Maurice & Friends

Shane and Betty made their way throughout Kenya, employing both train and light aircraft. They savored the various cultural entertainment and foods of the multicultural people of Kenya. They were hailed wherever they went, people reaching their hands out in greeting to their new president and his wife. Shane would meet with the various local leaders and discuss their ongoing problems whether they be AIDS, cattle, or drought and failing crops. Betty gave an ear to the women and their problems. Bit by bit, the couple regained the intimacy and closeness that had been lost with Shane’s affection for Dina Myers. At night they would return to their luxurious quarters on the presidential train, discussing the day’s events before making love as they once had.

Sean Simba was going through a difficult stage. Deprived of the intense attention his father had paid him at the death of his mother, Sean became a wiseacre, smarting off to those around the State House, especially the Masai who were assigned to drive and guard him. Shane, with his plate filled with presidential responsibilities, had only the dinner hour to focus his attention on his children. Betty was also kept busy with her duties as the president’s consort. Sean would pile into the offices, acting the proper smart ass to all present including myself. The Masai would take him to his soccer practice at the school grounds. He was to be on the team the coming school term. Only his father and sister could put him in his place and they were leading full lives with little time to do so. One problem facing Staci Simba was the fact that she had the cheetah form whereas Sean looked like a full lion with all the strength that entails. Where she had once been able to knock him on his ass, she was hard put to do so these days. Those most engaged with the bumptious son of the president were his first cousin, Leah, and her husband, Ashley Lyon. Leah and Ashley made a point to include him in theirs and their children’s lives.

Sean Simba, the son of the president.....

Without a ripple, Caroline Cheetah was sharing her son, Shane Junior, less and less with his father and stepmother. She had found a focus in Sloane Simba whose cub, Georgy, was a big part of his life. Caroline no longer fretted about Shane. In not doing so, she no longer cared to taunt him with the presence of their illegitimate son, born of a quick seduction on the train. Shane barely noticed, so preoccupied was he with the ramifications of his intensely complex life.

The presidential train returned to the Mara and two days later, Staci Simba took her father aside. Shane’s baboon secretary, Donna, came to his office door and announced that his daughter wanted an audience with him. She led the pretty cub in the room. Staci seated herself.

“Good to see you, Staci. What did you need to say to me that couldn’t wait for the dinner table?” he laughed.

“It’s about Sean, Daddy; he’s becoming a real prick. He’s giving his Masai trouble as well as everyone else. You need to pay more attention to him. You don’t pay attention to us much anymore and frankly I don’t care but Sean does,” she announce, adjusting her skirts primly.

“You don’t care, Staci?”

“No, I don’t,” she said with a disproving expression in her dark eyes so like Catherine’s.

“Well guess what? I care that you don’t care. I would like to hear more on this topic,” said Shane, lighting a cigarette.

“I don’t think you are the way I thought you were, Daddy -----is all.”

“I think you owe me an explanation for that statement, Staci.”

“Well, I used to cry all the time when Mummy kicked you out of the house. I always wanted her to bring you home and she did. Now I see what you do. I just hope Betty won’t leave you. But if she does, I will go with her.”

Shane was riveted in his chair and filled with horror. This was his daughter whom he loved more than anyone else on earth and she was issuing him ultimatums.

“What am I supposed to be doing, Staci? I would really like to know.”

“Playing tennis with that dip shit Dina.”

“I also play with you and Lewis Lyon, Staci. I like strong tennis partners.”

“But you don’t want to have sex with Lewis and me, Daddy.”

“Staci, good God,” he roared. “You have forgotten who you are speaking with. I’m your dad.”

“Now, back to Sean,” she said without missing a beat. So like Catherine, he thought.

“I will speak to him, Staci. We will go on the boat again this weekend. I want you and Sean to go with us.”

“I have plans, Daddy.”

“You will be on that damn boat, Staci. That’s an order.”

“All right, Mr. President,” she snarled, flouncing out of the room with something that could only be described as ‘attitude’.

“Fuck!,” moaned Shane to the slammed door.

Catherine began to invade his nights again. He would dream he was having sex with Dina who would then morph into Catherine. He would slip from the bed, taking care not to wake the insomniac Betty who had just managed sleep. He would go outside in his robe, sit on the terrace and listen to the comforting chants of the Masai as they began their day in the predawn hours. Their strong voices, harmonizing with their traditional songs, brought peace to his troubled soul. He would still be sitting there, smoking, when the sun’s first rays would steal into the sky.

