Maurice & Friends

Mildred and Ralph Lyon were returned from a six country excursion to raise money for the Clinton fund for AIDS in Africa. They came to their offices at the State House. Mildred has a small one off of Ralph’s suite. I was happy to see my dear friends. Mildred went down stairs to work with Betty and Bernice Bear. I sat with Ralph and chatted.

“You seem to have bowed out of affairs of state, Ralph.”

“That young lion down the hall doesn’t need me looking over his shoulder. He is doing a splendid job as I knew he would.”

“He certainly is,” I had to agree. “We are working well together.”

I returned to my own office adjoining Shane’s in time to see Carolyn Cape Buffalo enter his. She had on one of her signature hats. I took a seat near Shane’s desk and oversaw the interview.

“President Simba,” bellowed Carolyn “Your brother, Judge Simba, is delaying the herd’s court case against the lions of Kenya for their murderous habits all these years and killing so many of us.”

“Carolyn, you are too smart a female to completely disregard the progress in this country. You are living in the past when you should step into the present and look to the future,” roared Shane. “We have a new order and age of kill-free tolerance and you want to fiddle in the past.”

With Ralph Lyon, the new age in Kenya was a revelation, engendered on his watch as president. He treated it as a fluke. To Shane Simba it was a passion and treated with deference and awe. I couldn’t be sure but I suspected it took on almost religious aspects with our new president. I noticed he broke his habit and called Carolyn by her first name. I chalked that up to the fact that Cape buffalo is a mouthful.

“Well, President Simba, what would you have me do?”

“You carry weight among the hoof stock. You are a local heroine of sorts. You could be a great influence in local politics. I suggest that instead of spinning your wheels on a futile and wasteful court case, you run for district council in the Mara. We are going full steam ahead into a future that has never been seen in Africa or among animals and humans. Use your talents and brain, Carolyn. You could be such an asset.”

I could see Carolyn Cape Buffalo perceptibly soften her stance. She gazed at Shane for a few minutes before she spoke.

“Why, President Simba, do you really think I should run for office? There is an election coming soon.”

“I most certainly do, Carolyn. You would be a mover and a shaker.”

“Thank you for the suggestion. I will look into it.”

Carolyn Cape Buffalo, head heifer of a great herd and ex-wife of Cappie, did something I have never witnessed her doing before this day. She walked out in a very pleasant manner. The next day we heard from Judge Sefu Simba that she had dropped her case against the lions of Kenya. Two days later a youngish male buffalo from her herd arrived with an oat cake of elaborate proportions, labeled for the president.

Carolyn Cape Buffalo....

Wilda Wildebeest, the long time State House anchor and correspondent for WMM-TV sat in the office of her boss, Irving Impala. She wanted a change. With Ralph Lyon no longer in office and away most of the time, Wilda wanted to be reassigned. Irving pondered the matter. Caroline Cheetah entered the office, desirous of a chat about her cooking show. He had her take a seat while he spoke with Wilda.

“Wilda, I need a correspondent to accompany Ralph and Mildred when they travel for the AIDS issue. Would you care to do that and I can assign someone else to the State House?”

Caroline’s ears perked and twitched but no one caught it.

“That will be wonderful, Irving, and it will give me some free time to be with my herd, children and grandkids.”

Wilda left, happy with her reassignment. Caroline leaned forward in her chair.

“Irving, I want that State House anchor spot or else I will quit the cooking show and you know the extent of its popularity and ratings.”

“Are you attempting a squeeze on me, Caroline?” asked Irving.

“Yes, quite frankly, I am. I can do the cooking show, taping three at a toss and have plenty of time to cover the State House.”

Irving was quiet for some time.

“My cook book just came out and is selling like hot cakes. You need my show,” coaxed Caroline.

“You’ll have no time for your son, Caroline.”

“I am hiring a nanny. I can juggle everything, Irving – not to worry.”

“All right, we’ll give it a try. But if you vex Shane Simba, I will pull you off the job, be warned.”

“Thanks a million, Irving. I will do you proud,” giggled Caroline.

