JANE RETURNS
In marriage there are no manners to keep up, and beneath the wildest accusations no real criticism. Each is familiar with that ancient child in the other who may erupt again.... We are not ridiculous to ourselves. We are ageless. That is the luxury of the wedding ring.
Enid Bagnold, Autobiography, 1969
Shane Simba waited restlessly for the information that Jane had returned safely from Afghanistan. He was at a loss to get the information without tipping anyone off as Jane was so adamant in not doing. Finally, at his wit’s end, he asked his secretary to place a call to Bob Bushbuck and tell him his office had a story for Jane as soon as she returned. The secretary made the call and announced that Jane would be returning from Kabul on the midnight Kenya Airways’ flight from Cairo. He breathed a sigh of relief and sat for a while at his desk before going home for the evening.
Luke Leoparde was at the airport in Nairobi waiting for Jane’s arrival. When he spotted her at the baggage carousel, he, too, registered relief that she had made it safely. They hugged each other both realizing that their friendship was growing into one of the best proportions. They flew in his light plane to the Masai Mara arriving at a very late hour.
“Let me make you some breakfast for that lift,” said Jane, taking his paw in hers as they walked across the tarmac from the hangar at the Leoparde-Lyon Safari Club.
“No, we’ll have it at my bungalow. I hired a very competent and charming houseboy. He makes a breakfast fit for royalty.”
“You’ve convinced me.”
“Do you still love me, Shane?” asked a frantic Betty worn down from his weeks of arctic behavior.
They were in their room. He, sitting on the bed and putting on his shoes while she smoked a cigarette with coffee cup in hand.
“I don’t honestly know, Betty. I haven’t taken my emotional temperature recently. I’m afraid if I still do it is on the tepid side.”
Her heart fell to her feet in a speed that rendered her so faint she staggered slightly.
“I continued to love you in spite of your affairs with Dina and Caroline Cheetah. Why can’t you do the same for me? I am all over Solly these days – lavishing him with affection.”
He stood up, towering over her.
“You’re so simplistic in many ways, Betty. You wanted to have my cub. I went against my better judgment and submitted my DNA. We had him and now the thrill is over for you. You are a career animal above all else. Did you think with the safety net of having a child by me you could do what you wanted and I would be complacent? You know the things I hate most are parents who ignore their children. I am phobic on that subject. Looking back on it, I wonder if Sam had the right idea in taking Josh and Jason from you for a time.”
“That’s unforgivable of you to say to me, Shane. I helped soothe your other children after Catherine’s death,” she protested, shaking in every limb.
“All probably for the purpose of reeling me in.”
He knew this was a cruel thing to say to her but unfortunately he meant it. He left the room, taking the elevator to where the Masai guards awaited. They walked the distance to the State House.
He went to his office, greeting his secretaries and me. He sat drinking coffee and smoking a cigarette at his desk. The door opened. Jane was standing there with his secretary.
“Mr. President, I got word that you had a story for me. Mr. Bushbuck sent me.”
“Yes, I do.”
The secretary left, closing the door behind her. He wanted to go to Jane but she held up a warning paw. They looked at each other, the length and breadth of the office seeming unable to contain their uncloaked need for each other. He invited her in formal correctness to sit down. She did asking permission to light a cigarette which he gladly gave her, lighting one of his own.
“Shane, the generals in Afghanistan would love a visit from you.”
“Why Janie?”
“Bush is a lame duck idiot and Tony Blair is disarmed due to his leaving office this year. They are lacking a leader of substance to confer with them.”
“In reality it would be a mere show of sympathy. Kenya can do nothing to solve the problem.”
“Kenya has a diplomat in the UN. That is all it takes, Shane. It would be a gesture that would say that Kenya has become a nation that is involved with world affairs.”
“You have become the architect of my presidency, Janie,” he smiled.
“You are the leader, President Simba. My only role is in keeping my ear to the ground for you. What is the story you have for me?”
“I had my secretary lie to Bob. I have no story. I just had to see you safe and in the flesh.”
“I am safe and with the last of the articles about Afghanistan, I will get back to writing your biography - probably next week.”
She stood to go. He rose and stood behind his desk.
“Do you have any idea of my feelings for you – how much I love you?” he asked, his voice catching.
“If they are half as intense as mine for you, they are very formidable, Mr. President.”
Jane lay on the table as Dr. Sylly Cougar Lyon ran the sonogram over her abdomen.
“There are two cubs in there, Jane,” she stated.
Dick Simba decided to check out the leopardess hooker that frequented the Watering Hole Pub. He sidled over and introduced himself. Banging a hooker would certainly relieve the messy situations arising from liaisons with career females such as Cameron Caracal who seemed to want to latch on and make permanent arrangements. The leopardess was vivacious and pretty with the clear emerald eyes associated with her species. Dick bought her a martini and they cuddled and canoodled at the bar.
“Beautiful dress,” he commented into the sleek fur of her neck.
“I bought it at Harrods,” she said, giving him a lingering kiss.
He didn’t want to take a chippie to his abode in case she should become larcenous and steal some of the objects he prized highly.
“Where do you live?” he asked, as he stuck a paw in her blouse and caressed a small but perfect bosom.
“In a tree in the savanna.”
“You live in a tree?” he gasped.
“Of course, leopards have always lived in trees,” she sighed, grabbing his crotch.
“You shop for your clothes at Harrods and live in a freaking tree? How incongruence.”
“I practice economy,” she stated with pride.
He quickly weighed his options because he had a noticeable boner and was anxious to get laid. He opted for his townhouse rather than risk sex on a precarious tree limb in the bush. He would have to make sure she was in view at all times and get her out after the act was completed.
