Maurice & Friends

Sea gulls circled over the blue and green streaked Indian Ocean as Luke Leoparde headed his speed boat toward open waters. His passenger list consisted of Caitlin Cougar and Jane, the lioness who headed the news department of the Masai Mara Daily. Jane focused on the rippling muscles in Luke’s arms. Caitlin’s thoughts were of Sloane Simba who had returned her home after the delightful day with the Simba pride. He had not even given her a peck on the cheek, merely taken her to the door and bid her adieu. Caitlin had driven with Judy and Luke to Mombasa the night before. Luke was a charming host, building a cozy fire in the living room of his beach home when they arrived. They had enjoyed drinks and a late supper at Wally’s Beach Pub. Luke had been friendly to Caitlin but exhibited no interest in her other than of a platonic nature. His green eyes kept pursuing Jane. The fearless lioness had proven to be a quick study on the surfboard.

The three boaters dropped anchor at a small cove with a white sand beach. Luke took a well stocked picnic basket and put it on the table cloth that Jane spread on the ground. Luke withdrew a bottle of Merlot and they drank and smoked as they watched the porpoises in the distance. Caitlin could see the attraction between her friend and former lover deepening by the hour. She really didn’t mind. She had cared a great deal for Luke but had not reached the heightened sensations that she felt in the presence of Sloane.

When they arrived back at Luke’s house, he and Jane wanted to do some wind sailing. Caitlin was weary and decided to nap instead. She was going to prepare seafood chowder for tonight’s supper. She was about to stretch out on the bed in one of Luke’s well appointed guest rooms when her cell phone rang. It was Sloane Simba.

“Where are you, Caitlin?” he asked.

“I’m in Mombasa at Luke Leoparde’s house. Where are you?”

“I’m at Roy Lee and Chloe’s down the beach. I guess I won’t interrupt a romantic interlude. I’ll catch up with you back in the Mara.”

“No, it’s not romantic, Sloane. In fact, I think Luke is getting very interested in my friend Jane, the lioness. They’re on the beach as we speak. Luke and I are strictly nonphysical now.”

“Luke doesn’t like me so I wouldn’t want to intrude on his weekend.”

“I’m making seafood chowder tonight. Why don’t you join us, Sloane? I bought the ingredients so I can invite anyone I want.”

“Are you sure it won’t cause a stir with him, Caitlin?”

“It won’t at all. I’m telling you that we are only friends now. His heart is with Jane.”

Caitlin forgot her nap. Having been energized by the resonance of Sloane’s voice she ran down stairs and made the preparations for tonight’s potage. She was cooking away amid the sounds of a busy kitchen when Luke and Jane returned.

“Smells good, Caitlin,” observed Luke.

“Luke, I invited Sloane Simba for tonight. Do you mind terribly? He is at Roy Lee’s and called me.”

“I don’t mind Sloane personally, Caitlin. My best friend in the world is a lion. I was just trying to protect you from him but it’s evident you don’t want to be cosseted from his advances. It’s your ballgame. You name the rules and I’ll abide by them. It’s obvious that we are only good friends now and that’s fine with me.”

She wiped her paws on her apron and gave Luke a hug.

“I love being your friend, Luke. It means the world to me.”

Sloane arrived with four bottles of a very first-rate wine. They sat on the veranda with their drinks. The evening was filled with stars and a low moon hovered over the dark water. A shooting star sank in it’s depths. Luke had greeted Sloane as a welcomed guest. They were off to good start. With Caitlin obviously desirous of Sloane, Luke relaxed and paid more attention to Jane, ending up on a chaise lounge with her cuddled against him. Sloane told of his wish to buy a house in Mombasa.

That night after a delicious meal, Sloane left with compliments to the chef and thanks all around. Caitlin went to her room and Jane and Luke shared the same bed.

Jane, the lioness reporter enjoys herself in Mombasa….

Shane and Betty were getting back on their feet after her cancer bout and his air crash and painful injuries. He was back at work in the State House. She was busy helping the First Lioness raise funds for the planned cancer clinics. They were regular attendees at the First Church of the Ascending Predator. The couple realized they had made it through two life threatening calamities and needed to give God his due.