Caroline took off after taping her show and headed for Chanel, owned by Gina Genet Lyon. Her husband, Lewis, had built a new building near his mall to house his wife’s growing business. There, Caroline purchased new garments and perfumes. She went to the boutique owned by Dodi Dik Dik Lyon and purchased four pair of Manolo Blahnik’s spike heeled strap sandals. She was ready for business and loaded for bear. She sang all the way home.

Tawny Tigeres had become intrigued with the introverted Sam Simba, who was now head of Simba Brothers. Sam went about his business quietly kicking ass in court. He exhibited none of the self consciousness about her height that had plagued Sloane. He seemed contented and enthralled with the machinations of law. She was dying to enliven him. She made a point to brush her ample tits against him whenever they worked in the files together. If he noticed, he pretended otherwise. Tawny began to wear elegant but sexy tops revealing her amazing cleavage. She hadn’t pinched his butt anymore but always brushed past him with little distance between them. She tried different perfumes with no visible results. She decided to quiz Sloane about his half-brother. One night after an invigorating roll in the hay at his house, they law smoking their post coital cigarettes.

“Tell me something about Sam. He seems to be very quiet and introspective, Sloane.”

“He is exactly that, Tawny. Why the interest?”

“Just thought I’d get a bead on my new boss, sweetie. He is so different from you.”

“Sam is said, by the pride, to be an all consuming family guy. I think he must want a lot of offspring. His new wife just gave him four sons and now she’s pregnant with another litter.”

“What species is she?”

“A lioness but Sam’s ex-wife is married now to Shane,” laughed Sloane. “He has two lion sons by her.”

“I think Mom has told me something of that situation. That must have been sticky.”

“Well, the Simba brothers seem to have a talent for that sort of thing. My ex-wife, Caitlin, is pregnant by my brother, Steven.”

“What make Sam tick?” she asked, stubbing her cigarette in the ashtray between them.

“No one has ever quite known what makes Sam Simba tick. Your immediate assignment, if you choose to take it, is making my ass tick,” he said, rolling on top and mounting her once more. She threw her arms around his waist and rolled him under her, taking the dominant position. He groaned.

Caroline slowly dressed for her first day at the State House. She put on a new M. Missoni dress with Manolo Blahnik spiked heel boots. Her last effort was a liberal spray of Chanel perfume on her fur and clothes. She kissed her son goodbye, gave the nanny instructions for the day and headed for the State House.

Caroline in her State House anchor garb the first day.....

Alexander Simba had not had the best of years. Twice separated from his wife and ignored by Shane to take over Simba Brothers, he had been glad to see the old one end. He and Lucy had three cubs now and Lucy was back to her usually chirpy self. This didn’t preclude the fact that as the youngest female offspring of a very wealthy family, she was spoiled rotten. She had made noises about moving near her great grandmother, Lucretia Leoparde, on the estates near the Mara River. Alexander had blown that notion to smithereens when he stated that he didn’t want to drive the distance to his law office, especially in the rainy season. He had added on to the one on Lyon Avenue so it would encompass their brood and selves in the ultimate comfort. Lucy had them on a treadmill of child related projects. They had three growing cubs. James Alexander, known as Jimmy, their eldest, was now in school. The smaller cubs were rife with play dates. One Saturday as Alexander prepared to work in his garden which was a source of major satisfaction to him, Lucy beckoned.

“Alex, you have to go with me to take the little cubs to a play date at Maude and Harold Hyena’s. Their grandkids will be there.”

“Lucy, you take them. And since when did lion cubs have play dates with hyena whelp?” he asked, wiping the sweat from his brow for the sun was hot.

“Alex, you should be ashamed. This is a new day in Kenya. Maude and Harold have been good neighbors to us. Get showered, we need to leave in an hour.”

Alexander tossed his pruning shears to the ground with such force they stuck and stood upright. He followed his wife in the house.

“Lucy, I am not going to go there with you. I have two days off a week. I am working in the yard today.”

“All you care about are your fucking flowers, Alex,” she raged.

