Maurice & Friends

Our lion president returned to the mansion in the Mara where his wife and two children were reinstated. It was a different Shane Simba who entered the living quarters. He paced the floor in the library despite the alcoholic drinks designed to lessen the pain of his country’s upheaval. He worked at his desk in the mansion office for long hours. Alexandra could hear his roars of pain as he attempted to make sense of the genocidal mobs armed with machetes who were murdering innocent people. However, there was no getting to him in his agony. There had been no great coming together of husband and wife. Shane Simba was in a different land – one filled with horror at what human beings were perpetrating on the country where hope had held sway. Tribal warfare was taking Kenya out of the shining place it had held as the first animal governed society

At the State House, we will soon welcome august visitors. Former U.N. Secretary-General Kofi Annan has agreed to take over the negations in concert with the beloved former president of South Africa, Nelson Mandela. Alexandra was back in her office in the State House. She is working with Bernice Bear on a reception at the mansion to welcome the visitors. When his wife came to his office today and apprised Shane of the matter, he only winced.

After she had left, he rearranged some papers on his desk and commented, “Kenya is burning around us and she arranges tea parties.”

“Well, I suppose we must give a bow to the civilities,” I defended.

“Perhaps,” was his halfhearted response.

Nelson Mandela, Kofi Annan and Shane Simba gather for purposes of helping solve Kenya's problems..

Betty Chimpo had just completed a lecture on Descartes last published work, Passions of the Soul. The afternoon sun was warm on her back as she made her way to her car. She admired the newer buildings on the campus that were being built despite Kenya’s crisis. She reached her car. Dickey Simba was leaning against it, cigarette in hand. She had not seen or heard from him since that night in his apartment.

“I’m surprised to see you here, Dickey. I don’t think of this campus as being your particular ‘beat’,” she said, heart thudding in her chest.

“It’s not as a rule but my best friend happens to be head of the journalism department here.”

Betty felt tears sting her eyes. “Coffee?”

“How about early drinks at my place instead - we don’t want to indulge in too much caffeine, now do we?”

Dickey Simba waits for Betty.....

Alexandra Simba had gone home early to set the stage for evening drinks with her husband. He arrived late as was usually the case these days. After a brief visit with Sacha and Tanya, he sat heavily on the couch and stared at the fire. Alexandra handed him a drink and made the plunge.

“Shane, it is as if you hate me these days because I am part of the human race. Remember, I am not an indigenous Kenyan – not a member of the Luo or Kikuyu tribes who are wreaking this havoc. I am a member of an English family who settled here and attempted to preserve the animal populations.”

He lit a cigarette and sat back with a laconic expression. His short laugh was neither pleasant nor warming. It was in fact, chilling.

“You colonialists practiced no form of conservation in Kenya, Alexandra. You came here and almost decimated the animals that provided you with exotic trophies and meat for your tables. It was after colonial rule ended that Jomo Kenyatta began conservation practices. It you colonialists had your way not a lion, cheetah, leopard or animal with antlers would be left to conserve.”

His green eyes were ice, his voice arctic.

“You have two human children, Shane, please remember that,” she gasped, her pain was terrific.

“I have two half-lion children, Alexandra, and I love both.”

She was too heartsick to ask if she was included in that love. She only knew that the male she had shared such an intensity of feelings with was no longer there for her emotionally. She phoned her dear friend, Gina Genet Lyon, that night and cried her sadness to the wife of Shane’s best friend, Lewis Lyon.

The following day at the State House, Lachlan surprised me along with the staff. He asked if Shane was free. Shane came from his inner office.

“If you have a few minutes, I thought you might like to talk to someone objective,” offered my psychiatrist lover.

I saw Shane blink back tears as he put out a hand and said, “Thank God you’re here. I certainly could use that.”

The two - shrink and former client- closed Shane’s office door behind them –they talked for two hours.

Dickey Simba made drinks for Betty and him. They took them to Dickey’s balcony overlooking the vast savanna. A thin pillow of black smoke was coming from the distant hills.

“Has the terror spread to the Cholulu area?” asked Betty. “That’s where Jack lives.”

“Mostly it is around the Great Rift Valley area and Eldoret but much is just outside of Nairobi. These are terrible times, Betty. I stayed at the State House most of the night, working with Shane. That’s why I left a bit early today. Mandela and Kofi Annan are coming in this evening. I’m invited to the reception for them.”

“Thank you for spending your bit of off time with me.”

“Betty, I have kicked myself over my asinine behavior when you were here the last time. I suppose I got childishly peevish when you turned down my hashish – more a guilt thing than true disappointment. It is just one of my many disgusting habits.”

“Dickey, I am sure you greatly exaggerate your sinful behavior. It can’t be all that bad.”

“I have a terrific disconnect between my sex life and other aspects. I was diagnosed as bi-polar in Amsterdam but since no one there wanted to deal with a manic depressive lion, I wasn’t invited for further exploration of my emotional difficulties,” he laughed. “Who in Holland or elsewhere wants to deal with a male lion that’s fucked up in the head?”

“Have you seen Lachlan? He is wonderful and also my shrink. I wouldn’t have any other.”

“No, when I returned to the Mara I decided on continuing my self-medication which includes hashish, booze, cigarettes and ….never mind. You need a refill,” he said, taking Betty’s glass to the kitchen.

Betty was dying to get the skinny on the ‘never mind’ part but was certainly not going to probe. She was just happy to be here again and still in the good graces of a male she was falling deeply in love with against her better judgment. This was no rebound from Shane Simba. This was a thing apart. He returned with her drink and once more they chatted easily, finding humor in the same things and where they could amidst the calamity of Kenya.

“I’m afraid I have to get back to the State House, Betty. I told Shane I would join him at the airport when Mandela and Annan arrived. We’ll do this again,” he said.

She stood and allowed him to escort her to the parking area and her car. There was no kiss. Nevertheless, the afternoon had been spontaneous and wonderful for both of them.

A strained executive couple attend the reception....

The reception was glamorous as things usually are when engineered by Alexandra Delamere Simba. Warm fires glowed in both downstairs reception rooms of the state mansion. Guests mingled about after passing the receiving line. Only the tense expressions reminded that us that Kenya was on the verge of anarchy.

Only we who are thrown into daily contact with the presidential marriage could tell that things were not as they once had been. Both smiled, greeted and charmed but the loving and touchy-feely ambience of the Simba marriage was not present this night. Lachlan had told me, having engaged in that talk with Shane, he was surprised the lion president was still on his feet.

“He is in shock at the thought that our new age society could come tumbling down with this tribal turmoil. It’s easy to see that those African that have undergone lawless catastrophes are not fit for humans or animals. Their societies are a matter of ruin, Maurice,” he had stated, depressing me no end.

Then he had added, “But if we do survive this episode, Shane Simba will have grown to such stature that we will all have to sit up and take notice. He has been forced to grow up and will be the better for it in the long run.”

“Do you think his marriage to Alex will survive, Lachlan?” I just had to ask.

“Their troubles are a matter of his being shell shocked and put off by humans at the moment. Add to this his tremendous fatigue. I think they’ll make their way through this.”

This made me feel immensely better so we dressed for the reception.

Chris Simba had never been one to sing the praises of fatherhood before the advent of his ninth cub, but this was about to change. He and his lover, Caitlin Cougar, took small Beatrice Cougar-Simba home on a warm, fragrant morning. Chris held the small spotted cub as she stretched and mewed slightly, her eyes still tightly closed. He fell in love on the spot. He was beginning to do the same with her mother who’s amazing, no frills birthing had impressed the living daylights out of the male lion. As a very loving couple, they attended the reception for Annan and Mandela.

Chris and Caitlin admire their newborn cub.....

Wilda Wildebeest begged Betty Chimpo to attend the reception at the mansion with her. Betty didn’t want to go in case Dickey Simba should think it was an attempt at tracking him down again. However, Wilda was Betty’s housemate, best friend and all around gal pal. Betty caved in.

A nervous Betty went about following Wilda at the reception. She chatted briefly with Mandela and Kofi Annan. She spotted Sean Simba at the bar. He pointedly ignored her in order to score points with his father, who at this moment in time no longer gave a rat’s ass. She looked around for Wilda who had wandered off among the crowd.

“I see the boy king is giving you the obvious cold shoulder,” said a voice behind her. “Let’s go to the other bar where Sean isn’t posturing.”

She turned to see Dickey Simba. He was dressed in an elegant tuxedo and looking more heavenly than she could have imagined. She followed him to the bar in the adjoining reception area.

“What brings you here?” he asked, handing her a gin martini.

“Wilda Wildebeest, my dear friend, begged me to come with her. I think she felt I had been burning the midnight oil too long and needed some entertainment of sorts.”

“I like Wilda. She’s at the State House a great deal these days with the crisis. She’s a seasoned reporter and knows her stuff. She doesn’t seem to think too highly of lions but then being a wildebeest it would be astounding if she did - racial memory and all that."

“She adores Ralph Lyon,” giggled Betty.

“Every species on earth adores Ralph Lyon.”

A seductively dressed and coiffed figure approached. It was Caroline Cheetah who gave Betty a faint nod and centered her attentions on Dickey.

“You are far too busy these days for my taste, Dickey,” purred Caroline, running sleek hands over the lion’s jacket.

Caroline managed to place her stylishly slender body between Dickey and Betty. Betty slipped away and sought Wilda.

“Had enough of this party?” asked Wilda.

“Let’s go,” agreed Betty.

They headed for the front door, Betty giving Alexandra and Shane brief hugs as they made their exit.