At the Lawrence Leoparde Center for the Arts, much excitement suffused the atmosphere. Micah Mbube was rehearsing for Macbeth and Chelsea Cheetah was choreographing the pre-Christmas Nut Cracker ballet. Caitlin Cougar had been invited to show her sculpture in one of the smaller galleries.

Christine Cheetah, the director, had a visitor ushered into her inner office. It was Simone Serval. After the initial pleasantries, Simone got to the point.

“I would love to try a play on your stage, Christine. If you would take a chance on me,” stated the dainty and sexy little actress.

“That might be a good thing, Simone. Let me call Micah and see if he is too busy to join us.”

After a few minutes, Micah sat down with Christine and Simone and was told of Simone’s aspiration to do a play. Micah, who had always been fond of the little Serval starlet thought it would be a good idea. He agreed to go over some possible plays with Christine that might be suitable for Simone who, after her failed affair with Roy Lee, wanted to try a different approach to her craft.

Chris Simba had taken it upon himself to stay for awhile in the living room of his ex-wife before taking the couple’s children for a weekend in Mombasa. Christine had offered Chris a drink which he had cheerfully accepted.

“Chrissie, I wish you’d start seeing me again. It would be such a good thing for the children,” he said, taking a gulp of his Scotch.

Christine lit a cigarette before answering.

“How would this benefit the children, Chris? They are much more relaxed now that you’re not here griping and groaning about their clatter.”

“I know I was rather impatient with them on occasion…..”

“On occasion did you say? It was constant, Chris. And I can never forgive you for making me feel terrible about giving you such a large litter. After I had been a good surrogate to your children, this was my first experience in real motherhood and you absolutely ruined it for me.”

“Christine, I wish you would let bygones be bygones and think of our cubs. That lion actor you’re seeing isn’t going to be a good father to them.”

Christine jumped up abruptly and took the glass out of Chris’ paw.

“Whoever the hell I choose to be my next mate will be a much better husband and father than you ever were. The children are ready now. You can leave.”

Christine gave her children kisses and Chris a glare as she opened the door for them. They piled in Chris’ car, heading for the beach. Chris spent the entire trip attempting to remove the invisible egg on his face.

Shane Simba went on a two day train trip to the upper reaches of northern Kenya. There were some troubles among the cattle raising tribes of the Turkana area that needed attending. He would make stops in the Omo River Delta areas and those along Lake Turkana. He was using the special presidential cars hooked to a regular passenger train. They consisted of a luxurious lounge, dining area and bedroom. Betty had been asked by Mildred Lyon to stay and attend to the details of the fund raising bash coming up the following week. Shane had paid little attention to the media figures who asked permission to go along. His secretary had handled the requests.

At the first overnight stop near Lake Turkana, Shane was in the train’s bedroom getting quite drunk. He had endured a long day of walking through villages with squabbling tribal leaders. Now he wanted to kick back and ease the ache in his ribs. His Masai guards were somewhere in the village eating with the tribal elders. Suddenly the door opened and Caroline Cheetah entered with a notepad and pen in paw. She sat near him.

“Can I have a story, Shane? I need a good one for my newscast next week.”

“How the hell did you get in here, Caroline?”

“There were no guards at the door so I just let myself in.”

In his drunken vision her face shimmered before him looking exactly like Catherine’s. He noticed the spotted fur of her breast which showed above the low cut chemise. Suddenly he was overcome with such longing for his dead wife he felt lightheaded. He tried to reach the Scotch bottle and knocked it over in the process. Caroline knelt next to him picking the fallen bottle from the floor. He reached down and cupped her breast. She rose to a sitting position and kissed him, working her tongue around his mouth. He stood, pulling her with him. He pushed her toward the bed. There, they had aggressive and rough sex until they both collapsed from the exhaustion of it. Suddenly Shane got up and jerked the covers from Caroline’s body.

“Get out now, Caroline. Leave here and forget we ever did this thing,” he groaned.

“I can never forget, Shane. I have wanted you for so long. We belong together,” she purred.

He yanked her from the bed and tossed her clothing at her. She got dressed and he pushed her through the door and locked it behind her. He made another drink from the dregs of whiskey remaining in the bottle. He sat on the bed and cried out in frustration at what he had just done. He wanted to phone Betty but was too filled with shame to do so. He was barely able to get up the next morning where he had another day of working with the villagers before a flight would return him to the Mara that evening. He avoided looking at Caroline who followed behind at every step using her reporter’s status as a cover for her actual motivation. Finally, after what seemed like endless hours of scorching sun and talking with tribal leaders, Shane was able to board the small aircraft that took him home. The reporters had to return on the regular passenger train, the presidential cars locked to them.

When he arrived at his home, Betty and the children welcomed him. Betty sensed something was awry with her husband but didn’t want to press the issue for weariness etched his face. He was interested in the conversation of the children and Betty at the supper table but contributed little himself. When they were finally upstairs and closed from the rest of the world, they made love. It seemed to Betty that the things he whispered to her during sex were heart meltingly tender. When she asked him if everything was all right with him, he told her his ribs had given him problems during the trip. Shane had been tempted to tell Betty of his indiscretion but remembered, from past experience, that confession might be good for his soul but it seldom helped that of his partner. As they lay in the sweet darkness of their room he told her that they would be going to Mombasa the following weekend.

Sloane Simba purchased the house that had originally belonged to Shane in Mombasa. It was the Moorish house his half-brother had bought, and conducted his disruptive affair with Johanna Delacroix on the premise. It was on the market again so Sloane decided it was the place for him to kick back and enjoy the ocean breezes. He spent his first weekend there and phoned Caitlin in the Mara but her voice mail was on. Unknown to Sloane, Caitlin was just down the way staying with her Uncle Bernard Cougar and his wife, at their plush beach digs. His brother, Alexander and his wife Lucy were staying at her magnificent home that weekend. Sloane joined them for dinner on Saturday.

Caitlin Cougar enjoyed her time with her uncle and aunt in Mombasa. They went on Bernard’s magnificent power boat to watch the humpback whales on a very early and misty morning. Then Sylvia and Bernard took her to Lamu Island where they moored the boat and walked about the town that has no cars due to the narrow streets. They enjoyed seafood in a water front café that served Retsina from Greece. They had a wonderful day and spent the night on the boat. Early the next morning they went again to the waters frequented by the humpbacks and then on to the Mombasa Simba Marina where Bernard kept his boat moored.

Lamu Island off the coast of Kenya….

Leah Lyon was only working three days a week for her husband and Luke Leoparde’s safari club. The rest of time was spent with her children. Ashley loved having his delightful wife around. She was charming the socks off the clients and employees. She flew day safaris that would go short distances to return in the evening. She boned up on her animal facts so she could tell the clients accurate assessments about the species they found in the Serengeti where she generally took them. The people who frequented her safaris loved having the pretty lioness-jaguar mix holding forth on the various orders. She pronounced lions to be her favorites among the animals, further amusing her patrons.

“My dad’s a lion and so is my hubby,” she would giggle. “I simply adore them.”

Shane and Betty spent an idyllic weekend in Betty’s house in Mombasa. Shane tried windsailing and succeeded without too much pain. Staci joined him. Arlon and his dear friend, Tigger Tigeres were with them. Tigger and Arlon chased Staci and Shane on wave runners. Betty stayed on the patio and read a book. She had given up on mastering the intricacies of water sports. Shane didn’t really care or expect her to. He was a live and let live sort who believed in doing what you could and forgetting about what you couldn’t. She had wonderful meals prepared for them, with the help of Babs, when they arrived home ravenous from their strenuous outings. On an early Saturday evening when the children were being entertained in Arlon’s game filled quarters, Shane and Betty took one of those long showers that were more sexual than hygienic. They got out and toweled each other dry. Going to the kitchen they made drinks and took them to the patio. The sun was sinking ever lower in a blood red sphere over the ocean. The swallows flew about the yard. The palm trees rustled in a slight breeze. She sat by Shane on a chaise lounge. He pulled her close.

“Fifi, I hope you know how much I love you.”

“I do, darling but never stop telling me.”

“I never will.”