of course he had said nothing and committed no part of himself but as long as things were still good between them, Betty would live with that.  

            This same week, Laura Leo took her place among the faculty on the Ralph Lyon Campus of Kenya University in the Mara.  Laura was teaching two literary courses in British authors, her late father’s specialty. 

            A strange friendship was formed between the troubled lioness and Betty Chimpo.  They were both teaching similar subjects and happened to sit at the same table in the cafeteria.  It was coffee time.  Betty recognized Laura. 

“I was a great admirer of your father, Laura.  He helped me when I was starting out as a reporter at the Daily.  Welcome to the faculty.”

“Thank you, Betty.  Dad was devoted to all of your columns and owns two copies of your biography of Ralph Lyon.”

“If I ever get ahead at some point and have the time again, I’d love to write a biography of your father, Laura.  William Leo was an extraordinary and remarkable animal – a real pace setter.”

“Oh, Betty, that would be absolutely splendid.  Just let me know when and I will give all the materials you need.”

            Two nights later, Betty invited Laura to join her for dinner at her home.  Wilda Wildebeest ate in her room.  She had never trusted uncontrolled lionesses – after all they were the ones that had done all the hunting in the old days.

 Four Seasons Hotel in the Mara..

            The Four Seasons Hotel was jam packed.  Ashley Lyon had moved his newest family nucleus consisting of Staci (Simba) Lyon and their small cubs, Cathy and Shane Adamson Lyon.  Lucy Cougar went to her parent’s guest house on Leoparde Drive.  Sloane, whose bush home was also in a dangerous outlying area, joined her there.  There were many pleasant evenings spent in the company of Lucy’s parents, Bernard and Sylvia Cougar. 

            Jack Tarzan remained in the home of his bride, Leah Simba Tarzan.  His home in the Cholulu Hills was in a troublesome area.  Old Patsy took over the kitchen and the youngsters.  The hired help enjoyed some leisure to catch up on the gossip. 

Sue Chimpo, sister to Betty, Gloria and Chico Chimpo....

            Betty’s sister, Sue Chimpo, the head of housekeeping at the Lewis Lyon Four Seasons Hotel, had finally ended her heavy drinking.  She had lived in a squalid manner for years with the janitor at CHANGING SPOTS, Olaf Orangutan.  Betty, her sister Gloria and their brother, Chico, had gifted the renewed Sue with a face lift.  Now she was living in the home of Gloria, who resides mostly with her husband, Bertram Baboon.  All the named residences are on Leoparde Drive. 

            Dickey Simba was exhausted.  Four of us had been working around the clock at the State House in an effort to stem the tide of riots and general destruction.  Shane Simba, his vice president Daniel Lyon, Dickey and I had been burning the midnight oil.  Now it seemed things were calming down.  The opposing tribes had decided on boycotts rather than violence for the time being – how long would the respite last?  Shane had told us to take a break.

“I could be calling you back at any minute but for now chill out.  And by the way, many thanks to you and the office staff,   you’ve gone beyond the measures for your country,” he had told us. 

            Dickey checked his watch.  It was late afternoon.  He phoned Betty Chimpo.  He hadn’t spoken with her since the weekend in Nairobi and the renewed crisis near the Mara. 

“It’s too damn late for coffee, how about drinks at my place?” he said. 

“You’ve never been to my house.  I won’t bite nor will my housemate if she’s even home this evening,” said Betty. 

“I know Wilda, she’s a cool character.  I also know you live on Leoparde Drive, just give me the house number.  I’ll be there in a few.”