Betty hastily packed three bags which the servants took to her official car. She had completed her book and had the manuscript in her brief case. Shane was in Nairobi addressing parliament. She hastened the nanny who carried Solly. They all entered the car and drove to the airport where Simba Two sat on the tarmac. Betty, the nanny with Solly and two Masai guards boarded the plane.
Betty's official Bentley
When Simba Two was in the air and on its course to New York, Betty had the steward bring her a Scotch and lit a cigarette. Solly played on the floor of the customized Boeing 737. Her husband knew nothing of this trip. She had brought their son because she wanted no talk of neglect from Shane. Other reasons for bringing Solly was the fact that he was simply adorable and she loved him. She settled back and watched her son play at her feet.
The presidential helicopter landed on the grounds of the State House, discharging the President and his party. He walked to the mansion since the hour was late of an afternoon. As he got off the elevator he put out his usual call of “Where’s Solly?”
“Mrs. Simba went to New York to see her publisher. She took Solly with her, Mr. President,” stated a nervous houseboy who couldn’t imagine that husband and wife hadn’t shared this bit of information before the fact.
“What the hell?” asked a shocked Shane. “Did she take a commercial flight?”
“No, Sir, she took Simba Two.”
Shane’s face darkened with anger. It was a rule that when it was personal business the couple flew commercial on Kenya Airways, having a partial first class section enclosed for them. Shane was adamant about not costing the government the price of operating Simba Two with a private flight. He went to the family room where a fire crackled and Staci sat watching the evening news on television. The houseboy put a tray with his Scotch and a glass before him. He gave his daughter a hug and lit a cigarette.
“Did you know Betty was going to New York, Staci?”
“No, Daddy, I’ve been in classes all day.”
The following day, Staci played in the Kenya Tennis Finals. It was a big event and many watched as the President’s lovely daughter beat out three opponents to win the trophy. Shane was in the bleachers and caught a quick glimpse of Jane standing with Luke Leoparde and Caitlin Cougar.
Staci Simba at the tennis finals....
Jane stood before the mirror in her bedroom and took a long look. Her mother had been right in her assertion that the females in Jane’s pride didn’t ‘get all heavy’ with pregnancy. She was still as slim as a sylph and could button her slacks and skirts with ease. Sylly Cougar Lyon had pronounced her built for bearing offspring. She had no further morning sickness and was filled with energy.
Jane drove her car to the Simba pride territory. Shane and the Masai were already there when she pulled on to the land. He was standing under the fever tree, his guards several yards away. She went to him. He held her tightly against him, kissing her neck, eyelids and lips, oblivious to the guards who took no particular note.
“Betty is in New York; can I bring the gardener’s truck and see you tonight?”
“No, that’s too risky. I’ve made contact with the generals and they want you to come to Afghanistan whenever you will.”
He looked at her long and hard, his light eyes filled with emotion.
“Make the arrangements, Janie. I don’t want it to be a publicly known junket. I will make it known when I get there. We’ll have to take Simba One, a very expensive plane to operate. My wife so thoughtfully commandeered the smaller plane.”
“I can set it up for day after tomorrow if you are willing.”
“Do it, Janie.”
Betty sat relaxing in her suite at the Waldorf. She had visited her publisher for the last two days. Solly was cuddled next to her on the damask sofa. She had placed no calls to her husband nor had he tried to contact her. The publisher had told her that her book on Rhonda Rhino could go either way. Either the reading public would take to it or it could sink beneath the surface without a ripple.
“She’s not an internationally known entity like Montecore, the Simbas or Ralph Lyon,” she had said. “We will put it on the market, packaged attractively and see how it floats.”
"But you published a book that Charlotte Elephanti wrote and she wasn't known either. It was a best seller," protested Betty.
"The story of an elephant who lives connubially with a human white hunter, falls on him and kills him, having him leave everything to her in his will, is quite a story, Betts. The story of a rhinoceros whose relatives have been killed by poachers for their horns is an old story, told many times in print. I am hoping you will have a best seller. You are certainly known for your story telling skills not to mention being the wife of the President of Kenya."
Betty decided to stay an extra couple of days. She was to be joined by her sister, Gloria, this very night. She had taken Solly to the toy store, F.A.O. Schwarz, that day and let him choose some toys. He had chosen two very large stuffed and realistic male lions with joyous cries of "Dada...Dada". She had bought them both. They took up much space in the living room of the suite where he toddled around them, pressing his small face against them in turn.
the array at the toy store.....
When Gloria arrived that evening, Betty kissed Solly goodnight and the two sisters dined in style at one of Manhattan’s trendy new restaurants. Betty seemed down but a few drinks cheered her.
“It seems that Shane and I are leading separate lives now in the same home,” she sadly told her sister and confidante.
“I wish you would nip that situation in the bud before it becomes habitual, Betty.”
“If only I could.”
Dr. Carey Caracal Simba happily potted geraniums and freesias alongside her husband, Sidney, at the Simba Garden Center. Now that she was drug free and happily ensconced as a psychiatrist in the Mental Health Center’s AIDS and HIV wing, she found that she was beginning to share her husband’s love of growing things.
“You are looking so wonderful these days, Cary,” said Sidney placing a quick kiss on her forehead. “I love you.”
“And I, you, Sid, I think we are going to make it after all,” she smiled.
“That’s a given, Sweetheart,” he agreed, handing her some liquid fertilizer.
Cary and her husband, Sidney, find contentment at the garden center.....
Simba One took off and headed north and then east. Shane, his Masai, the crew and Jane were the only ones aboard the huge Boeing 747. This time Jane sat next to Shane and they drank whiskey and went over notes for the trip to Kabul – their destination.