Betty rose early from a heavy sleep.  She was acting on a recurring dream of four nights in a row and headed to the kitchen for coffee.  It was so early that Babs was not even scurrying around the area with her breakfast chores.  She took the coffee to her room and wrote several notes to pertinent animals in her life.  She had already phoned three animals last night with her plans.  She printed the notes, one for Babs, giving her instructions on the house and monies to run it, the other to Lachlan and the third to her sons, Solly, Tarek and Jalil, hoping their letter would be explained by those older than they.  Ashley Lyon was in the driveway as she exited her front door with two bags, her lap top computer and nattily dressed in khakis. 

            At the hangar in the Safari Club, she greeted Arlon and got in the plane with Ashley and her oldest son.  The plane, piloted by Ashley, pulled slowly out of the hangar and onto the runway, heading south.  There it stopped briefly as the engines roared, finding the necessary power for take off.  The Cessna finally rolled across the tarmac and ascended into clear skies.  It gained more altitude and made a straight course for the Gombe Stream National Park in Tanzania situated near the border of Burundi and facing Lake Tanganyika.  This was the place Betty Chimpo Simba had begun her life and this was where she planned to regain her balance after the appalling collapse of her marriage to Shane Simba.  She, Ashley and Arlon began to talk excitedly about her plans.  They were to stay with her for a week, helping her get situated. 

            Gloria Chimpo Baboon, having been handed the note saying that her sister would be away for a while – ‘not to worry’, she had added – was puzzled.  She and her husband, Bertram, were about to head out for a day at Baboon-Simba Studios, where they were co-writing their latest project, a fictional tell all about Shane Simba. 

            Shane Simba, having received her letter to Solly, Tarek and Jalil, stood in his office at the State House in another condition of bewilderment.  She had failed to mention her destination, only the fact that she had signed away any properties and alimony before she left the Mara.  She had chosen to be completely on her own financially and wanted nothing from Shane.   She would return to see the children from time to time.  Her note to him was curt and to the point, only requesting that he read the letter to Solly and the twins. 

            Another receiving a note was Wilda Wildebeest.  She opened hers over a cup of coffee, reading: 

            Ashley and Arlon got Betty established on the edge of the park in a rented cottage on stilts.  The small chalet faced the lake and the native fishing activities.  They drove her into town where she opened a bank account in Kigoma, the nearest burg.  She also bought a used Land Rover from the bank teller.  She, Ashley and Arlon then went to the local markets and shops where she purchased a generator for Ashley to install at her home in case of power outages. 

Betty's rented home on Lake Tanganyika in Tanzania......

            On the last evening of Ashley and Arlon’s stay, they grilled fresh fish and watched the sunset over the lake in glorious colors, drinking wine and Scotch.

            She drove them to the airstrip and waved as they took off in the early morning light.  She felt suddenly bereft, but fought it off, realizing that this simply had to be a new day for her.  It was a swim or sink moment and she gamely shook it off and headed back to her new digs. 

            Shane Simba was having an off day emotionally.  He sat in his home alone and wondered at the stupidity of losing Jane Leoparde.  He phoned Johanna Delacroix who made her way to the bush house to rendezvous with him for the weekend.  She arrived that evening among drinks and much heady sex.  They took a break from the boudoir and sat on the veranda overhearing the lions roar on the savanna. 

“You seem rather subdued, Shane,” commented Johanna, placing a slender hand on his face and stroking it. 

“My last lover was a lioness.  I had two children with her.  I have never known anyone else like her.  She is so complete and easy in her skin…..soothing to the soul,” he mused, as if he was speaking to himself only.  “I loved her deeply and lost her foolishly.”

“Why are you telling me this?” asked the alarmed Johanna. 

“I don’t know why.”

“Let’s swim for a bit,” she said, getting up and diving in the pool. 

He didn’t follow, just sat in on the chaise and stared emptily across the pool. 

Shane and Johanna at his bush home in the Mara.......

