SHANE CONFERS WITH FRANK
Jealousy and love are sisters.
Russian Proverb
Shane Simba could not get to Dr. Frank Tigeres fast enough the morning after Johanna had put the ugly thought in his head as to the possibilities of her carrying a fetus that was less than perfection. Shane was a brilliant and savvy animal but his vanity at times overshadowed these characteristics. When sitting before the tiger physician in his office, door securely fastened and locked against eavesdroppers, Shane burst forth with his thoughts.
“Frank, are Johanna and I likely to produce a troll or ogre..... some circus freak?”
“I have no idea, Shane. We will have to view ultrasound images before we have even a clue to what is there. It’s far too early for that. Johanna, being human, could have the regular nine month gestation period that is typical for her species.”
This was not the answer he wanted. Shane was filled with a jumble of emotions. He deplored the fact of a female being pregnant that long, added to her living with him during all those months, which could prove strenuous if she was prone to the mood swings and other dithers of pregnancy. Shane Simba had undergone fatherhood a number of times but always with female animals who, in his mind, had realistic gestation periods. He especially admired the feline pregnancy of a mere three months and some odd days. That was certainly time enough to have to endure a female jumping out of her skin, barfing, getting the vapors and sending out at all hours of the night for peculiar foods. Shane could deal and had dealt with that – but a human was a whole different ball game. Nine months? He groaned loudly and put his face in his paws. In that moment, it occurred to him that his wife, Betty, combined the best of both worlds. She looked human but in reality was an animal. Shane did enjoy the pulchritude and scent of a human female. Those full and luscious bosoms of Johanna's, rising and falling with each breath, were a constant source of delight to him.
Shane confers with Dr. Frank Tigeres in his office.....
Arriving at the office late, he called me in and asked me if I thought Lachlan could continue his counseling sessions. I called him at his office.
“No, Maury, I am booked solid. I can refer him to one of my staff psychiatrists if he wants that.”
I relayed that message to Shane. He was decidedly miffed at being rejected. Shane had known little rebuff in his adult life, being highly accomplished and totally attractive. He was especially sensitive to it now that he was the President of Kenya. He declined Lachlan's offer of another shrink.
“No, thank you, Maurice, I will just sit at the back of the class and wait my turn like a good boy,” he had snapped.
Caroline Cheetah Simba had been born into this world with full blown self confidence. These qualities were well founded in that she had a hot body, drop dead gorgeous cheetah face and enough sex appeal to melt a male’s entrails. She was also brash, outspoken and caustic. She was an adequate mother to her cub, Sunny, but wasn’t heavy on the sentiment. As a result of her rather stern but efficient mothering, he was a dandy young cub, well behaved and possessing a sunny disposition – hence his nickname. The same couldn’t be said of her husband, Sloane Simba’s daughter, Georgy. The lion-cougar mix cub was petulant, spoiled and a dedicated daddy’s girl. Georgy Simba had given her mother and her new husband, Homer Leo, such grief that Caitlin had asked Sloane if Georgy might stay with him for a while – at least until she and Homer had a chance to settle into their new lives together. Caitlin Cougar Leo was a devoted mother and wouldn’t have asked this favor except in extremis. It was certainly not to be a permanent arrangement. Sloane Simba, not having the nerve to ask his hot-tempered wife up front, simply arrived with Georgy during a week day afternoon. Caroline seeing the twosome pull in the drive smelled a rat. Georgy Simba had every other weekend with her dad, and that was trying enough. Moreover, it got worse. Sloane lifted the trunk of his car and removed two very large pieces of luggage. They entered the home and Caroline went to greet them.
“Is Caitlin sick?”
“No,” answered Sloane, giving his wife a kiss. “Georgy is going to be staying here for a while. We’ll discuss it later.”
Georgy stood partially behind her father, sticking a long pink tongue out at Caroline, whom she detested. The feeling was entirely mutual. This cozy scene was interrupted by Sunny coming down the hall and greeting his stepsibling. Sunny liked Georgy. She was the only youthful companion he had except in lower school during the term. Sloane had built his house deep in the savanna. There were no neighbor’s young to play with at this location. Caroline folded her arms in anticipation of battle. A conflict failed to occur. At the end of the day, it was Sloane’s home and Sloane’s daughter and although he was challenged mightily at times, he wore the damn pants.
