President Shane Simba was restless.  He was in a luxury hotel on the shores of the crystal-clear turquoise waters in Santa Eulària on the island of Ibiza. The reason for the lion leader’s presence was a global famine summit.  He had met with other leaders and after a cocktail party gone to his suite.  He placed a call on his cell phone.

“Betty, please join me here.  I’ll book you a flight on Kenya Airways tonight,” he begged. 

“Shane, you’ll be back in a few days, darling.  I’ll just wait for you here in the Mara,” answered Betty Chimpo who didn’t want to suffer more heartbreak if Shane felt hindered by her presence. 

“Fifi, I’m trying to put us back together and you’re fighting me tooth and nail.  Please join me here.  The place is beautiful,” he insisted. 

“Alright, darling,” she acquiesced.  “I’ll be there tomorrow morning early.”

“Okay, great.  I’ll book you on Kenya Airways.”

Ibiza

            If Marla Meerkat had been overwhelmed with jealousy at the apparent closeness of her boss, Dickey Simba and his recent bride, her spirits were lifted this particular morning.  I was conferring with Cutty and Dickey regarding a press conference that Dickey would have to take on in the absence of Shane Simba.  Even I could sense the tension between the couple.   Cutty looked stressed and Dickey appeared to be hung-over.  They were snapping at each other constantly.  I finally left but not before Marla Meerkat gave me a happy wink. 

Dickey and Cutty struggling to get a marriage going....

            Shane Simba and his guards were standing near the private gate awaiting the passengers deplaning from Kenya Airways morning Ibiza flight.  Betty Chimpo should have been the first off since the President of Kenya had booked her flight.  However, there was no Betty.  Shane was horrified as the last passenger left the plane.  As he was about to approach the desk clerk, he heard steps behind him.  There stood Betty.

“How did you leave the plane without my seeing you?” he asked, enveloping her in a hug. 

“I didn’t fly commercial. I flew here on my own plane, darling.”

“Betty, are you nuts?  You flew that crop duster of yours?”

Betty, took his hand in hers, enjoying his consternation.  “My plane is not a crop duster, Shane.”

“It’s a mosquito, Fifi.  You risked your life coming here, crossing part of Africa and the Mediterranean in that rickety little plane.”

“Nonsense, darling - they’re bringing my bags to your limousine.”

            They had a divine time.  Their oldest son, Solly, joined them from England for the last two days of the stay in Ibiza.  Shane had his personal yacht brought from the south of France and they spent sun drenched days when Shane wasn’t in meetings.  Betty joined Shane and Solly in short swims in the middle of the sea where the waters were still bright and free of pollution.  They would dine on the boat with the night sky filled with diamonds in the form of stars. 

Glorious stay in Ibiza: Shane and Betty on the boat; Shane's yacht; below both kicking back and enjoying the sea. 

 Betty and Shane swimming off of boat...

            Our long rains usually end by May, but they have continued and caused flooding in the Tana River area displacing 15,000 people who live in that area.  This has caused Lachlan and me some slight conveniences as well.  The underdeveloped road to our bush home is slick with mud and about to flood.  The mosquitoes are of a size to manage bodily harm.  This has made the renovation of our kitchen more difficult.  The labor that usually works on that project was struggling with their own flooding problems. 

flood relief in Kenya...

            Shane Simba arrived in the Mara in time to visit the flood ravaged areas of our country.  He was embarking by plane the following day to encourage villagers who had been displaced. 

“Betty, go with me, please.  There is an ape sanctuary in the region. They would love to see you at my side,” he said, pouring a drink for himself.

Betty was filled with hilarity.  She got a case of the giggles and almost choked on her cigarette smoke. 

“I don’t look like an ape anymore, darling.  Find another excuse for me to go with you,” she sputtered. 

“Okay, Fifi…just go with me.  I can’t say it will be like Ibiza but we can be together.”

She threw her arms around his neck. 

“Okay, darling, if you really want that.  We can go in my plane,” she suggested. 

“No, Fifi, please one of my small government planes, if you don’t mind.”

“You really don’t like my plane, do you?” she giggled. 

“No, I really don’t,” he answered and gave her a kiss.  "But I do love you."

            Babs, Betty’s housekeeper, ushered a guest to the back porch where Betty sat relaxing after packing for her trip with Shane tomorrow.  Dickey Simba poured a drink from Betty’s bar and sat near her. 

“How is marriage treating you, Dickey?”

“You look happy as hell, Betty,” he said, lighting a cigarette. 

“How is married life?  I asked you first.”

“I am going to make it work.  I would feel guilty if I didn’t.  Cutty is such a nice girl.”

“And such a lucky one too, Dickey – what made you propose to her?”

“You’re being sarcastic, Betty, and I deserve it.  I suppose I overreacted to you and Shane being together again.”

“Dickey, you admitted to me that you have a drug problem and you didn’t want commitment.”

“Are you and Shane for real this time?”

