Alexandra gave a dinner party jam packed with sophisticated English colonial descendants.  They were those who made up the clique that she had run with in her days of growing up in a privileged Kenya.  It was the type of party that usually leaves out those who aren't from a great colonial family in the glory days of Kenya's colonization – omitting the current riff raff.  At least, that’s how their descendants think of things.  Alexandra invited Shane, telling him of the particularly snotty and snobbish slant of the party goers.  He wanted to be there and came with two of his Masai guards.  No one could doubt the magnificence of our lion president.  

            The room was as quiet as a tomb when Shane entered the party flanked by his striking guards.  It took place in Alexandra’s sophisticated Nairobi home in the Karen district.  She went to him quickly.  From the time he entered the room there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Shane and Alexandra were honed in on each other.  Whether it was one of those passions that lasts or other than that was not noted by the onlookers.  Only their gaze when they first spotted each other in the crowded room was noticed and translated by the jaded lot.  The party goers nodded wisely to each other as the lovers went to the veranda.   

            They sat on her veranda after the last straggler had left the party with cries of encouragement for the newly bonded lovers.  Shane had, in spite of his real role as president of Kenya, wanted to win over Alexandra’s friends.  He knew that the animals and indigenous peoples of Kenya were just fodder for that crowd in the past and for many – still were.  Of course, a lion has always held sway over most groups.  The sheer power of the lion and the mystical qualities that they seem to embody still hold command over man unless he is heavily armed.  Therefore, Shane was ahead of the game when he stepped into Alexandra’s parlor.  He was not only a lion, that most powerful and magnificent of animals – he was the governing president of Kenya.  It also helped that his threads were the most stylish and expensive.  When he began to make his way among the group, they were amazed at his intellect, warmth and personal charm.  All had seen him on television and read the word in newspapers but still they had not seen him in the flesh with all of his allure available to a social occasion.

“They were enthralled, Shane,” said Alexandra, handing him a cognac.

“No, they weren’t, Alex, they were simply held at bay,” he answered, pulling her down beside him.

“No, it wasn’t just that, Shane.  I know this crowd.  I grew up with them.  Most of their fathers and grandfathers were lion hunters.  They were enchanted by you.”

“And what if I married you?  Would they still be enchanted?”

“Well, that’s not in the offing so why fret,” she said, getting up to bring the bottle of cognac to where he sat and refreshing his drink. 

He was lulled and didn’t take the challenge although he realized that she was like no one he had ever known and these circumstances had never been present in his life in totality.  He had Johanna but hers was not the challenge or the same situation as Alexandra Delamere whose great grandfather had almost run Kenya in colonial times. 

            They made love lazily and sensually until the sun rose through the trees casting light into Alexandra’s bedroom.  She raised her lean form off the bed and padded to the kitchen to make coffee.  He followed and drew her back, unable to get enough of the body that now so reminded him of Catherine’s – only minus the fur. 

             The 10th Kenya International Trade Exhibition opens in July but before this, Shane was invited to South Africa for the celebration of Nelson Mandela’s 89^th birthday.  He had decided to go alone with only Mildred and Ralph Lyon on Simba One.  The night before he left was a stormy one and he slept badly.  Johanna was feeling sick and pouting.  She knew full well she only had about a quarter of the frenetic lion’s attention, if that much.  He had told her that he didn’t want her going about much since she was still at the end of the very sensitive first trimester of her pregnancy. 

            He woke suddenly and listened as Johanna breathed quietly at his side.  He got up and got his cell phone from his dresser, taking it to the library. 

“Hello,” she answered with that husky voice that turned his insides to jelly.   

“Alex, I’m going to South Africa for Mandela’s birthday bash, will you go with me?”

“I’ve always admired him.  Of course I’ll go.”

             One of Shane’s wedding gifts to his daughter and new son-in-law had been the home in Mombasa that he had bought after Catherine’s death and rented when he married Betty.  Staci still enjoyed the water sports she had learned as a cub.  She invited her first cousin, Leah Simba and her lover Trevor Tau for a weekend.  Leah and Staci indulged in water games while Juma and his colleague Trevor drank beer on the veranda. 

Leah Simba and her first cousin, Staci Simba Mnyama enjoy a day on the beach in Mombasa...

             With a check from the first major sales of his blockbusting book, Jack Tarzan bought Lachlan’s beach home in Mombasa.  Lachlan and I had finally decided that we were firmly enough bonded to share the same one.  We chose mine which was the more elaborate.  We found Jack to be a pleasant and caring neighbor.  We had met him briefly in Tanzania.  Now he and Lachlan enjoyed fishing together.  I would join them often.  Jack bought a dhow similar to the one he had in Tanzania.  Between Lachlan and Jack, our homes were supplied with freezers full of fish.  Jack would bring the elderly Patsy with him.  Lachlan enjoyed listening to the old woman’s tales of her life.  Lachlan and I agreed that Jack and his surrogate mother were pleasant additions to our social circle. 

Lachlan with his new friend and fishing buddy, Jack Tarzan in Mombasa....

            One weekend, Betty came with Tarzan and Patsy to his house next door to ours.  We had a splendid weekend in which we drank heartily, grilled fish and chatted late into the night.

“That’s the chap for Betty if she only knew it,” commented Lachlan after we had left a pleasant dinner around Jack’s table.  

