Maurice & Friends

Sloane Simba phoned a surprised Caitlin Cougar and issued an invitation she couldn’t refuse. He invited her to his mother’s home for supper. When he arrived at her cottage, he told her that he assumed she wanted to take her own car just in case his great weight should turn his sports car over. She couldn’t help but laugh at this reference to her comment on the size of male lions. She agreed and followed him to the Simba pride territory where they parked in front of a neat, shaded bungalow with a glut of blooming pots scattered about the grounds and front veranda. They were greeted by a lioness, holding a martini glass and cigarette in a long jeweled holder. Sloane introduced her as his mother. Leander greeted Caitlin warmly and ushered them in her living room which was furnished comfortably with sturdy tables, cushy chairs and a flowered fabric couch.

“I must see to the take out. I ordered it from Wally Warthog at the pub. It should be first-rate,” informed Leander.

When she had gone to the kitchen, Sloane explained the take out.

“Mom’s sister and co-wife loved to cook so Mom never bothered to learn. She eats at Aunt Sarah Lee’s for every meal.”

“So lion prides consist of harems?” asked Caitlin, who harbored a beginning fascination for the species.

“You could say that. Two males have all the lionesses between them. Some much larger prides have more than two males. The males aren’t related so there is no incest or questionable DNA in the pride. Mom and Aunt Sarah Lee married the lead male – my dad, Sean. He’s dead now.”

Leander joined them again. She asked Caitlin all about herself. Caitlin told of her youth in Montana and her decision to come to the Masai Mara. Sloane made Caitlin a regular martini and himself a Scotch.

The meal was tasty and well presented. The enjoyable conversation continued at the table with Leander smoking continually. Caitlin was still curious about lion prides so she asked Leander the next question.

“Did your husband have anymore wives than just you and your sister?” inquired the curious cougar.

“Oh yes, Sarah Lee and I had two other sisters that were mated to Sean as well. One ran off with a roaming male lion that was not part of our pride and the other lives with her daughter in Tanzania. These are new times. The old pride system has fallen apart.”

“But you all seem to stick together as a family,” noted Caitlin.

“We try, dear. It is just more difficult now except for the fact that President Lyon outlawed take over by rogue males and the killing of cubs. Also we keep our sons around these days. The males used to kick them out of the pride when they reached sexual maturity. This is a better arrangement,” she said, patting Sloane on the knee.

Caitlin left Leander with a huge hug. She had enjoyed herself immensely. Sloane took her to her car, opening the door for her. She drove off, waving merrily. As Sloane and his mother stood on the porch catching the last bit of dust from Caitlin’s retreating automobile, Leander hugged her son.

“You like this young female, Son. I can see it.”

“I just want to get her into bed, Mom. You know me,” he laughed nervously.

“No, this is different, Sloane. You have never brought one home to meet me.”

The next day at the Masai Mara Daily, Caitlin pulled up a chair to Jane the lioness’ desk.

“Jane, will give me permission to do a story, please?”

“If it’s good, of course I will, Caitlin.”

“I want to write a series of articles on the changing face of lion prides in Kenya today.”

“Wow!” said Jane, lighting a cigarette. “This is a sea change. I thought you were afraid of us.”

“I met a very interesting lioness and she told me of things as they were and are now.”

“And who was this fascinating lioness you spoke with?” teased Jane.

“Oh, just someone I met the other day.”

“Ummm huh, and I’ll bet her last name is Simba.”

If a blush could be seen through fur, Caitlin would have been beet red.

Jane laughed and said, “I’ll run this past Bob Bushbuck. I know he’ll approve it so start writing.”

Betty and Shane were on the veranda with their evening drinks. For the first time since her second round of chemo, Betty pulled her turban off in full light. Her hair had not fallen completely out and was growing in again. She tousled it with her fingers.

“Fifi, your hair looks great short. I think the term is gamine. You look like a delectable sprite,” said her spouse.

"I didn’t know you fancied elves, darling,” she laughed.

“As long as they are the female variety, I don’t mind.”

Shane admires Betty’s new look…..

Caitlin went to the library to research and phoned Leander to get more details from her. The lioness was only too happy to speak of the prides and their immense changes under Ralph Lyon and his government. She began writing the first installment of what would be a three tiered report on the changing face of lion prides in the new Kenya. Her sculpting was forgotten for the moment. She wrote on her laptop computer until late in the night. She didn’t answer her phone and forgot her voice mail in the delight of writing her material.

When Jane saw the first installment, she was pleasantly surprised. Not only was Caitlin a sculptress but she was a better than average writer.

The first article graced the Sunday edition of the Masai Mara Daily. Shane Simba showed it to Betty.

“Damn, Betty, this writer’s style reminds me of yours. She’s great. Look at this article about lion prides. She quotes Aunt Leander.”

Betty took a look.

