Maurice & Friends

Betty Chimpo left her office on the Kenya University campus in the Mara and headed for her first class teaching Creative Writing. Her material would be good. She was sure of that for she had prepared meticulously using several available forums. She had even spent her lonely few days in New York preparing for her coming classes. The class room was newly constructed and built in the latest style. The professor would stand on a dais with the students in something akin to theater seats. All of the latest technology was accessible for the presentation of lectures. Her students began to arrive. She realized that her first class was comprised of as many humans as animals. She swallowed her nervousness and began.

Professor Betty Chimpo during her first class lecture at Kenya University......

The first day back at the State House was hectic. Crime was on the rise in Nairobi, which was an issue to be tackled. Shane and his justice minister, Dickey Simba, were holed up in Shane’s office all day attempting to tackle that one. I was in and out. As Shane’s Chief of Staff, I had to pile through my own workload after the holiday break.

Four days later, Kenya University Chancellor, Terry Simba, summoned Betty to his office. She smoked two cigarettes in nervousness before entering his inner sanctum. He stood to greet her, his manner warm.

“Betty, I asked you here to tell you that the feedback from your students regarding your writing courses is simply outstanding. Several have cited it as being exciting and innovative. They are all, without exception, extremely enthusiastic. Keep up the good work, Professor Chimpo.”

Betty closed her office door and locked it. She couldn’t wait to tell Wilda Wildebeest, who was returned from her various holiday bouts with her herd.

“President Simba, I think you may want to deal with this request to see you…uh, it seems rather personal, Sir,” suggested Shane’s secretary.

Shane looked at the notation for a few moments and then instructed, “Make an appointment for Miss Sandcat, please - might as well nip this in the bud if possible.”

Shane receives word of Sandi's request for an audience.......

Leah Lyon was excited. She and Jack Tarzan had agreed that he would spend several nights a week in her Leoparde Drive home. Jack’s sister had moved into his home and was overseeing the very old Patsy. Leah and her housekeeper cleared space for Jack’s clothes in one of Leah’s closets and cleared a cabinet and shelf for his toiletries. The good thing about Jack was that he got along so beautifully with offspring that were not his own. Leah’s cubs that still remained in her home, adored Jack. Imani, Kitty and Brad had their own apartments but Sim and Adam Lyon remained with Leah, though growing like weeds. All of the Lyon offspring, including the prickly Imani, liked Jack. In absolute secret, Leah had gone, against the advice of her doctors, and had a reversal of the tubal ligation she had undergone after the birth of her twins, Sim and Adam. Leah Simba was very seriously in love with Jack Tarzan and wanted nothing more than to make him happy.

Leah Simba is thrilled to have some of Jack's things in her home...

Simone Serval was determined to begin 2008 with a significant film role. She was tired of Roy Lee Simba and Bertram Baboon jerking her around and failing to give her meaty roles. This was to be her year. She wasn’t getting any younger and needed to make hay while the sun shone. Another goal was to lead Dickey Simba into the matrimonial salt flats. She had not felt this way about a male since Ashley Lyon, Sam and Shane Simba had skittered briefly through her life and that had been quite a while ago. Simone would take the bull by the horns and examine film scripts in an effort to find one that would nail her fame to the wall.

apartment complex that houses Dickey Simba and Lion Lion...........

Lion Lion turned on a lamp in his apartment. He was hosting Betty Chimpo. They had gone out to dinner and engaged in a pleasant evening. Betty had begged off going to Lion’s unique apartment until he had promised her that there would no awkward hitting on her or untidy sexual attempts. He did manage to elicit a kiss but nothing more. Betty had to admit that the lion architect’s flat was nothing short of exquisite. Over a vintage cognac, he told Betty of growing up in the Gir Forest of India where he became friends with the Tigeres family. He had many interesting samples of Hindu statuary throughout his three bedroom penthouse overlooking the savanna. Once more Lion kissed her as he handed her a second cognac in a crystal snifter. She had to admit to herself that she was horny – however this was a new year and a new lifestyle for Professor Betty Chimpo and she would not succumb to trivial fucking. She found Lion attractive enough but he failed to bring her off the pedestal she had established for herself.

“He’s at it again,” sniffed Lion.

“Who’s at it again?” asked a puzzled Betty. This statement had come out of the blue.

“Don’t you small that hashish?”

“I guess so but I’ve never been a user so am not all that familiar with the smell,” she explained, lighting a cigarette.

“It’s that new justice minister. He lives next door and smokes hash all the time. It is so offensive and by the way, if you don’t mind, I don’t allow cigarette smoking in my home,” he said, gently removing Betty’s cigarette from her fingers and taking it to the kitchen. .