“Do you think so, really?” I asked. 

“I think he would be perfect.  He’s not the type to be jerked around by Betty and he would be too loyal to walk off and screw around like Shane and Ashley did.  He would simply show her how to live. She would accept it from him too because he is so easy in his own skin.  We shrinks don’t see many of those, Maury.  I've met two in my life, you and Jack.”

             Joshua Simba, Betty’s second to the eldest son, was now about to enter college.  He was a voracious reader and a brain like his father.  Being studious, he had skipped two grades.  He was beginning to enjoy the company of his mother as she did his.  The topsy turvy household of his father, Sam, and his live in lover Tawny Tigeres was noisy and filled with cubs of all ages.  Joshua had spent the week before his college entrance exams studying at Betty’s home on Leoparde Drive.  He had made excellent grades insuring him a place in the English university attended by his half-brother, Arlon Lyon.   Sam made the proper application for his son to attend this school.  He was set to go in a few months time.  Meanwhile, he asked Sam and Tawny  if they would feel insulted by his moving to Betty’s quieter home where he could cram for studies he knew he would have his first year in university.  Sam, long over his snit with Betty, agreed heartily.  Joshua had been given his first automobile by Sam.  He packed the SUV with the things he needed and moved into his mother’s home.  There he made a happy participant in the group consisting of Betty, his cousin/half-brother Solly Simba and Betty’s great pal, Wilda Wildebeest.  He loved to talk with Jack Tarzan when he arrived and brought steaks or fish then stay to eat with them.  Jack always brought oat cake for Wilda since she was a herbivore. 

One of Betty's six lion sons, Joshua Simba (by Sam Simba) ready to attend the university...

 “Fifi, do you want the furnishings in the bush house too?” asked Shane over the phone one day before leaving for South Africa and Mandela’s soiree.

“Shane, you didn’t have to give me the bush house,” she answered sadly.  “I only asked for joint custody of the cubs.”

“Betty, I want you to have the bush house too.  You deserve something from all of this.”

“I was married to you for a while and got three sons….that's quite a reward in itself,” she said and choked up.

“Betty, can I see you sometime?”

“No, it would be too painful right now.”

“You’re the one who filed, remember?”

“You have too many loves now, Shane.  There’s hardly any breathing space in your harem.”

“I’ll always love you, Fifi.”

She rang off in tears.  Those words – so final – hurt the most of all. 

            She realized after she had hung up that she didn’t answer his original question.  A week later when she went to see the bush house, most of the furnishings were still there although the caretaker told her that Shane had given him the key for Betty.  She went through the rooms, one by one.  Memories assaulted her.  She would have to sell this house.  She couldn’t stand the recollections.  She even found a half used bottle of his Dolce & Gabbana cologne and sprayed a bit into the air.  She fled from the house in tears at all the memories within those walls.  The following week it was listed by Jackal Realty. 

             The flight to South Africa was a rollicking one.  Alexandra Delamere kept former President Ralph Lyon in stitches at her tales handed down from her colonial ancestors.  Even Mildred warmed to the charming, lanky young woman.  Shane sat back in total contentment and watched his new love hold sway over everyone in his group that was on the way to Mandela’s birthday celebration. 

Ralph Lyon is charmed by Alexandra at a party in Johannesburg...

            The plane landed in Johannesburg and disgorged all.  The presidential party was taken by limousine to join the other dignitaries in their hotel - the Palazzo Montecasino.  There, will be former presidents Bill Clinton and Jimmy Carter.  Kofi Annan is attending the lustrous affair pulled together by entrepreneur, Richard Branson and Peter Gabriel.  

Shane with his dear friend and mentor, Nelson Mandela.....

             “Do you animals have a favorite human like we humans have a favorite animal?” teased Alexandra, running long fingers over the bullet scars on Shane’s chest.  “It’s just a frivolous question but I’m thinking yours would be the one you’re sleeping with at the moment.”

“And your favored animal is?” he asked, rolling on his side. 

They were on the comfortable bed in their hotel suite having spent a morning of gatherings, cocktail luncheon and good conversation.  Mandela had been intrigued with Alexandra’s knowledge of South African history. 

“Mine is the cheetah.”

“Not the lion?”

“I always thought the lion was on the ostentatious side with that overstated mane and repressed violence - simply too much of a good thing.”

She tickled his lips with long lacquered nails and studied his face with her light vibrant eyes. 

“We animals have favorite animals of our own,” he told her, sliding his paw across her naked breasts. 

“You didn’t answer my question about your favorite human,” she whispered.

“Do I really have to….isn’t it obvious?” he said, moving over her. .

“We’ll save this discussion for later.  You’re still not off the hook.”

             Betty decided with so much money and needing a new lease on life, she would turn herself over to the talented machinations of cosmetic surgeon; Dr. Todd Tigeres for some nips and tucks.  She entered the back door of the doctor’s new clinic in the savanna.  He had become so adept at cosmetic restructuring that he had animals and humans flocking to him.  He had caused overcrowding for the Exotic Animal Clinic and so built his own.  That was alright with his patients.  They required more privacy at any rate.  My mother is so devoted to Dr. Todd that she now resembles a fitted sheet whose corners must be greatly stressed.  My Lachlan, having seen her recently when we were invited for tea, had commented that ‘she will be unable to move any part of her face if she succumbs to one more procedure’.