“I am taking our relationship one day at a time, Dickey.  I don’t know the answer to that one yet.”

the troubled Dickey visit Betty....

            I made my way gingerly to the outdoor kitchen.  The rains had also gifted us with more snakes than usual.  In Africa one takes snakes very seriously indeed.  There are almost no benign snakes on this continent short of Michelle Mamba who lives in town and gifts her neighbors with cheesecakes.  I checked on the status of Lachlan’s stew and my vine salad.  I had finally convinced the urbane and city loving Bertram Baboon to enjoy supper in our new home.  I exited the kitchen in time to see Bertram and his wife Gloria, drive up in their Bentley.  As they made their way to our front door, Bertram looked pained; his wife tentative.

“We almost got stuck on that ungodly road, Maurice.  I cannot believe you are allowing yourself to live in this manner,” complained Bertram. 

Before we got to the house, Lachlan pulled up in his truck.  He had been shopping at the supermarket for our week’s rations.  Suddenly the wild male lion, who swears his name is John, came bursting from the bush followed by his main lioness.  Bertram and Gloria drew back. 

“Good heavens, those lions are nude,” declared Bertram.  “Most immodest they are.”

Lachlan took some meat from the back of his truck and gave it to the lion and lioness.  They returned to the thicket. 

“Why are you feeding those things?” inquired Gloria, whose sister Betty has married four male lions. 

“They are wild, Gloria, and I bring them meat from the supermarket so they won’t  have to kill since it is illegal in Kenya these days,” explained Lachlan, a lion himself. 

Bertram wasn’t finished with the clothing issue. 

“I do like to see my animals fully clad these days.  It is the thing to be now,” he stated, as we made our way into the house.  “That chap was shocking in his nudity.”

me in our primitive bush kitchen.....

            Meanwhile, Betty and Shane had made their way to the stricken areas in the Tana River Delta which include Kora, the place where George and Joy Adamson had made their camp.  The animals and people flocked to see the couple who had been followed by an air convoy carrying food for those displaced by the flooding.  At Kora, which is now a reserve and has camping facilities, Betty and Shane walked about.  She sat down on a stone nearby.  Shane threw back his head and laughed. 

“Fifi, you’re sitting on Elsa’s grave,” he pointed out.   

“Right you are,” giggled Betty, checking out the name carved there. “Sit down, darling, Elsa won’t mind at all.”

Betty and Shane sitting on lioness Elsa's grave at Kora....

            That night with moonlight drifting into their tent, Betty and Shane made love.  Afterward they smoked the traditional cigarettes.

“I think I may take you up on your invitation and keep a few items of clothing in your bush house, darling," said Betty stroking his chest. 

“The invitation, Fifi, was for you to move in lock, stock and barrel, but do whatever makes you feel more comfortable,” he chuckled. 

“It makes me comfortable to be with you, Shane.  I just don’t want to push the envelope,” she whispered, caressing his ear. 

“I’m going to make you happy this time, Betty, if you’ll let me.”

“You are in the process, darling.  I just need time to make sure it’s real.”

“It’s real, Fifi.”

            In some strange way, the athletic wonder, Sean Simba, oldest son of Shane, was making a success of his marriage to his cousin Georgy Simba.  They lived in a house shared by another cousin, Troy Simba, son of Roy Lee.  There were beer parties galore but Georgy tended her small cub and enjoyed the fact that she was married to Sean whom she had loved from the start.  She would take part in the parties for several minutes, getting a squeeze on her rear by her air headed husband before returning to their cub. 

            Ashley Lyon had meant the invitation at the time but when his irritable daughter, Imani Janice Lyon, moved into his bush home, he was reminded of how unpleasant she could be in a matter of minutes.  She was chewing her ever present gum and slamming her bags around in the living room. 

“I was kicked out of my flat because you didn’t pay the rent, Dad,” she snarled. 

“I warned you, Imani, that I was finished paying the rent.  Times are tough now.  You could have paid it yourself,” said Ashley, taking a swill of his Coors Light.

“Mom cut my time in half at JAGGERS so I couldn’t meet it either.  I have some nude modeling jobs though.  They pay great money,” announced Imani, lighting a cigarette. 

Ashley coughed.  He had never been a smoker. 

“How special, Imani,” he said, going to get another beer from the fridge. 

Imani followed.  Do you have anything besides beer, Dad?  I hate that shit.”

“Look in the liquor cabinet, Imani.  You’ll see other booze there.”

Imani took a look and found a bottle of Absolut vodka.  She retrieved it and went again to where Ashley sat attempting to watch a dirt bike race on television. 

“I’m taking this to my room,” she told him.  “I hope your latest wife didn’t fuck with the décor.”

“Welcome home, Imani.  I’m sure you’ll cheer up any place you land,” said Ashley. 

Imani either didn’t catch the sarcasm or didn’t care.  She dragged one of her bags up the stairs.  Ashley gave a great sigh and refocused on the race.   

Ashley deal with the surly Imani again