Daddy and husband, Sloane Simba who decidedly wears the pants in his household....
In Leah Simba’s home on Leoparde Drive, a conflagration was taking place. Imani Janice Lyon, another award winning brat, was holding forth. She had been deposited there by her father, Ashley, who had closed his bungalow and was now shacking up with Simone Serval in her ritzy penthouse. Given that fact, Imani had to return to Leah and face the coming school term.
“Imani, honey, I want you to meet Trevor soon. We’re sort of serious,” began Leah in her usual genteel manner.
Imani turned on her mother with feral wrath.
“I don’t want to meet your current fuck,” she screamed, heading for the stairs and her room. “Ashley Lyon is my father and I will accept no other.” This edict was topped off by a loud slamming of the door to her upstairs bedroom.
Imani was nothing if not a major drama queen – a frustrated movie idol. In fact the main thing she liked about her maternal grandfather, Roy Lee Simba, was his successful film studio. Leah shook her head in dismay. Thus was the dawning of another rabid daddy’s girl. There was a major difference, however, between Georgy Simba and Imani Lyon. Georgy had always adored her father since the time she had first opened her blue eyes and gazed upon him. As for Imani Lyon, she had disliked and locked horns with Ashley until her mother had separated from him. Now Imani was a martinet on the subject of her dad.
Two days before Solly Simba was to meet Ashley Lyon’s plane in Tanzania, Betty heard footsteps on her stairs leading to the porch. She went to see who was there and almost collided with Shane. She tried to keep in check her usual physical reaction to his presence – the clammy palms, erratic heartbeat, flushed face and heightened eroticism – the entire cornucopia of intense attraction.
“What are you doing h-here?” she stammered.
“I came for Solly. I thought I’d stay a couple of nights so his visit wouldn’t be shortened.”
“What?”
“I will be sleeping in another bed - I don’t intend to attempt copulation with you. Wherever Solly is sleeping will be fine with me.”
While she absorbed this bit of disquieting information, a call sounded outside.
“Betty, are you there?”
Shane stepped on the porch and looked over the railing.
“I want to speak with Betty. She buys fish from me,” said a male lion, standing below.
“Who the hell are you?” asked Shane, foregoing his usual manners.
“I just told you. I sell fish. I want to see Betty.”
“I’m her husband,” announced Shane.
“I know who the hell you are. We’re in Tanzania and I don’t give a shit that you’re the president of Kenya. Get Betty to come out.”
Shane bristled. He was accustomed to a certain amount of fawning even in foreign countries. He sized up the other lion and deemed him to be rough trade. Rather than have a confrontation with him, he decided to let the matter drop. There was no guarantee that the paparazzi wouldn’t spring out of the wood work and photograph him in a compromising situation. That would be ‘so them’, he reasoned. He didn't need any negative publicity aside from that his convoluted sex life provided.
“I’ll get Betty,” growled Shane.
“Sounds like a plan,” snarled Tarzan.
He stepped inside the house. “Betty, there’s a lion outside hawking fish. He says you’re a customer.”
“Oh that’s Tarzan,” she exclaimed pulling some Tanzanian money from a kitchen drawer.
“Tarzan? His bloody name is Tarzan? Oh yes, of course, I remember now – Tarzan, lord of the apes.”
“Shut up, Shane,” shouted Betty, pushing past him and heading down the outside stairs. At the foot, she stuck the bills in Tarzan’s shirt pocket and accepted the large paper wrapped fish.
“I will explain all this later,” she said.
“You don’t owe me any explanation,” declared Tarzan, throwing up his paws and stepping back in an exaggerated gesture of denunciation.
“I know I don’t, but it just so happens I want to offer one anyway. We’ll talk later.”
His stance softened a bit. He stepped forward again.
“Good luck with the wacko upstairs,” he said, then turned and walked away.
