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The adult lion grinned humorlessly. “You have a lot of worries if you ask me. Or maybe just one big one. Me.”
“We were just leaving.”
“I’d bet my next kill on it.” As he spoke, the lion flattened his ears and swept towards Simba in a deadly rush, fangs bared fully, the light gleaming off them in a promise of death. Simba gave a roar of surprise and jerked away, scrabbling for purchase as he tried to turn and flee. The monarch’s paw whipped around and struck the young lion, his claws scoring crimson furrows in Simba’s haunch. Simba cried out in pain and fear, the lion’s roars thundering in his ears as he sprinted away towards the safety of the jungle. He glanced back and saw the lion still pursuing, the sight goading him to run even faster.
Finally he stopped, unable to run any longer, his sides burning with pain as his breath whooped in and out in great tides of air. He turned slowly, expecting to see the great brute bearing down on him for the kill.
Instead, he saw only empty jungle, a very relieved warthog, and an indignant meerkat who sat astride Pumbaa’s head, glaring at him.
Timon asked, “Why did you run away like that?? That dope was a softie; you coulda thrashed him easy!”
Simba licked the bleeding claw marks on his injured haunch and wondered at that. “Once a very wise lion told me he was only brave when he HAD to be. You don't go asking for trouble.”
“Simba, I don't think you should go back there for awhile.”
The young lion grinned shakily at Pumbaa. “Good idea.”
The rest of the afternoon passed blissfully uneventful, and the trio even managed to scare up enough insects that evening to go to bed relatively full. But Simba lay awake long after the others had passed into sleep, his head on his paws as he thought about that beautiful sky above, and the wonderful feeling of space around him, unobstructed by vines and trees. As his eyes began to close, he wondered idly what Nala was doing right now, and if she was as pretty as Sasha had been, her tawny face framed by the waving stalks of the grasslands.
CHAPTER 56: SIGN OF POWER
CHAPTER 57: SPOTTING THE LEOPARD
CHAPTER 58: CATS LIKE US
CHAPTER 59: TO SLEEP, PERCHANCE TO DREAM
CHAPTER 60: PIPKAH THE GREAT
CHAPTER 61: FACING FACTS
Simba was disturbed by some of the feelings his young adulthood gave him. Hakuna Matata was stretching thin. He wanted a mate, he wanted meat, he wanted a territory, he wanted absolution. In short, he felt trapped, with little hope of ever achieving any of the success predicted by Gur’bruk and Kambra.
Sefu the secretary bird was unconventional, but his advice when given was not taken lightly. And it was to Sefu that he looked for help.
Of course, Sefu was not easily found. Unlike his old friends on Pride Rock, there was no way of knowing when and were the Secretary Bird would show up. Despondent, Simba paused one morning while Timon and Pumbaa continued on to the water hole to get a drink and bowed his head.
“Please, Aiheu, help me! I may not pray every night like I should, and I may be just a fugitive, but Mom said you were merciful. Please give me a second chance, God. Please show me the way--I’m so lost!”
Just when Simba was about to lose his faith in the power of prayer, Sefu surprised them at the watering hole.
“Sefu! I’m so glad to see you!”
“Hey, cat! Likewise!”
While Pumbaa wallowed in the shallows and Timon gargled noisily as he drank, Simba managed to corner Sefu for a moment and try to put into words what was only a feeling of emptiness, a dread of dying alone and forgotten, a creeping despair that eroded him like fungi on a fallen log.
“Hey, been there, done that.” Sefu looked at him appraisingly. “Some of us little folks can fit into a little hole somewhere and hide ourselves from the world. Some of us can’t.”
“Yeah.”
“I heard through the grapevine that you tried to take meat from the local tribesmen. I guess you found out they have a lot of sense for creatures without fur or feathers.”
Simba uttered a short laugh. “No darned kidding.”
“Well they have this custom of making shapes of geese out of pitch covered straw. From a distance, they look real. They are set out in the lake and when the real geese see them, they think its safe and light. Then they get whacked.”
“Is there a moral to this story?”