Chief Bubba Simba was not happy with the presence of his half-brother, Sidney Simba, in the trailer behind Leander’s bungalow. Bubba lived a mile away on the Simba turf with his four lionesses. He knew there were drugs in play. He sought the help of his chief deputy, Carson Cougar.

“Carson, we have to go after that freaking leopard who sells those drugs - any ideas?”

“I almost ran him down one night, Bubba. He lives in a tree.”

“Those damn leopards are hell to get. They do all their dirty business in trees. They’re climbing fools.”

Carson smiled to himself. Bubba had evidently forgotten that Carson’s beloved mom was a leopard.

“I think I remember the tree, Bubba. Do you want to go out there? He does most of his selling at night. He’ll probably be home during the day.”

Carson and Bubba took a police cruiser with no sirens blaring. Stealth was their game. When they got within walking distance of the tree that Carson had identified, they got out of the car. Carson spotted a leopard sleeping on a high limb. Before Carson could make a move, Bubba was climbing the trunk. The tree had a slanted shaft which didn’t really present a major problem for the lion police chief. It was when Bubba reached the limb just below and tried to walk it that he fell to the ground on his ass and roared in pain. Carson went to his fallen boss.

“Are you hurt badly?”

Shit yeah, I done broke something... I think it’s my shoulder,” moaned Bubba.

Carson called for an ambulance. Meanwhile the leopard was awake, having been robbed of his sleep by the roaring of a lion just below. The leopard stared down in amusement at the hapless police chief in pain. The ambulance came, the attendants checking Bubba and giving him a pain shot right away.

“You should have let me do the climbing, Chief, after all I’m half leopard,” grinned Carson.

Bubba, being eased on morphine, laughed and said,” Shit; I done forgot that, Carson.”

The bow of the sleek presidential yacht cut the waters of the Indian Ocean as it made its way toward the island of Madagascar where it would moor. A mixed bag of emotions accompanied the cruisers. There was Shane Simba, anxious to address his son and get a modicum of control in his children’s lives again. There was his son, less than anxious to hear what his obviously pissed dad had to say to him. There was Staci who had missed a great party due to her dad’s orders that she come. There were Betty’s two sons, Jason and Joshua, whose weekend it had been to visit their mom. Then there was Betty, who welcomed any opportunity to get her husband to herself. It didn’t take Shane too long to isolate his son, Sean, from the others and address the issues of his asinine behavior of late. He was reading Sean the riot act when Betty joined them, hearing a particularly harsh statement Shane made to his son.

“Shane, darling, I think that’s not being fair,” she protested.

Shane turned to her, his green eyes filled with fury. “Don’t interfere between my son and me when we’re having a discussion. In fact, we don’t need you in here at all, Betty.”

Sean, seeing a marvelous opportunity to defray matters and end the ire filled harangue of his father, grabbed Betty’s hand.

“Get the hell out of here, Betty,” roared her husband.

She ran, with tear blurred eyes, and left the room. Shane finished speaking with his son about his smart ass behavior on a less confrontational level. He even managed to do some bonding with his son during the session. He went on deck and found Staci, Joshua and Jason playing shuffle board. He looked for Betty and was told by the steward that she was in their state room. She lay on the bed sobbing.

“How did we get here, Shane? We seem to be falling apart,” she cried.

“Since when do you feel free to correct me when I discipline my son?”

“I thought they were ‘our’ children now, Shane.”

“Even if they are, Betty, I don’t need your interference.”

He stalked out of the room, went on the aft deck and stood looking down at the wake. Betty was right on the money, he thought sadly – they were falling apart.

Betty fell ill with bronchitis. She was bedridden and feeling miserable. Shane was slated for his trip to South Africa and Namibia. He asked Sloane Simba to accompany him. Then there was Dina Myers, the expert on South African law, who was also asked, at the last minute, to go. The threesome, guards and crew took off in Simba One, heading for their first stop which was Namibia. The president of that country had made arrangements for Kenya’s president to meet with him at the Swakopmund Hotel & Entertainment Centre. There Shane could work with the various parties dealing with the AIDS crisis in Namibia. This large luxury hotel complex was on the romantic Skeleton Coast that fronted the Atlantic Ocean. They spent three days in Namibia working with and helping the various people who were fighting the AIDS battle in that country. Dina was a key figure with her steel trap mind and knowledge of African law. During the afternoon siesta, which is common to Africa, Shane and Dina would use the hotel sports equipment and wind surf. Dina, having taken vacations with school friends to the coastal city of Durban, South Africa, had aced the water sports that Shane so loved. Sloane would go to his hotel room and wonder what in the hell was going to happen next. The paparazzi were out in droves. They sensed something going on with the president and sexy, curvaceous lawyer.