Lion returned, having put out the offending cigarette in his sink and placing it in the trash.

“Does Dickey Simba live in this building?”

“Yes and he is one strange dude. All closed drapes and jazz music, not to mention the offending hash smell, coming from his place. His balcony is opposite mine. I think he has a good bit of female company from the sound of the voices.”

Betty felt her heart constrict a bit. Stop that you idiot. You are into a new whole new lifestyle now, she cautioned herself. She heard the soft sound of a very sensual saxophone piece wafting from the direction of Dickey’s balcony.

Sandi Sandcat....

Sandi Sandcat was ever so sorry she had taken her Aunt Thelma’s advice. Here she was in Shane Simba’s office and there he was with those peculiar green eyes of his, giving her willies.

“What brings you here, Miss Sandcat?” he asked with all the warmth of Mt. Everest in blizzard mode.

She summoned her courage, “I am pregnant with Sean’s litter. I think he should marry me or I will hit him for a lot of support money. It will be all over the newspapers.”

Shane Simba leaned back slightly, his desk chair making a menacing creak. Oh shit, thought Sandi.

“Miss Sandcat, you are a very small feline. My son is half lion and half cheetah. He looks like a full blooded lion and has the size to match. What is going to make headlines is when you die in childbirth from having a litter that is far too large for your small body to accommodate. I am going to give you some money for an abortion and if you’re smart, you’ll take the cash and go straight to the clinic.”

Sandi’s tiny jaw gaped. She had never seen such unadulterated audacity in her born days. Aunt Thelma, you fucked up, she thought.

Shane reached in his desk drawer and withdrew some bills. He gave them to Sandi.

“Good luck, Miss Sandcat,” he said, standing.

She had been dismissed. He opened the door for her to leave. She looked neither right nor left as she exited the executive suite.

Sean Simba, having played his last soccer game for the season and scoring heavily, rested on his laurels. Junior Lyon would start the training sessions for the new Kenya Lions professional football team in February. His cell phone rang.

“Sean, your dad just paid me off to have an abortion,” snapped Sandi Sandcat.

“What?”

Sean was astounded. Although Troy Simba had told him the news of her pregnancy, Sandi had never mentioned a word of it to Sean. He had begun to think he was home free on this one. Now he almost too horrified to speak.

“I went to his office and he saw me,” she continued through Sean’s shocked silence.

“My God,” was all Sean could manage.

Simone, after a relaxing evening of hash smoking and sex with Dickey Simba, made her way to Baboon-Simba Studios the following morning. She demanded a conference with Roy Lee Simba, Gloria Chimpo Baboon and Bertram Baboon. Being an important component of the film studio’s acting crew, they sat around the conference table with her. After listening to Simone’s request for a meaningful film role, Gloria spoke first.

“Why don’t I write a script for you, Simone? It will be geared expressly as an acting vehicle for you,” suggested the writer.

“How soon can you have it ready, Gloria?” asked the impatient serval actress.

“A few weeks at the most, I have been working on a script that I can tailor for you.”

“Good deal,” said Simone.

Betty, in her determination to make her two classes more and more absorbing for her students, decided to use a few guest lecturers of the author persuasion. She had not really spoken to Jack Tarzan since their divorce but she made the call anyway. She asked him, as an author of note and a journalist, to lecture in her morning creative writing class. Jack, being a wonderful animal and still feeling he owed much to his ex-wife, agreed to do so.

Dickey Simba.....

Dickey Simba had been plagued with mood swings his entire life. He was prone to a certain amount of depression of an ongoing nature. This was one of those evenings. He left his office in the State House and phoned Betty Chimpo.

“How about dinner at Simba’s Bistro?” he invited.

“I’d like that,” she agreed.

Sean Simba didn’t know which way to turn. Sandi Sandcat had gone over his head and spoken with his father. Now, who knew what Shane Simba’s mood was toward his errant son.

Members of two powerful lion prides stood around the altar in the First Church of the Ascending Predator. The occasion was the baptismal of Ashley and Staci Simba Lyon’s twins. The church was beautifully decorated for the momentous occasion; the Reverend Saul Serval and his assistant were dressed in their most impressive robes. The media milled about the parameters of the church being kept at a safe distance by the Masai Mara police. The good Reverend stepped forward and sprinkled holy water on the small heads of Catherine Mildred Lyon and her brother, Shane Adamson Lyon. Ralph Lyon had asked not to have his name foisted on the male - one of his many grandcubs.

“I picked that name out of a hat when lions were becoming civilized. It means absolutely nothing,” he had stated.

After the ceremony a huge reception was held on the grounds of the Lyon pride compound. The weather blessed the occasion. We were coming out of our rainy season. The sun was warm, the sky a clear blue.