“No!” Sefu said. “I just wanted you to know that you’re an impostor. You’re not a jungle bum. Hakuna Matata does not fit you. You were meant to be marsh grass, and no matter how much they weave you or tar you, you can't be a goose unless you were born a goose. Fish gotta swim, birds gotta fly--well, at least most of them do--and lions gotta roar. You don't belong here. You'll NEVER belong here. You belong out there, free and unencumbered. As free as the wind blows. As free as the grass grows. Born free to follow your heart." He threw back his wing, held up his head and burst out with "BORN FREE! AS FREE AS THE WIND BLOWS...."
Timon grabbed his beak shut. "Please, don't sing it!" He turned back to Simba. “Listen, kid! It does no good bringing up a lot of false hopes and stirring up a lot of pain. Hakuna Matata is the only way. You gotta be like Pumbaa here--he’s got it all figured out.”
But Pumbaa was looking at Sefu and Simba wistfully. He was anything but sure about Timon’s logic. He felt sorry for Simba.
“I was afraid this would happen someday,” Pumbaa said. “But when the time comes, I’ll let go. Simba, we’re all born into this world with a destiny. Some of us might have it easier than others, but you can’t escape your destiny.”
“What is my destiny?” Simba asked.
“That is something that you must figure out for yourself, my son. That’s between you and God. And whatever it is, I’ll be there to help you fulfill it.”
Timon looked at Pumbaa disbelievingly. But the warthog had a look of wisdom and nobility shining in his eyes that stunned him. He could not find the nerve to contradict him, and looked away, sighing. “Yeah, IF.”
CHAPTER 62: THE LEAP OF FAITH
CHAPTER 63: THE MEETING
“We were just leaving.”
“I’d bet my next kill on it.” As he spoke, the lion flattened his ears and swept towards Simba in a deadly rush, fangs bared fully, the light gleaming off them in a promise of death. Simba gave a roar of surprise and jerked away, scrabbling for purchase as he tried to turn and flee. The monarch’s paw whipped around and struck the young lion, his claws scoring crimson furrows in Simba’s haunch. Simba cried out in pain and fear, the lion’s roars thundering in his ears as he sprinted away towards the safety of the jungle. He glanced back and saw the lion still pursuing, the sight goading him to run even faster.
Finally he stopped, unable to run any longer, his sides burning with pain as his breath whooped in and out in great tides of air. He turned slowly, expecting to see the great brute bearing down on him for the kill.
Instead, he saw only empty jungle, a very relieved warthog, and an indignant meerkat who sat astride Pumbaa’s head, glaring at him.
Timon asked, “Why did you run away like that?? That dope was a softie; you coulda thrashed him easy!”
Simba licked the bleeding claw marks on his injured haunch and wondered at that. “Once a very wise lion told me he was only brave when he HAD to be. You don't go asking for trouble.”
“Simba, I don't think you should go back there for awhile.”
The young lion grinned shakily at Pumbaa. “Good idea.”
The rest of the afternoon passed blissfully uneventful, and the trio even managed to scare up enough insects that evening to go to bed relatively full. But Simba lay awake long after the others had passed into sleep, his head on his paws as he thought about that beautiful sky above, and the wonderful feeling of space around him, unobstructed by vines and trees. As his eyes began to close, he wondered idly what Nala was doing right now, and if she was as pretty as Sasha had been, her tawny face framed by the waving stalks of the grasslands.
CHAPTER 56: SIGN OF POWER
Nearby, Timon lay enraptured in dreams of a different sort.
“The rhinoceros beetle, my dear, IF you please.” Timon grinned, as he lay back, literally in the lap of luxury. His head was pillowed on the legs of a meerkat female who sat cross legged, tickling the fur on the top of his head. Giggling, she nodded, and picked the struggling insect from a pile of bugs that lay nearby, popping into his mouth delicately. “There you go.”
He chewed, savoring the delightful crunch. “Thanks, babe.”
“Of course.” She smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but smile back, admiring the beautiful white fur that enveloped her whole body. “You’re kinda cute, you know that?”
“You too.” Bending over, she rubbed her nose against his, making him chuckle with laughter. “You’re really special, you know that?” He blinked. “What makes you say that?”
“The way you and your friend took care of that lion cub.”
