Maurice & Friends

As luck would have it (isn’t this always the way?) Shane Simba was in the far north of Kenya when Betty felt the first contractions. She had been feeling funny all morning not taking her usual place at the desk in her office in the State House. She rang my office after an hour of recurring, pulsating pains in her abdomen. I summoned the official Rolls Royce and went with her to the Exotic Animal Clinic. Reporters monitor the radio and phone activity between the clinic and State House. They were at the emergency entrance when Betty and I arrived. The guards pushed them back while I took the shaky Betty inside. Being the president’s wife, she received immediate attention. Drs. Frank Tigeres and Sylly Cougar Lyon came straight away to her bedside. After taking her for a sonogram, Frank told me that she was in labor and the cub, though slightly early, was a big one.

“Maurice, will you play the good surrogate hubby and sit by her side while we confer as to the best course of action?” inquired Sylly.

I told her ‘of course’ and went to join Betty in the presidential suite. Betty was quite nervous and jumpy. I held her hand and she seemed to calm a bit. After what seemed like hours, Frank and Sylly joined by Dr. Ted Tigeres came to the room.

“We have to take the cub by caesarian, Betty. You can have two more cubs after this, if all goes well. Will that be enough?” laughed Frank.

“I think it will,” answered Betty, not seeming all that sure.

They ousted me from the room while they prepped her for surgery. Then I was back at her side, holding her hand and playing Shane Simba.

“Can you find Shane, Maury? Please try,” she begged.

“He is supposed to return this evening, Betts. We will raise him and try to get him here sooner,” I assured her.

Lachlan, being in the hospital checking on a potential transferee to his center, joined us.

“Is Maury a good substitute for your husband, Betty?” he asked in merry amusement.

“Yes, he’s been wonderful, Lachlan. He always is.”

A nurse came in to give Betty her preoperative joy juice by injection. It was not too many minutes after that she became all vivacious and giggly.

“Do you think I’ll go nuts again, Lachlan? You know – my post partum inclinations?” she giggled.

“No, Betty, that condition usually comes with ovaries. You have none. You are in a unique position. Another plus is that the times I saw you before you were mostly in arrears due to your unrequited love for Shane. This problem has been nipped in the bud so you should be just fine.”

The nurses came for her. She departed from us with great mushiness and sloppy kisses as they took her away. We both laughed.

“I have to get back to the center, Maury. I don’t think you will get home anytime soon, owing to your surrogate husbanding. I will have a rich stew made when you get there,” he promised as he left.

I made my way to the VIP waiting room outside of surgery. I could hear the gathering reporters in the hall waiting for word. I called Sloane’s office and he told me that Shane had already been notified and was on his way back to the Mara. I waited. In time, Sloane Simba joined me.

Betty waked groggily, pain wracking her midsection. Through hazy and blurring vision she realized that she was in the hospital. She put her hand to her stomach and moaned.

“Fifi, we have a son, a beautiful one,” said a voice. “He’s absolutely perfect in every way.”

Betty turned her head to see her husband sitting next to her, his chair pulled closely to her bed.

“Oh, Shane, darling, you made it back.”

“Yes, I did. You should have told me this morning before I left that you had plans for today,” he teased.

Two nurses entered her room. One had a pain injection to put in her IV. The other held her new son. The nurse lowered the adorable cub whose eyes were tightly shut, to his mother’s arms. Betty was overcome with emotion. Here was the child she had wanted for so long – Shane Simba’s son.

“What shall we name him, Shane?”

“You have had several sons all named for their father’s prides. Now you need one named for your family heritage, Fifi.”

“Only one name of mine, darling. That will be quite enough. We can name him for my great grandfather, Figan. I want the other name to be of your choice. Figan can be his middle name.”

“I don’t want juniors. I don’t like that idea. I didn’t even name my first son for me. Would you mind if we named him Solomon for my dead brother? I know it’s a mouthful but we can call him Solly.”

“Oh, darling, would that make you happy – it’s a beautiful name?”

“It will make me very happy, Fifi. I can make it up to Solly by naming this special cub after him.”

“He is special, isn’t he, Shane?”

“He truly is. He’s ours, Betty.”

I went home to dinner late, just as Lachlan had predicted. Shane had called me ahead of his arrival and asked if I would hold a press conference and announce the birth when it happened. I had done that, telling the reporters that one would follow later, with more detail, when the president arrived.

I smelled the aroma of delicious food as I walked in my front door. I made my way to the kitchen where a large pot of stew was simmering on the stove. Lachlan was stirring it. He made me a drink and handed it to me. He took off his apron and joined me in the den where he had built a cracking fire.

“Did the father of father’s arrive in time to herald the birth of his son?” asked Lachlan.

“He got there a little after the cub was actually born. I launched the basic press conference to announce the birth. Now Shane will tell the ravenous media the other details,” I giggled.

“I will be interested in knowing what this cub will do for their marriage. I believe Shane to be a loving father and a good one. As to the husband part, the jury won’t be in on that one for quite a while.”

“You do tend to be dismal on that subject, don’t you?”

“As I have said, the Simba males have a big problem with their libidos and morals. It doesn’t bode well for a marriage but then Betty is very aware of this problem.”

“How did your day go?”

“I believe that Cate Ocelot will be a huge asset to the center and a great help to me in relieving some of my work load. I will just hope she doesn’t fall into the Simba camp and have it be ruinous to her fortunes. How about some stew?”

“I would love some,” I said following him to the kitchen and bubbling pot.

