Maurice & Friends

It started with small and very appealing pictures sent by Caroline Cheetah to the father of her son, Shane Simba. The photographs showed an adorable lion cub in varying poses. They would come by mail to the house on Leoparde Drive. It culminated with a lawsuit asking for child support. Dorian and Cynthia Cheetah, who had endured much, were humiliated that their daughter would impose this and make a further spectacle of herself. Betty would open the mail from Caroline for Shane to see. He wanted no part of it but Betty saw the pictures of the adorable cub and longed to hold him. She saved them in her desk drawer. Not wanting a dirty court case, Shane settled an amount that was satisfactory to Caroline and her attorney, Judge Bo Bonobo. The pictures continued.

little Shane Simba, Jr.

Glenda Gorilla wrote a cover story for Animal Enquirer that stated the age difference between Betty Chimpo Simba and her husband, Shane. It bore the annoying title: The May-December marriage of Betty and Shane Simba: Is she old enough to be his mother? Celia Chimpo, being Betty’s first cousin and Glenda’s replacement on Entertainment World at WMM-TV, tried to go easy on her. She had always admired Betty although she never been close to her. Celia was close to Gloria, Betty’s sister. The next big thing that came to light and hit the other scandal rag was the fact that Betty had a sister who was a maid at CHANGING SPOTS and lived with the janitor, an orangutan. Sue Chimpo was also a drunk. Celia refused to air it. Another disgraceful publication dug up the fact that Tookie Simba had been a hooker in the Serengeti but was now married to a human seaman. An additional fact on Shane’s sister was that she was pregnant with a human fetus engineered during the French procedure at the Exotic Animal Clinic in the Mara. Tookie had finally wanted to experience motherhood. She and Captain Dick, her husband, had tossed a coin to decide whether it would be human or lion. Tookie’s flip came up tails. When Sarah Lee Simba read this (she was a devoted reader of the scandal rags) she had to go to bed. Leander, tired of her sister’s vapors, stayed in her own house. Leander, the mother of Steven, Alexander, Sidney and Sloane had her own set of problems.

Celia Chimpo hosts her Entertain World program at WMM-TV...

Steven Simba had to resort to a doctor, having injured both ham strings in the aerobic classes. Dr. Ted Tigeres prescribed massages, Jacuzzis and the steam rooms at RUNNERS. He fell into the able hooves of Gerald Giraffe.

“Isn’t there a female here that does these things?” asked a disconcerted and nervous Steven.

Gerald had been his trainer but working with weights and barbells was one thing. Massages, steam rooms and Jacuzzi treatments were quite another at the mercy of a gay male. At least those were the thoughts of the macho Steven.

“No, big boy, they are all tied up. You can go to Paulette Poodle’s Beau Visage. She has massages and a steam room but they’re all for cosmetic reasons,” huffed Gerald.

“You’re not going to try anything are you?” inquired Steven with no tact whatsoever.

“You mean like stick a hoof up your ass?”

“I don’t know. Whatever you guys do.”

“Look, big boy, your kind killed my kind for years in the bush. I wouldn’t play with your dick if you paid me to,” shouted Gerald, causing heads to turn in the gym.

Steven took note of the attention and spoke in hushed tones. “Okay, okay, no point in getting your knickers in a twist, Gerald, I just inquired is all.”

“I ought to refuse to work with you and let you walk around on those sticks for life you bloody prick,” accosted Gerald who was in quite the lather.

“No offense, Gerald.”

“Fuck you!”

Gerald Giraffe takes offense at the abrubt Steven Simba....

“It was the zenith of bad taste to insult Gerald Giraffe,” hissed Cameron Caracal.

Steven had finally convinced her to join him for cocktails in his condo just down from hers in the Salt Lick group. They were sitting in his walled garden having drinks. Steven was quite let down that the conversation, which had begun pleasantly enough, had morphed into a discussion of his scene with the part owner and main trainer at RUNNERS.

“I would prefer to have a female message me and escort me to steam rooms and Jacuzzis,” he said rather lamely.

He knew damn well this excuse was going to be ridiculed by the barbed Cameron. He was right. She lit a cigarette and almost spit the smoke out.