“Oh, Simba?” Timon shrugged. “Least we could do. You know, when we first found him, he was almost dead. We saved his life!”
She nodded. “I know. that was very thoughtful of you.”
“We practically had to teach the kid everything; what to eat, where to sleep...” Timon sighed. “He’s gettin kinda big now though.”
She remained silent, stroking his cheek quietly, waiting for him to continue.
Finally, he did. “He’s gettin kinda big, all right.” Timon examined his hands uncomfortably. “Pretty soon he’s not gonna need us any more.”
She smiled and shook her head. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”
“Really?”
“Oh, there’s a few things that still have to be done.”
He looked at her strangely. “Like what?”
By way of answer, she leapt out from under him, sending his head to the ground with a dull thump. “YEOWCH!” He sat up rubbing his head, and was immediately flattened again as she tackled him, sending the two of them rolling through the grass until she finally pinned him to the ground with her weight, holding his shoulders tight with her hands. “You silly little fellow!”
“Whaddya tryin ta do, kill me--” he trailed off, entranced by her beautiful eyes, gleaming silver-blue as they stared into his own. “Pretty eyes.”
“Everyone says that.” She chuckled, then looked at him intently. “Your friend has reached a turning point in his life. He needs someone to walk with him across the bridge. Great things lie ahead for him, but there are forks in the path. You must help guide him along the way.” She reached down and played with the fur on his cheek, sending shivers down his spine. “You’ll do that for him, won’t you?”
"You betcha. What do I have to do?"
"First of all, he has grown his mane. You need to give him his mantlement. That's the leonine coming of age ceremony. You'll pray for him, stroke his mane, and pronounce him an adult. Then you will help him find his destiny. In his case that will involve some risk for you."
His focus on her wavered slightly. “Risk??"
She stroked him under his chin, riveting his attention on her again. "But you will be very brave and won't let me down. I know this for a fact."
He looked at her spellbound. "I will be very brave," he stammered.
“You will help him."
"I will help him."
"I knew I could count on you." She looked penetratingly into his eyes and drew very close. He could feel her soft breath on his face, enveloping him in the smell of wild honey. "Daima pendana," she whispered, kissing his cheek.
Timon jerked awake, sitting up and rubbing his eyes in the first gray light of dawn. Gingerly, he rubbed the back of his head and looked at where he had been lying, seeing the rock protruding from the ground.
“Stupid stone.” He rose, stretching and yawning with exaggeration, feeling the stretch and pull of his muscles as he stood. He was standing there, glancing about blearily, wondering where he might find a good bit of breakfast, when his eyes fell on Simba. He stood still for a long moment, then pattered over to the lion and yanked on his whiskers. “Up and at ‘em!”
“WHAAAA!!” Simba’s eyes bulged and he jerked back, his claws splaying involuntarily. “What the--”
“C’mon! Get up, ya bums! It’s daybreak already! We ain’t got much time.” Scampering over, Timon took a deep breath and nipped Pumbaa’s tail lightly, waking the warthog with a shriek and sending HIM running into Simba. Lion and warthog stood trembling at the tiny apparition which ranted at them.
“C’mon! We gotta get goin!”
“Where, Timon?”
“The waterfall, knucklehead! It’s the only place high enough!”
“For WHAT?!”
“Your mantlement, dummy!”
“My wha--” Simba froze. “Gods, you’re right.” He lowered his head. “But I know so little about it; my dad only told me a little about the ceremony.”
Timon glared at him. “Are you a lion?”
“Yeah.”
“You got a mane?”
“Well, yeah...”
“We can fake the rest. C’mon!” He smacked Simba’s rump and trotted off into the forest, grumbling.
Some time later, the three stood on the rocks that overlooked the falls, feeling the cool morning breeze caress their faces, carrying with it a damp spray of droplets from the falls. They sat silently, hearing the calling of the first birds in the clear air. Timon fidgeted nervously and glanced at Pumbaa, who was clearly just as nervous as he was. They glanced at Simba enviously; the lion sat quiescent, head bowed slightly and eyes closed.
Simba felt a preternatural calm as he sat, hearing the dull roar of the falls below him and the tremors that traveled back up through the rock, vibrating in the pads of his feet. