Maurice & Friends

The Lyon’s seemed anxious to give up the residence on the grounds of the State House early and move into their newly completed home in the Lyon Pride Compound. Shane told them not to rush. The truth of the matter was that Shane Simba was feeling melancholy about leaving the lovely home on Leoparde Drive where he had moved in and married Betty. The president-elect, growing even more dependant emotionally on his devoted wife, mourned the temporary loss of the comfortable and sumptuous house where their catalog of memories lay within every nook and cranny of the dwelling. The State Mansion where they were to live had been built earlier this year by Ralph’s son, Lewis Lyon. It was based on the entertainment needs of the first family of Kenya and having three stories, contained a personal living quarters on the top floor. The house was huge and very lavish. CHANGING SPOTS had sent representatives abroad to bring the finest of antiques and fabrics to play in the residence of the President of Kenya. One thing the two lion presidents of Kenya shared, both present and incoming, was an admiration for simplicity. There was little simplicity in the décor of the State Mansion. It was designed for entertaining the Royal and grand of the world.

Shane sat gazing across Betty’s charming back yard. He seemed distracted after a long day of preparation for the changeover at the State House. He sat smoking as he watched the birds make their last flight before the sun set behind the Fever Trees.

“You seem sad, Shane,” observed Betty, handing him his Scotch.

“Betty, I hate the State Mansion. I don’t know why. I love this place. I dread leaving it. All our memories are here.”

She sat down next to him on the chaise lounge. She took his paw in her hand and stroked it.

“My darling, you are weary from campaigning and working so hard. You will get used to the house. What is it that you don’t like?”

“Every room looks like a damn castle. All it lacks is a fucking moat. I think Mildred Lyon likes that style and I believe that Ralph hates it. I hate it too.”

“I’ll take Sylvia Cougar over there and see what she can suggest to lighten it up. And remember, we will have our savanna retreat soon.”

They went to bed early. Sleep failed to come to Shane. Betty, who was a chronic insomniac, lay nestled in the curve of his arm.

“Betty, I think I’m going to hate the presidency too.”

She sat up abruptly and leaned over him.

“Shane, this is fatigue speaking. It is your destiny to be the leader of Kenya. Ralph Lyon knew this and now it is to be.”

“I wonder if Ralph ever felt this way,” he said, his voice catching on what sounded suspiciously like a sob.

“Shane, I wrote his biography and spent long hours talking with him. I know he was at a loss when he first became president. Why don’t you talk to him about it, darling? I’m sure he would want you to.”

“Good idea, Fifi,” he said stroking her hair.

She lay curved against his side until the sound of his even breathing told her he was asleep. Finally, as dawn sent its tentacles of light into the room, she drifted into an uneasy slumber.

President Ralph Lyon looked up from his desk to see Shane come into his office. He greeted him and offered him coffee.

“Sir, may I speak frankly with you?”

“Of course you may, Shane.”

“Did you ever get very cold feet about becoming president?”

“I wondered when you’d come. I hoped you wouldn’t be tongue tied about this issue,” smiled Ralph. “I was in desperate straits for ages when I first took office. I ran on a lark – a suggestion and dare from Sylvia Cougar. I knew nothing about politics and had little education. I was a mess. The wise old warrior, Nelson Mandela, befriended me and set me on the correct path. He is waiting to see you too. You have the education and training, Shane. You are far ahead of where I was. I’ll call Mandiba (Mandela) right now. I want you to go and spend a week with him. Charley and I will cover details here. I don’t want you to take Betty. I want you free to absorb the wisdom of that grand old man.”

“Thank you, Sir,” said a relieved Shane.

Ralph made arrangements for the smaller official jet to take Shane to South Africa and Nelson Mandela. Shane went home with Betty to pack for the trip.

“Ralph wants me to go alone, Fifi. I won’t be up to anything, I promise.”

“Oh Shane, darling, I know you’re not up to anything. I want this trip for you. I think Mandiba will set you at ease and put you on the right mental path for the presidency.”

Betty drove with Shane, his driver and guards to the official airstrip which housed the presidential jets. He held her close.

“Betty, you’ll never know how much I love you,” he said.

“You are the love of my life. I will miss you but know that you are doing the thing needed for your peace of mind, darling.”

He released her and headed for the steps leading to the plane. He waved before entering the cabin. Betty watched as Shane’s plane taxied down the runway and took off into the lowered cloud banks. They had celebrated an early New Year’s Eve together before his departure.

Sylvia Cougar, freed from her duties as Masai Mara mayor, was taking more interest in CHANGING SPOTS, the interior design and architectural studio she had founded years before. She walked through the State Mansion with Betty.

“Betty, I don’t think we want to change the downstairs. We looked everywhere for these furnishings. It’s formal for a reason but we can certainly de-formalize the family quarters for Shane’s tastes.”

“I wouldn’t want to change the public areas. But Shane doesn’t like formality in his personal living quarters.”

It was established that Sylvia and her staff at CHANGING SPOTS would order new pieces and change the décor in the family dining area, den, study, living room as well as Betty and Shane’s bedroom.