“I’m sure you would. Gerald has become one of my dearest friends since I’ve been leading the aerobics class. He is a wonderful animal. Sometimes I join him at Montecore’s Disco with his friends.”

“That’s a gay disco,” yelped Steven, who was digging a deeper hole for himself.

“I sense a deeply homophobic character in you, Steven. I detest homophobia. You should be more like our lion president who made homosexuality legal in Kenya and allows gay marriages. It used to be illegal here.”

“I don’t mind lesbians,” stated Steven in what he considered a good thought to toss in the ring. She would probably like that. Wrong again.

“Males who are partial to threesomes simply adore lesbians,” she snarled.

He stood up and put his drink on the table.

“Cameron, you are obviously never going to warm to me. I might as well end this attempt at a relationship with you. It is clearly fatally flawed.”

“Steven, if you wouldn’t be such a damn bloody bloke and downright prick, one could deal with you,” she said, remaining seated.

“I don’t know how to change your mind about me. Everything I do and say obviously disturbs you.”

She stood up, putting out her cigarette, and came to him. She put her slight arms about his waist.

“It’s mostly what you say but seldom what you do,” she purred reaching to kiss his lips.

He removed her arms.

“I want you to like me, Cameron. I know you have good sex with me but I want us to be compatible in more than this. I’ve never felt this way about a female before you. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He seemed disconcerted and she felt compassion mixed with the powerful attraction she had always had for him.

“Steve, let’s make a pact to find out the real ‘us’ underneath our bothersome exteriors. I know I’m no day in the park either. Will that work for you?”

“We can do this, Cameron.”

She picked up her sweater and moved to go.

“Are you leaving so soon?”

“Yes, I have an early court case. Why don’t I make you another meal at my place this weekend?”

“I’ll bring steaks, would you like that?”

“Yes, that will be perfect,” she agreed, standing on tip toes to fully kiss him.

I had a lot on my mind. I was having difficulty adjusting to the idea of Ralph Lyon’s retirement from the presidency of Kenya. He sensed my sadness when we had our ritual late afternoon drink in his office before closing our work day.

“Maury, you haven’t been yourself since I announced my intentions to retire. Is there anything bothering you about it?” he asked in a most kindly manner that unfortunately caused me to weep.

I mopped my eyes with a hankie, blew my nose loudly and attempted to pull myself together.

“Yes, Ralph, there is a problem. I can’t stand the thought of you not being the president anymore. I like Shane Simba but he won’t be you. Can’t you just remain president? Shane does all your traveling for you anyhow,” I blubbered unashamedly.

“Maury, my dear friend, I will have an office here. You will be helping me as well as Shane but I long to give up the day to day worries and duties of running the country. I want to live with my pride again and pay attention to my children and grandchildren and the wives I’ve ignored for so long. Millie is in complete agreement with this. Lewis has started building a wonderful home for us in the center of the compound where I will be in touch with my family every day. I want to play golf with Mildred, Berns and Sylvia. Haven’t you thought of retiring?”

“No, quite frankly, I don’t want to retire until Lachlan does. We plan a future together when we put down our workloads. I know I am being selfish not wanting you to retire, Ralph. You deserve every golden minute of it. You have been a remarkable leader and I know Shane will be.”

“Maury, Lachlan is much younger than you. Don’t you want retirement before him?”

“No, I am not tired of working. I don’t carry the load you do of running an entire country. I have much on my plate with this job, my art and the arts center. I couldn’t bear not coming here everyday.”

“Maury, you have been my right arm. You are the best friend any animal ever had. I have been so blessed.”

I began to cry loudly at this statement. Mildred Lyon joined us. When Ralph told her the reason for my weeps, she sat and patted my shoulder saying additional things to soothe me. We ended up on the lawn of the State House with our drinks, watching the blood red sun sink beyond the savanna.

“Betty, what are you looking at?” asked Shane, who had just come home from a day of working out campaign details.

Betty quickly put the photographs behind her. She had been surprised at her desk looking over the latest photographs of Shane, Jr. sent by his mother, Caroline. Shane walked to her and pulled her arm from behind her back. He looked at the display of photographs of his illegitimate cub.