“Well, they are about the only things that really care for me,” he growled.

“Oh stop feeling so sorry for yourself, Alex. Ever since Shane fucked you over at Simba Brothers, you’ve been whining your ass off.”

It was an instant reaction, born of frustration. He swung his arm back and landed a blow across her face. She went down.

“I’m so sorry, Lucy,” he said, running to lift her.

She kicked at him, getting quickly to her feet.

“I hate you,” she screamed.

Alexander in his rose garden......

Shane Simba spotted Caroline as he emerged from his office her first day. He stopped dead in his tracks.

“What do you need, Caroline?” he asked, his eyes fierce.

“I am the new replacement for Wilda. Like it or not, I am now the State House anchor.”

Sloane came down the steps from his office and stood next to Caroline.

“Caroline, if you cause any shit around here, I will call Irving Impala and make damn sure you never work in Kenya again,” snarled Shane, turning on his heels and walking down the hall.

“Whew, that guy takes exception to you, Caroline. I think you need to keep a low profile. I believe he means it,” said Sloane.

“Oh fuck him,” growled Caroline.

“I believe you did and that’s the reason for his hatred. Just keep your nose clean.”

“Don’t worry about that, Sloane. I know what I’m about.”

Shane had already had a rough day when he arrived at his house ready for the cocktail hour. He was not at all pleased that Irving Impala had the cheek to place Caroline in Wilda’s anchor spot. He was fuming. Not seeing his wife in the family room he went to their bedroom. There she was packing a bag.

“What’s that for, Fifi? Are we going somewhere?”

“I’m just doing some last minute packing for my AIDS trip to Tsavo with the group. We leave Sunday and I want to finish so we can go to the bush house tonight.”

“May I ask who ‘the group’ consists of, Betty?”

“You know, darling, the usual - Mildred, Lisa and Dr. Mnyama.”

“Dr. Mnyama, being the key figure?”

“Shane, you’re being unreasonable. You know this is the thing I’ve set for myself as my project as first lady. I need this outlet, Shane.”

“For what do you need it, Betty? You’ve done a great deal already for AIDS. What happened to your school of journalism project? You blow out of here every other week with your AIDS crowd. What am I missing here?”

“Are you jealous, Shane? Do you think I’m going to have an affair with Juma? Are you projecting your adulterous inclinations on me?”

He was as quick as lightening as he grabbed her arm and held it hard.

“Let’s not get all pious, Betty. Don’t set yourself up as the saintly wife. Remember Sam? You fucked me while you were married to him.”

“Don’t you dare throw that in my face! You know how I feel about you. I would never be unfaithful to you. You are my dream come true, Shane.”

She jerked her arm free and sat heavily on the bed, her face in her hands.

“I’m sorry, Fifi. I just don’t want you to go on this trip. I want some time with you.”

“I’ve promised Lisa and Mildred, Shane.”

“Un-promise them, then -I want you with me.”

Alexander Simba was quite drunk and in the Watering Hole Pub on the evening of his fight with his wife, Lucy. He hadn’t been in sometime, adhering to the life of a family male. He was standing at the bar ordering an additional Scotch when a presence towered over him and he stared directly at the greatest set of mammary glands he had ever seen. He looked up into the face of a green eyed tigress with amusement written all over.

“You’re new here,” she purred loudly.

“No, I think it’s you that is new. I used to come here all the time and never saw you.”

“What stopped you?” she laughed. “Did you go on the wagon or something?”

“No, marriage and three children will put a big dent in your pub life.”

“Awe,” she giggled. “Poor you, what happened to the family situation? Are you divorced?”

“Nope, just pissed.”

You got a name?”

“Alexander Simba.”

“Oh, one of those all powerful Simbas,are you?”

“Uh huh.”

“Want to go to my new house? I just moved in. I have Scotch.”

“Sure,” answered Alexander, sticking an invasive paw inside her low cut blouse and exploring one of the gargantuan boobs.

“Let’s go then. I’ll drive. You’re drunk,” she said.

“You’re the boss, lead on.”