She reentered the house, taking the fish to the sink where she sprayed water on the carcass and began to gut it. Shane wrinkled his nose at the stench of raw fish.
“Betty, why don’t you leave this squalor and come home? Haven’t you had enough of slumming it?”
“Where, pray tell, is home? I was living on Leoparde Drive again when I decided to come here,” she reminded.
“By your own design, you’re the one that walked out on me, remember?”
“And you asked me for a divorce, REMEMBER?”
They were shouting and woke their son from his nap. The altercation came to an abrupt halt when Solly padded to the kitchen and hugged his dad.
Lachlan was late, having an overload at work. I had prepared stuffed mushrooms to go with our drinks. I heard the front door open. He came to the back porch and greeted me in his usual wonderful way. I could see the weariness etched on his face. We each inquired about our respective workdays as was our custom.
“Did Shane get pissed when I turned down his counseling request?” he asked, taking a long cool drink of his gin and tonic.
“He wasn’t thrilled,” I kidded.
“I don’t want to get involved with his case right now. I know certain things about him that I don’t want to deal with at the moment.”
He saw my puzzled look.
“I trust you, Maury, and would confide, but I don’t believe it would be doing you any favors, working as closely as you do with him, if you knew them too. It’s all going to blow sky high eventually….then everyone will know.”
“Damn, Lachlan, is it a political scandal jn the making?” I asked in real alarm.
“No, of course not, he’s a damn good and totally honest president. No one can fault him there. As usual, it’s his freaking love life.”
I relaxed then. Both being tired from a long day, we ended up eating out. We chose Klip ‘n Dodi’s and had the place almost to ourselves. It was calming and most enjoyable
Solly was upstairs, snoring loudly as children will do who have played hard all day. Betty and Shane had taken him to Gombe Stream Park where he had met some of her relatives’ offspring. The chimps had been thrilled at meeting Shane who was most gracious to all of them. Solly had played games with his distant cousins, running around trees and skipping rope. Shane and Betty were now in her cozy living room with the cognac Ashley had brought the last time.
“Betty, I had told you that I am in a mess - a worse one than usual. I have managed to top my own record on this one. I want to tell you about it.”
“Go ahead, Shane. Tell me. Get a load off.”
“Johanna is pregnant. It’s a natural pregnancy and has been proven to be my child.”
He lit a cigarette. She snatched it from him.
“Are you going to sit here and feed me that royal horse shit? What kind of sub marginal village idiot do you take me for? Either she’s put horns all over you or you have let her engage in the French procedure with all your overrated DNA coming into play.”
“Betty, it’s the damn truth, it's a natural conception,” he declared, standing up to face her.
She shoved him back on the couch. Her dark eyes were filled with rage and frustration. She had almost convinced herself that she was getting over her obsession for him. Now at the thought of another female undergoing the same procedure that had given her Solly, Jalil and Tarek, she was blown away and suffocating in jealousy like she had never experienced before. Tears were running down her face. Her arms seemed glued to her sides. She had never known such concentrated misery.
“Fifi,” he said, trying to rise again.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” she screamed.
He tried to take her in his arms. She scratched his face and ran to her room, closing the flimsy door behind her. She didn’t remove her clothes but lay there all night in abject sleeplessness. She heard Shane come to the door several times; finally realizing that she wasn’t going to acknowledge him, he went up the stairs to join the sleeping Solly.
Just before dawn, she went to the kitchen and made a cup of coffee, taking it to the porch. She smoked in silence as she watched the sun rise in its splendid colors, painting the lake. She watched the distant figures load their boats and launch them for a day of fishing. She was exhausted as Shane and Solly came down stairs and bid her goodbye, Solly throwing his chubby arms around her neck. Shane stood silent not knowing what to say. She watched as the SUV pulled in front of her house and picked them up for the drive to the airport. She stood waving to Solly who was waving back at her from the rear hatch.
She sat crying for a long while, with two more cups of coffee and almost a full pack of cigarettes. Finally, she showered and went back to bed. The day would be shot anyway and she was too tired and depressed to face it.