“Why are you saving these, Betty? They should be thrown away or sent back to the mother.”

His pale green eyes were clouded with a mounting temper.

“He is so adorable, Shane. I just like to look at him.”

“Betty, don’t go gaga over that child. You have my son, Sean and my daughter, Staci to lavish love upon. You don’t need the problematical child of Caroline Cheetah with her wiles.”

“Don’t you have any interest in seeing him in the flesh, Shane?”

“None whatsoever,” was his clipped response.

The children chattered away at the dinner table about their day. Betty and Shane were silent except for their responses to the cub’s questions and discussion. School was officially out for the Kenyan equatorial summer. Their days were filled with light hearted fun.

Betty went to their room first and began to undress for bed. She had a book she intended reading. Shane joined her there. He removed his tie.

“Betty, what would you have me do about that cub of Caroline’s?”

“I think you should see him, Shane.”

“If I see him, it will involve her in our lives. This I do not want and cannot afford to do, especially running for the presidency. It won’t work, Fifi.”

“He is so precious. I just long to hold him in my arms.”

“Betty, damn it, do you want to find some damn lioness from my pride and let her be a surrogate mother to my cub? Will that resolve your idiotic longing to have one of my kids? Mind you, it will be no part of you whatsoever. Our mixing is not physically possible. But if this will ease your agonized maternity, I will damn well do it.”

“No, it is okay, Shane. I know I’m being foolish.”

“I know Sean is getting too big for you to hold but he can jump in your lap and make pretence of being an infant. Despite his growth, he can still mewl and whine. He carries the same genes as Caroline’s kid. And by the way, that little lion cub could end up looking like a full blown cheetah and then where would you be if you had him? I know you would love one that looked just like Caroline Cheetah. And do keep this in mind; your sons by Sam are from the exact same gene pool as mine.”

She began to giggle. She came toward him and unbuttoned his shirt.

“You are so wonderful to put up with my stupidity about you. It’s just that I so adore you I want to share in every minute detail of you. I feel like Prince Charles felt about Camilla Parker Bowles when he wanted to be reincarnated as a tampon, residing in her trousers.”

“Jesus, Betty!” he roared. “I wonder if he still wants to be in her knickers now that they’re actually married. You could do some research on that, Fifi. You might come up with something.”

She began laughing. He joined her. They fell in a fit of hilarity on to the bed. Their mood turned quickly to one of an amorous nature.

President Ralph Lyon, unknowingly put a kink in Shane and Betty’s planned trip to London. He declared there would only be two more weeks of campaigning before the presidential elections. Since Kenya is an arid country with its population mostly centered in the capital of Nairobi, there is not that much to be stumped in an effort to gain votes. Ralph was attempting to move political elections into the mold of those in America. He wanted Shane Simba, who all the polls said would win, to be inaugurated in January. Betty and Shane would only have three days to see Arlon off to his school in London. Shane and Betty rented a state of the art bus and set out for a repeat of their campaign trail. The bus had a bath and master bedroom and was quite comfortable. The press corps followed in another. The matter of Shane’s new son was forgotten in the hectic atmosphere. Babs and Miss B would quickly destroy any mail that arrived from Caroline Cheetah.

Some days they arrived in the same villages and small towns as Shane’s human opponents. This was not a disadvantage for the lion candidate and his wife. The citizens, being uninterested in another human who would most likely throw the country back into poverty and disrepair, flocked to where Betty and Shane held their ground. The signs about the towns visited hailed in bold letters: Welcome to Rais Simba. The Masai warrior guards would flank Betty and Shane as they walked about. But they still managed to express great warmth and interest in the people and animals of the area. Shaking hands and sampling the local delicacies, they would warm the hearts of all. Once again, Shane developed laryngitis and had to be helped by Betty who read his speeches to the throngs.

“I’ve never heard of a lion getting hoarse, Shane. Are you sure you don’t need a doctor, darling?” she asked one night as they lay in their bed in the bus.

“That’s because lions didn’t make speeches and stump for the presidency,” he laughed. “Civilization doesn’t become us, Fifi.”