Shane Simba, the new Vice President of Kenya.....

The news of Shane Simba’s ascendancy to the vice presidency of Kenya sent shock waves of varying degrees through the Masai Mara. The Simba pride was astounded. Shane was among the younger of the sons of Sarah Lee. Sefu, an accomplished attorney and Ralph Lyon’s judicial head for Kenya, was bypassed in favor of the younger Shane. Ashley Lyon sat in shock in front of Leah, his wife. He got drunk as a road lizard before Leah finally convinced him that his father knew damn good and well, he didn’t want to interrupt the life style he loved for that particular post. Shane, himself, was floored that the President, who he almost hero worshipped, thought that highly of him. His children were ecstatic. They reaped the great rewards at school the day after it was announced. They all celebrated that weekend with their Aunt Tookie in their new home in Mombasa.

    Of them all, the most distraught was Betty Chimpo, who called Montecore weeping. He rushed to her home to comfort his much loved ex-wife.

"Monte, I thought I had a shot at him. He even let me see my boys. He got them from Sam and had them in Mombasa when I did the interview. Now......oh my god. He is in such an exalted position, he can’t possibly have a relationship with me, so saying he wants one when he recovers from his grief someday," she sobbed into a handkerchief loaned her by the white tiger.

"Betty, life has strange twists and turns. You can never tell. This is not the end by a long shot. The fact that he got your sons for you is a sign that he affords you  some amount of affection, despite your book," said Montecore, patting her slim back.

The following week, Bob Bushbuck called Betty to his office in the Masai Mara Daily building.

"I’m afraid I have to throw you to the wolves again, Betty. I need a big one on Shane Simba. Who better to send than you, whose former father-in-law appointed him. Do you mind?"

Betty could see the gleam in the back of Bob’s dark elk eyes.

"You know I don’t, you devil, you," she answered with a wink.

"So jump on it, Betty. I know you’ll bring me back a story you can sharpen swords with."

First,  Betty approached her former father-in-law and dear friend, President Ralph Lyon, to get the skinny on why he selected Shane Simba to take the place of his best friend and respected Vice President, Bernard Cougar. She was in his office on a late afternoon.

"Let’s go to the presidential house and have a drink with Millie. I’ll tell you all about it there, Betty," said Ralph, leading the way to his new home built on the lands adjoining the State House.

    The First Lioness came out and greeted Betty warmly. Betty had brought their grandson, Arlon, to see Mildred while she spoke with Ralph. I joined them in the garden of their recently built home. Arlon remained in the den playing video games.  Betty kissed my cheek.

"Maury, this is so exciting," she said. 

"So you want to know why I chose Shane Simba? Is that it? Do you think I should have chosen Ash, Betty?" asked Ralph.

"No, Ralph. I just want to know your reasons for doing this. I imagine Ash loves the life he already lives," answered Betty.

Mildred and I talked quietly to the side as Betty interviewed Ralph.

"Shane Simba has something I have not seen in another animal. He has a force, a charisma. He's a bulldog.  When he gets something by his teeth, he doesn't let go until he's perfected the damn thing.  When he lost his wife, instead of collapsing, he asked me for further duty. I knew even then that Bernard Cougar wanted to retire. I gave Shane the assignment he asked for in Botswana. He went beyond my expectations in carrying it out. He was nothing short of magnificent. When Bernard, who was waiting for Shane’s return, told me he wanted his retirement, as soon as possible, I knew Shane Simba was my choice for vice president. I sat with Berns and Mandiba (Nelson Mandela) late into the night. We put our heads together and realized Shane Simba should eventually hold the future of Kenya in his paws."

"Can you set up an interview for me with him, Ralph, please?" asked Betty.

Ralph looked at Betty long and hard before replying.

"Betts, I think you can do that on your own. Don’t you?"

Bernard and Sylvia Cougar were lyrical upon his retirement. She gave notice that she would not be running for Mayor of the Masai Mara again, put her very efficient secretary in charge of the office and took off with her husband for ten days of fishing off the boat she had given him, in Mombasa.  They were like two honeymooners as they carried bait to his boat and watched the sunset over the indigo Indian Ocean.

Retired Vice President, Bernard Cougar and his wife, Sylvia.

Betty hadn’t seen Shane Simba since that weekend in Mombasa when he had her sons with him.  She called him in his new vice presidential office.  He consented to see her at his home on State House Road the following day. 

Lucy Cougar Simba hated the sight of her pregnant sister, Chloe Cougar Simba.  Chloe came to Bernard and Sylvia's house the night before they headed for Mombasa and their extended fishing trip.  She was pregnant, smoking and drinking a Bloody Mary.  Lucy was jealous of the fact that Chloe could abuse any pregnancy and it would continue unharmed with no apparent debilitating effects whereas, she, had never had one go to completion despite the proper diet and nutrition.  Chloe, ringed with a wreath of cigarette smoke, sat at a table in her parent's garden, chatting with Bernard and Sylvia about their upcoming Ocean trip.  Her younger sister seethed in a chair at the same table.  Lucy was also disturbed that her husband, Alexander, was working late many nights and couldn't even be reached on his cell phone.