“That’s Bernard Cougar’s niece. We met her at that little get together, remember?”

“She’s one hell of a writer. I wonder how she got to know Aunt Leander.”

Wonder, indeed! Her method of meeting Aunt Leander was desperately trying to phone Caitlin. Sloane Simba had called day and night hoping to get another date with Caitlin Cougar. His calls had not been returned although he had registered them all on her voice mail.

The entire time Luke Leoparde was on air safari with his latest clients his mind kept returning to Caitlin Cougar. He began to regret that he had said those things about commitment and the fact that he never would again. He had tried to call her from Namibia with no results. He landed in the Masai Mara and went straight to her home. Her car was gone. He left a note on her door.

Mildred and Ralph Lyon spent their first weekend in their sumptuous villa in Mombasa. Mildred wasn’t particularly fond of water but she didn’t have a phobia about it as Ralph did. Bernard and Sylvia; Dorian and Cynthia were there that weekend. Ashley and Leah came over and tried to convince Ralph to go deep sea fishing with them.

“Are you nuts?” he roared. “I’m not going out in any damn boat.”

“Dad, you’ll catch some great fish to put on the grill,” enthused Ashley.

“Those are available at the supermarket if I wanted them. I don’t even like fish, Ash,” he protested.

“Dad, why did you build this elaborate house if you hate everything about the beach?”

“Berns wanted me to,” was Ralph’s desultory response.

The entire weekend in Mombasa was a bust. Luke Leoparde seemed depressed the full time because he couldn’t find Caitlin Cougar. Arlon was having extra soccer practice and hadn’t come with them. Finally, Ashley called Shane Simba to see if they were in Mombasa and wanted to surf and wind sail with him. They weren’t there. Leah and Ashley packed their kids and went home a day early.

Jane, the lioness, took the second installment of the pride series from Caitlin and read it over.

“This is exceptional writing, Caitlin. Let’s celebrate with a drink at the pub, shall we?”

“You really like it, Jane?”

“I honestly do. It’s superb and your facts are so clear and concise.”

The pub was packed. It was beginning to reflect a pre-holiday spirit. Gaiety was in every nook and cranny of the huge establishment. A group of animals had raised their voices in song in one far corner. Jane couldn’t find a table for them so they made their way to the bar and squeezed in. Caitlin was about to order a chocolate martini but suddenly changed her mind and asked for a Scotch. She had no idea what prompted the sudden change in the drink order. She lifted the glass to her mouth and tasted the smoky liquor. With her eyes closed she stood and took in the aroma of the Scotch which was so distinctive.

“You’ll find Scotch the king of liquors,” stated a voice next to her.

Her eyes flew open to see Sloane standing next to her with his glass. He lit a cigarette and exhaled toward the ceiling.

“May I have one of your cigarettes?” she asked. “I forgot to bring mine.”

He took a pack from his pocket and held it toward her. She took one and he lit it. The entire time they had never taken their eyes from each other. He broke the spell.

“Those stories on the prides are superb. One would think they are written by a lion if one didn’t know better.”

“You lions are interesting animals.”

“You think so? I can teach you more about us, if you like,” he mocked.

“I’m sure I know what that would entail. I used to watch the Discovery and Animal Planet channels in America. It seems you were always having sex – in the open grass.”

“Those were the old days,” he laughed. “Now we do it inside in a more idealistic setting. No more romps in the bush grass for us.”

“I don’t think I could take sex with a lion,” she said, placing her glass on the bar.

She didn’t see Jane so she headed for the parking lot and her car. She fumbled with her key trying to open the door. She felt something on her shoulder. It was Sloane. He turned her around and held her tightly. She had never been kissed like that in her life. She felt the heat to her toes. He kissed her over and over again. She knew she was experiencing something akin to a melt down when she started kissing him back. She pushed away from him and began to weep. She pulled her door open and jumped in the car, locking the door. She started the engine and drove off not thinking to check and see if he had stepped aside. She was furious with herself for having cried in front of him. When she reached the house, she ran inside and locked that door. She took three Tylenol PM and tried to sleep. Slumber eluding her, she went to her kitchen and opened a bottle of wine. She took it to her bed. The phone began to ring. She didn’t answer. It rang off and on for an hour. Finally it ceased. Between the Tylenol and wine she finally fell into a restless sleep.

The next morning with a fuzzy tongue and headache, she awakened. She got coffee and decided to spend the day sculpting. Luke Leoparde called and she answered. He invited her to have dinner that evening. She accepted; anything to blot out the memory of Sloane Simba, his erotic kiss and her upsetting reaction to it.

Caroline Cheetah found her niece, Staci Simba, at her mother’s house when she arrived for a visit. Staci and Cynthia were looking through a new coffee table book when Caroline walked in. She immediately sat down and began to play to Shane’s daughter. Staci had the same character as her grandmother, Cynthia Cheetah, and treated her aunt with warmth and respect. After an hour, Caroline invited Staci to go to her house. Staci, truly liking her aunt, accepted the invitation.