            Her first day alone, Betty made her way up the winding roads of the Gombe Park.  Her destination was the main office in the park where she would find information on her line of chimpanzees that Jane Goodall had researched so thoroughly.  She met the staff and took a tour of the region inhabited by the chimps.  The staff recognized her as the first lady of Kenya and was happy to accommodate her. 

“I am soon to be NOT the first lady of Kenya,” she told one of the wardens who showed her through the park.  “We are getting a divorce.”

“Sorry,” said the game warden. 

“Don’t be.  It’s for the best.”

             The fuzzy voice of Wilda Wildebeest came across the scratchy long distance line to Lake Tanganyika and Betty’s home.  Betty had emailed her old pal, telling her of the new phone number and other details.  Wilda had happily moved into Betty’s home on Leoparde Drive from her rather crowded place inhabited by her two married sons and their irritating wives. 

“Betts, how is it going?” honked Wilda.  

“I’m doing some research on my family and ancestors with the help of the park rangers here.  I am going to write a book about them soon,” shouted Betty.  “I wish you’d visit me.  I have a great little place.”

“I will in time.  Are you okay emotionally?” shouted Wilda over the dreadfully fuzzy connection.

“I’m at peace with things.  I’d love to see you, Willy.”

“I will call you soon and try to come.”

“Okay, Willy.”

            Arlon Lyon left for England three weeks early.  He needed to do some library work before he tackled his second year in university.  Ashley went home to Leoparde Drive to conquer the ghost of Leah.  His daughter, Imani, went with him - imperiously setting up house with much swagger and prissy posturing.  Ashley ignored his daughter’s commands for the most part and requested that Leah meet with him and decide what she wanted from him by way of anything.  Like his ex-wife, Betty, he was ready to bite the bullet, pick up the pieces of his shattered heart and move on. 

Ashley ready to move on after the heart break of losing Leah.....

            In a surprise move, Betty’s attorney, Bo Bonobo, contacted Sam Simba and sent divorce papers from Betty, releasing all property demands and only keeping the agreed upon joint custody of the three children she shared with Shane Simba.  Sam called his brother.

“Betty is divorcing you, Shane.  She wants nothing but the joint custody you agreed to.  She wants no property or alimony.”

“Where the hell did she go, Sam?”

“Bo wouldn’t say.  She signed everything that was needed before the she left the Mara.”

I happened to be in Shane’s office when Sam called.  After hanging up Shane asked me, “Did you know Betty was gone -any idea where she went?”

“I think Lachlan may know but of course that information would be confidential,” I told him. 

            I damn well knew where Betty had gone but only because Lachlan had told me in complete secrecy.  When he had received his note by way of Babs that early morning, he had read it and commented, “You go girl!”

 He had then handed it to me to read and say nothing later. 

“She is a go getter, Maury.  She always snaps back.  I’m very proud of this move.  Shane Simba was no husband for Betty to hang on to,” he had declared.

            Charlotte Elephanti called me in Shane’s office.  Chortling through the phone she said that she needed some advice.  Charlotte has never realized the full system of the current presidency in Kenya.  As far as she’s concerned she’s still the great elephant matriarch and all lions are subservient to her, including the presidents. 

“Maury, I am afraid that Cappie is gay.  He is just too into that silly job as bouncer at Montecore’s disco.  Do you think he’s gay?”

She was referring to her husband, the gigantic Cape buffalo, Cappie. 

“Charlotte, I don’t think Cappie is gay at all.  There seems nothing effeminate about him that I can detect,” I told her in candor. 

Shane Simba, overhearing the conversation and knowing full well the subject matter, burst into guffaws at the thought of any cape buffalo, much less Cappie the destroyer of many a heavy road vehicle, being a queen.  It was probably the heartiest laugh our president had gotten in a while.  

 “That makes me feel much better, Maurice,” said Charlotte.  “You must come to dinner soon.”