Caitlin Cougar Simba proceeded with her divorce from Sloane, despite a brief get together for talking in Mombasa. Sloane was miserable. He did manage to insert visitation rights for the coming cub(s) in the papers. He realized that he needed to straighten himself out. He either wanted to fuck around or be a married male with a family. One thing he had begun to realize was that he did, indeed, love his wife. With Steven already out of the fray, pursuing Cameron Caracal, Alexander back in the saddle with Lucy and his children, Sloane deciding to clean up his act, it left Sidney to hold the orgy fort down. This he did with gusto once he was released from the mental health center.

Dr. Cary Caracal sat sobbing in a chair near the desk of Dr. Lachlan Lion. She grabbed more tissue from the box kept on his desk and blew her nose.

“You’re a good psychiatrist, Cary. I hate to see you going down a thorny path like this one,” he stated, waving the report of her drug test at her.

“Lachlan, please don’t fire me,” she sobbed.

“I’m not. I am going to put you on temporary leave if you will consent to go to drug rehab in Nairobi. I know you can’t go into ours since you don’t want to lose face with our patients. The one in Nairobi is very private. Will you do this, Cary?”

“Yes, and thank you, Lachlan.”

Betty Chimpo Simba’s next call was to Lewis Lyon, who had become a great personal friend of Shane’s, to ask him to push the envelope on the savanna home. He assured her he would put an extra crew to work on it.

The report of Caroline Cheetah’s Christmas drug usage was submitted to the courts and put on the desk of Chief Magistrate, Sefu Simba. There he studied it carefully and decreed that Shane Simba, Jr. would remain in the home of his father for at least a year. Caroline would be allowed to visit him when she was declared drug free for three months. Betty was elated. When Shane called from South Africa, she told him the joyous news. Sonny would be a little over year old before his mother got the chance to get him back. By then, he would be reaching lion adulthood and attached to his father, siblings and stepmother.

During Shane’s absence, Betty busied herself with details of the changeover and smoothing the path for her stressed husband. She paid an impromptu visit to the home of Sarah Lee Simba.

“Shane needs everyone he loves. This will be a trying time for him, running Kenya. He needs his pride and most of all you, his mother.”

Sarah Lee, as is her habit, shed a few overly dramatic tears before clasping Betty’s hand.

“Of course, Betty, we will be there for him and for you,” declared the aging lioness.

Bertram and I prepare for our New Year's Eve dinner at his house......

Bertram and I decided to have a New Years Eve dinner at his house. Lachlan would be there as well as the reason for the occasion – Betty, in her last few days before her husband’s return from South Africa. We hated for her to spend New Year’s Eve alone. I had arrived a bit early on the appointed evening, bringing a tray of canapés I had prepared. Later, after an early dinner, more friends would join us. We sipped our drinks as we fiddled with the buffet details.

“I somehow miss the old, unerringly self-absorbed Betty, don’t you, Maurice?”

This was out of the blue and I giggled a bit at the abruptness of the question, mainly because I felt something of the same.

“Frankly, I do. Betty is wearing herself out these days being all about Shane Simba. She is recovering from a bout with cancer and needs to attend her own needs once in a while.”

“You are quite right about that. Shall we address this issue tonight?”

“I think Lachlan would be the best to do that, being a shrink and all, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do. We’ll put the bug in his ear, Maurice.”

Shane Simba arrived back in the Mara from ten days with Nelson Mandela, the wise old man of Africa. As he got off the plane to greet his wife, Betty noticed the new spring in his step and confidence in his demeanor. There was peace in the light eyes as he took her in his arms for a greeting kiss. It was early afternoon so he drove with her to the State House to report to Ralph Lyon on his trip. He and Betty both worked there for a while before going home. The evening was clear and lovely as they relaxed with their ritual drinks and cigarettes. Miss B brought Sonny out to play with them.

“You seem so much better, darling,” said Betty, holding Sonny. “Mandiba must have hit the right note with you.”

‘He is a nothing short of magnificent, Fifi. He brought peace to my troubled mind, saying he would always be there for me if I needed him.”

“And Ralph will be there too, Shane. You are not alone in this, darling. You have your children, me and your pride members.”

“The greatest of these is you, Betty. If I have you, I will be fine.”

“You will always have me, Shane Simba. I will never leave your side.”

Mildred and Ralph Lyon moved to their new home in the Lyon Pride Compound, leaving the State Mansion vacant. There was a welcoming bash for them when the move was complete. The entire pride turned out to celebrate the return of their leader, father, grandfather and his main lioness. A feeling of serenity and peace prevailed as the sun sank lower in the western sky beyond the savanna. Ralph’s grandchildren surrounded him. That night the retiring first couple slept soundly in their new room with the two double beds sitting side by side. Mildred did not even mind the snores of her sleeping husband.

Two days later, Shane and Betty bit the bullet and moved into their refurbished personal quarters of the State Mansion. Shane seemed pleased at the airy and casual décor that now adorned the family’s living quarters. Betty went ahead with the planned nursery for Sonny. He would be theirs for at least a year. The children spread out in their new rooms.

Three days later, flying in a Lear Jet owned by Leoparde-Lyon Safari Club, Ashley Lyon piloted his wife, Leah, Betty, Shane, Staci and Arlon to England where they would see Arlon off to his university. Sean and Sonny had been taken to Ashley and Leah’s home to be with their younger cubs. The flight attendant served champagne to the passengers. They all toasted Arlon and his new endeavor.