When Betty arrived at Shane Simba's home for her appointed interview, the house boy led her to the study, where Shane stood over Staci, who was sitting at a desk, pen in paw.  Shane was explaining something to her.  He looked up, his tawny eyes taking her in. 

"Betty, can we go to your house?  Staci has pulled together a small political club among the students at her school.  They're meeting here this evening. We'll just be in the way with our interview."

"Yes, Shane.  My home is available.  Arlon is with his friend, Tigger.  There's only my house keeper, Babs, to be disturbed."

She tried to smile despite the fact that it felt as if her blood was flooding her face and  brain, making loud crashing noises as it rioted through her head.  She led the way in her car to the newly built and very magnificent home on Leoparde Drive.  When he entered, he stood for a moment in the entrance hall.

"This is lovely, Betty."

"I thought I might as well go gauche," she said, smiling. 

Babs was off duty and upstairs.  Betty fixed their drinks and took them to her stunning living room.  She got out her tape recorder and they discussed his ascendancy to the vice presidency for a while.  His glass emptied and she returned to the kitchen and brought out the full bottle of Scotch.  He lit a cigarette, as did she. 

"Staci is lovely, Shane.  I know you are so proud of her."

"I adore both my kids, Betty.  They are the ones that deserve a life now......not me," he said, taking a gulp of his drink and going to the tray for another. 

Her heart was in her throat but she grabbed the bull and the moment by the horns .....it was all or nothing.

"And you think you don't?"

It hung in the room like a time bomb about to rip the thin, fragile air.  He stood up.

"I don't because of what I did to her."

"Who, Catherine?"

"No, don't!  Don't say her name, Betty."

"Why not say her name, Shane?" asked Betty, standing as if in a trance but fully cognizant as to what she wanted to accomplish. 

"I can't hear it....please stop."

"Shane, you can leave my home tonight and I may never see you again, but you have to know that you made your wife happy.  She was a beautiful, brilliant, complicated and very confused female.  You were the one that stoked the fires that drove her.  Without you, the comparative stability, the family life and the children you gave her, she would have probably died in an insane asylum.  Her own mother has told me this, Shane."

He dropped heavily onto the sofa. The sobs began low in his chest and progressed to his throat where they emerged in half sobs mixed with terrible rending moans.  Betty lost count of the time but it seemed hours that he sat collapsed on her couch crying his heart out over his dead wife.  Letting the dam burst on his intense grief.  He had loved Catherine beyond measure but mixed with his guilt, her loss had been almost more than he could bear.  The weeping finally ended.  He stood up and went to the whiskey bottle to pour another. 

"This is the first time I have been able to cry  for Catherine, Betty.  Thank you for what you did and said."

"You said her name, Shane."

"I know I did."

He put his glass down and held her to him.  She was trembling so she feared she might drop to her knees and fell him too. 

"I haven't made love since her death."

"I'm sure you can now, Shane."

"Betty, will you make love to me? I know how it was the last time and I will go to my grave regretting that."

Her blood sang in her ears. She thought she would die of ecstasy and wondered if one could actually do that.  She turned her face to up to his great height.

"I have dreamed of this, Shane."

He lifted her in his arms and followed her directions to her bedroom.  There they spent hours of tenderness mixed with passion of such intensity it rocked the very depths of body and soul. It was borne of his finally released pain and her long and very intense love for him.   At three in the morning he rose from her bed.

"I have to go home before my children miss me, Betty.  They are accustomed to coming into my room at all hours of the night and finding me there."

"Shane, I want you to know I'm always here for you.  I don't care how small a role I play in your life, I just want to play it."

He sat on the side of the bed and held her in his arms.

"Betty, I am  working on only a few cylinders.  I am terribly damaged goods.  I can't promise you anything.  I'll call you tomorrow. I have meetings all day today and into the evening."

    He got  up again and put on his clothes, blew her a kiss and was gone.  She lay in the bed for a while letting the rapture envelope her.  She had no illusions that this would be an easy road.  She had unleashed the fierce sexuality that lay imprisoned within the walls of his grief for Catherine and there were no guarantees as to what that would entail.  But she would take her chances. She so loved this male.  Her course was set, her ballast held steady.  She wanted to go where Shane Simba led.  She hugged herself as she went to the kitchen.  Babs was making breakfast. 

"I see your dreams came true last night.  I saw the great lion as he left this morning.  He's quite the gent," was Babs appraisal of the vice president of Kenya.    

 Betty went to her office in the Masai Mara Daily and wrote a story of such magnitude about  Shane Simba that Bob Bushbuck whistled when he finished reading it.  This was Pulitzer material, he thought to himself.  He knew his news director well and had for a long time.  There was nothing like heated sexual passion and politics to create a heady mixture to titillate the voracious public.