            Betty went to the beach at the first light of dawn. She had just finished coffee and a cigarette and wished to buy some fresh fish from the local men that threw nets from their boats and at night pulled them onto the shore in front of her home.  One appeared to be just setting out for the day.  As she came closer she realized it was a male lion.  With horror she started clapping her hands rowdily to drive him away, not noticing that he wore a pair of tattered cut offs.  He looked up, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, consternation on his handsome but scarred face. 

“I read that this was a way to drive away wild lions in the bush,” she exclaimed. 

“I’m not a wild lion in the bush and am certainly not afraid of some fool woman clapping her hands,” he stated. 

“I’m not a woman.  I’m a chimpanzee.”

“Oh, right you are.  I never saw one of those fuzzy wuzzys look even remotely like you,” he snarled.  “What did you want anyway?”

“I wanted to buy some fish from one of the fisherman when they returned.”

“Well, I’m a fisherman.  This is my boat.  I’ll be shored before sunset.  I’ll sell you some if I catch any. Be on the beach or I’ll forget.”

“Lions don’t fish.”

“Lady, you don’t know shit about lions and even less about chimps,” he shouted over the surf as he pushed the boat from shore and jumped in.  He cranked the flimsy motor and nosed it toward the deeper waters. 

“Oh you’d be surprised,” she muttered to herself as he headed for the depths. 

She went back to her cottage and turned on her lap top.  She had gotten to know a few chimps in the park and recorded their stories.  These she would write

            Shane Simba called Jane Leoparde and asked her to meet him at the bush house.  She was in her office at the Daily and told him she’d stop by after work. 

            He came to greet her as she pulled her car into the winding drive of his savanna estate.  He led her into the cool interior of his library where he made them drinks. 

“Janie, tell me what to do to get you back.  I’ve seriously miscalculated my need for you.”

“It’s not about you this time, Shane.  It’s about Luke and me and our coming litter.  He was there for me when you weren’t and I love him for it.”

“And your feelings for me?” he asked, patting one paw on his chest. 

“I will always adore you but your life is just too damn convoluted for me these days.  I will always love you, Shane, but for now, it is going to be Luke and our children.”

She placed the drink on the counter and left with a quick kiss to his lips.  She cried the entire way home. 

            The crimson sun was falling on the horizon when the male lion pulled his boat to shore.  Betty saw him from her porch and walked toward him.  He threw a small canvas square on the beach and tossed some fish on it. 

“Here is all I can spare for you today,” he told her, firing his cigarette with a plastic lime green Bic. “If you want more tomorrow, I’ll probably have some.”

Betty gathered the fish in a small bag she had brought with her.  “What’s your name?”

“Tarzan - like you need to know.”

“Tarzan?  What kind of name is that for a lion?” she laughed. 

“An assumed one,” he scoffed.  “Not my real one which I will not be sharing with you at any point in time.”

“You’re not very friendly, are you, Tarzan?”

“No, I don’t like bloody humans,” he growled. 

“I told you, I’m a chimp.”

“Yeah, and I’m fucking Marie Antoinette.”

            He strolled down the beach and entered a wooded area not too far away, disappearing from sight carrying his day’s haul of fish across his broad shoulders.   

Tarzan, the fishing lion on the shores of Lake Tanganyika........

            Johanna Delacroix took up temporary residence in Shane’s bush house.  He wanted the sex and a check on how she was with his kids.  He had adopted a halfway laconic take on life these days, being abandoned by both females he was accustomed to being with.  That first weekend, Johanna was inundated with Solly, Tarek, Jalil and the elder Sean.  Staci was not present due to an AIDS team trip.  Johanna dealt in a gamely way despite the fact that she was not accustomed to big cat young nor, for that matter, children of any persuasion.  Solly almost drowned her, the twins gifted her with multiple claw marks on her delicate skin but she managed to hold her own.  At night, during sensual, erotic romps in the sack, their father had to be careful not to wreak further damage to her injuries.  They copulated amongst a series of ‘ouch, Sweetheart, that hurts’ and ‘oh, that one’s too sore’.  Solly enjoyed padding down the hall and listening to the squeals of pain coming from behind his father’s bedroom door.