The hotel and Shane with Dina on the beach in Namibia....

Sloane Simba lay on his hotel bed during siesta hours and placed a call to Caroline Cheetah’s office at WMM-TV. She had just finished taping her cooking show and was back at her desk mapping out tomorrow’s recipes. She answered.

“Hi, Caroline, it’s me.”

“Are you back in the Mara, Sloane?”

“I wish,” he groaned.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m sitting in my damn room in Namibia for the afternoon break. I guess the president and that damn Dina are flaunting their buff asses on the beach.”

“Why don’t you join them, you’re buff too?”

“Because, I am here as a beard for those two and resent the hell out of it.”

“Have they copulated yet?” she giggled.

“I don’t know and no longer care. I’m bored silly. AIDS is not my bag. I need to be in the office working on briefs for all the cases we have lined up.”

“Poor baby,” she purred. “You’ll be back soon and I’ll make it all better.”

Despite the togetherness at the conference and in water sports, Shane and Dina had still not fulfilled their longing for one another. Sloane, various members of the Namibian group, Shane and Dina would dine together and later go to the bar for a night cap. Shane would drink enough so that he would fall asleep quickly and not yield to temptation. Then, it was on to Cape Town, South Africa and the site of their next meeting with President Thabo Mbeki and a booking in the Hotel Le Vedome, a five star luxury affair on the beach. Sloane, really not being grounded on issues of AIDS and HIV, was superfluous at the conference. Dina was at Shane’s side telling of the laws that still existed in South Africa and were hindering the treatment of the virus. She worked long and hard and was invaluable to Shane and the others with her quick and accurate information. On Sunday the conference convened for only a few hours. Shane and Dina met on the beach and windsurfed. The water was rough, the wind high and Dina’s board blew over, tossing her in the water. Shane got off quickly and helped her get back on, holding her until she could remount. They made it back to the beach. The paparazzi were waiting. They made their way with the guards to the hotel. Shane was coming from the shower in his suite when the guard knocked on the door. Dina was standing beside him. He drew Dina inside and made her a drink.

“I want to thank you for saving my life this afternoon. I would have drowned if you hadn’t gotten off your board and helped me.”

She was wore a sundress with spaghetti straps. Shane pulled her to him and slid the straps from her shoulders. She moaned.

“I’ve never had sex before but I know that I want you,” she said, burying her face in his chest where his robe had fallen away.

“Oh my God,” he moaned, carrying her to the bed.

The hotel, Shane and Dina in Cape Town....

I stared with horror at the picture on the front of the Kenya Post. It was a picture of Shane and Dina on a beach together. I thanked God that Betty was indisposed and gave orders for all the pictures of the president with Dina not be given to the first lady who was still in bed with bronchitis. I visited her each afternoon before I went home. She was depressed and had a terrible cough. Dr. Frank Tigeres had paid daily visits to the State Mansion to give Betty injections of penicillin and make sure she was improving.

“He hasn’t called me but once since he left, Maurice,” she said hoarsely during one of my visits.

“Betty, I am sure he is very busy working. A conference is a consuming thing as you well know.”

She wasn’t convinced. I left her bedside and went home to find Lachlan busy marinating pork medallions in my kitchen. He had bought them from Margaux’s store in the Mall. I gave him a kiss which he returned. My distress was evident.

“Lachlan, can’t you do anything to help Betty?” I asked, handing him the damning news photo.

He looked at it for a time before handing it back.

“Maurice, we cannot let their angst color our relationship. I am a psychiatrist and being that have never been able to take my patients home with me or I’d go mad. I counsel both Betty and Shane. Betty went into this marriage with her eyes wide open. They will either make it work, or they won’t but it will not be the focus of our lives, if I can help it. I suggest you retire with Ralph Lyon. You have your art and the arts center you endowed. Leave the damn State House and Shane and Betty’s bullshit behind. It is taking a toll on you already, Maury.”

I looked into his loving eyes and knew the truth of what he said.

“I will give your suggestion some serious thought, Lachlan. I will never let anything distract me from our lives.”