Shane and Betty brought their new son home to an excited household of siblings and servants. There has to be something quite delightful about having a household made up of those who wish to carry out your every need and desire. The servants scurried about, lighting evening fires and bringing drinks. Betty, who had imbibed in almost no alcohol during her pregnancy, welcomed a very strong martini. She lit a cigarette too. The couple sat with their children and the new cub held in Shane’s lap. Betty had no idea of what the future held but she felt that never would she be happier than this night with her longed for husband, holding her longed for cub. All was right in the world of the much married Betty Chimpo Simba.

Shane holds new son, Solomon Figan Simba....

Solomon Figan Simba, from his first breath, apparently knew he was the pièce de résistance in his parent’s world. He had mewed lustily as the doctors drew him wet and mucous covered from his mother’s womb, wrapped him in a blanket and checked out his medical data. On the eighth day of his life – two days earlier than projected – he had opened sea green eyes to the world. His parents melted at the sight of them. They were absolutely besotted with their new son. Although they were both loving parents to their other offspring, it was agreed, even among his siblings, that Solly was top banana. This fact wasn’t resented at all in any quarter. The entire family stood at attention for the newborn that seemed to preside over his very special universe.

I was in Shane’s office when an excited Sloane Simba dropped by on his way home. It was five o’clock and the end of a long work day.

“I’ve got my first date with Cate Ocelot this evening. I bought her these, do you think they’re nice?” he asked, showing us a beautifully packaged box of bonbons from my sister’s fine foods store.

“Those are lovely, Sloane. I’m sure she’ll like them. Don’t count on getting a piece,” I chuckled.

“Did you check to see if Cate is diabetic?” laughed Shane. “There looks to be a lot of heavy chocolate and marzipan in that box.”

“I’m going on instinct. She doesn’t look sick,” said Sloane with a goodbye wave to us.

The handsome lion sprayed the last bit of pricey Dior male cologne on his mane, took his candy in paw and headed out the door. When he arrived at Cate Ocelot’s townhouse on the watering hole, he gave a last minute check to his jacket and brushed a bit of imagined lint. He rang the doorbell.

“Look at you,” smiled Cate. “You look simply divine.”

She let him in her attractive entrance hall and to the living area where a small table was set up with bottles of good liquor. She poured Sloane his requested Scotch and they sat down for a pre-dinner drink. Sloane found her as lovely as he had the first night of meeting her at the Cougar’s introductory party.

OKAPI’S was crowded but not noisily so as Sloane and Cate made their way to a corner table that held flowers and candles. Sloane had made reservations two days before.

“I want to know all about you and how you came to be in the Mara,” said Sloane.

Their drinks and canapés had arrived and they were comfortably ready for conversation. Sloane sat forward, anxious to hear what the lovely cat had to tell him.

“It’s a long story, sure about that?” she giggled in a silvery way.

“Absolutely.”

“My parents were friends with Janice Jaguar before she left for the Mara. It was sort of a strange friendship given the fact that jaguars are the kings of the Amazon as you lions are in Africa. I’m sure you know Janice well enough to realize what an exceptional animal she is. My parents kept in touch with her as she did them. She kept sending out feelers to them about jobs in her fashion empire. My mom and dad told her of my being a psychiatrist. Janice is a good friend of Sylvia Cougar and knew she needed one at her mental health center. As a result of that correspondence and my new boss, Lachlan Lion, here I am.”

“And I am so glad you are, Cate,” said Sloane, placing his huge paws over her dainty ones.

“Now your story, if you don’t mind. I’m a great believer in reciprocation.”

“I am a member of a pride of lions who had the worst reputation in the Masai Mara and possibly all of Kenya. I have a half brother that became a film star and the head of a major studio……”

“Roy Lee Simba?”

“I suppose everyone in the world is aware of Roy Lee who is married to your Janice again, by the way. Roy Lee educated all of us in turn and I was schooled in London as a lawyer. I came home to join my pride’s law firm. My presidential half-brother made me his minister of justice. And here I am.”

They chatted on, exploring their lives, hopes and aspirations. By the time Sloane paid the tab, they were well versed in one another.

“Tomorrow is Saturday, how about going with me after dinner to see my bush home,” he suggested. "....it's not necessarily about etchings either."

“I suppose that’s a good idea but I don’t have clothes for tomorrow.”

“I’ll return you to your home if you like but if things go well, you won’t need that many clothes,” he told her with a sheepish expression that she found totally appealing.

When they entered Sloane’s house, which had only a few dim lamps on, their mood was one of anticipation, romance and promising sensuality. Sloane turned on his CD player with the Bose speakers. They danced for a bit, the male lion towering over the ocelot. The smell of her fur was wonderful. Their dancing became closer and more physical. Sloane tipped her small face to his and kissed her. That was, quite frankly, all it took.

The next morning, a bright bird filled Saturday, they walked paw in paw to the watering hole near Sloane’s home. Cate wore her slacks of the night before and one of Sloane's tees that swallowed her almost whole.

Solomon Figan Simba was baptized amongst much grandeur and media attention in the First Church of the Ascending Predator. It was a lovely day, free of the showers and short storms that inundate us this time of year. His baptismal was followed by a huge bash held in his parent’s bush home. Lachlan and I stood aside with Bloody Marys.

“I must say Betty and Shane look unbelievably happy,” observed my lover who happens to be a shrink.

I had to agree.

The Reverend Saul Serval presides at Solly's baptismal....

Shane and Betty (below) at their bush home for the post baptismal party....