At four o’clock sharp Shane’s car drove up to Caroline’s house. A Masai guard got out and came to the door. He asked for Staci in his formal way.

“I’ve come for Bibi (Miss in Swahili) Staci,” announced the warrior.

Staci gave her aunt a quick kiss on the cheek and rushed to the car.

“Shit!” snarled Caroline. She had hoped Shane would come for his daughter.

Caitlin, after further research in the library, realized that more and more male lions were opting for single marriages instead of full blown prides. She decided to base her third and last installment on this factor. Unsettling to the female cougar was the fact that she needed to interview some of the males to get their take on the matter. This would be the difference between a hard hitting article and one with no real teeth. She spoke with her aunt, Sylvia Cougar, on this matter. Sylvia told her she would ask around and get back to her as soon as possible. Being the efficient animal that she is as well as one with the most social connections, she invited Caitlin to have drinks with Bernard and her that evening and get the list of male lions that were willing to be interviewed for Caitlin’s third and final article on lion prides.

She met with Chief of Police, Bubba Simba, at his office in the Masai Mara Courthouse. She found him to be a nice sort, simple and down to earth. He sat her down with a Coca Cola and gave his views on why he preferred the old pride system of marriage.

“I’ve got four lionesses and I can have as many more as I can feed. Since my brothers all married single females I stay on the pride territory and over see everyone. I like it this way. It’s the way my pop did it and I’m carrying on for him,” Bubba told her.

She was lucky to get an interview with Vice President Shane Simba but such was her aunt and uncle’s influence. She met with him of an evening at his home. His wife, Betty, greeted her warmly and led her to where he sat on the veranda, smoking a cigarette. He rose to welcome her. Betty got her a martini and then sat down very close to him, stroking his shoulder all the while with her slim, beautifully groomed hands.

“I spoke with your brother, the police chief, who prefers a pride system of marriage. Now, I do appreciate your giving me your views on marriage with a single female.”

“I want to commend you on this article, Caitlin. It is superb writing. Your style reminds me of my wife’s. As to why I didn’t prefer the pride system, it was obvious to me a long time ago that I didn’t want a bunch of lionesses all over my case,” he laughed, setting her at ease. “I can only deal with one female at a time and am not terribly adept at this.”

Betty laughed and gave him a kiss to his cheek. It was obvious to Caitlin that Betty adored her husband. The interview went pleasantly and then Shane surprised Caitlin.

“Would you like to interview the President, Caitlin? He has a most interesting arrangement. He heads a pride and his wives are not all lionesses. And he lives only with the First Lioness at the State House.”

“Would he see me? I really want to meet him.”

Caitlin Cougar appeared very nervous as I escorted her into Ralph Lyon’s inner office connected to mine. Ralph stood and greeted her.

“Oh, Sir, I can’t believe I’m here,” she gasped.

“What would you like to drink, young lady?” asked the president, beckoning the houseboy.

“Oh, anything, Sir.”

“I think you could use an alcoholic beverage. You seem nervous. Please don’t be in awe of me. I’m not really worthy of that much reverence. Now, Shane tells me that you want to complete your splendid set of articles with one on the males not having prides any longer. What would you like to know of me?”

“The Vice President says that you have a pride but don’t live there and that…..some of your wives are not lionesses.”

“That’s very true young lady. I live in a recently constructed home on the grounds of the State House with my main lioness, Mildred. In my pride compound live the rest of my wives and their extended families. Any of my children that want to live there are most welcome. The more the merrier, I always say. As for the different species, I have only one wife that is not a lioness. She is a wonderful dik dik that oversees the activities in my pride. I divorced a leopardess not too long ago to marry your cousin, Nat Cougar. They seem very happy together.”

Caitlin’s final interview was with Roy Lee Simba at his studio. She was impressed by the magnificence of the lion superstar as she had been with the lion president of Kenya. Roy Lee offered coffee which he was also drinking.

“I can only say that I had several lionesses in my old drunken days before I became an actor. When I cleaned up my act, I fell in love with a jaguar female. She is a fashion entrepreneur who owns JAGGERS. We married, had five offspring and, unfortunately, I was away promoting my career and we drifted apart. We divorced but have remained the dearest of friends. I am married to Chloe, your cousin, now. I feel that with the career focus of male lions these days, it is very difficult to maintain a pride. If you find it complicated to focus on one wife, one can only imagine what it would be like for a very busy male to pay attention to many.”

It was only when she was back in her cubicle at the Mara Daily, preparing to write the remainder of her series, did she realize that Roy Lee Simba had never mentioned having loved or loving her cousin, Chloe.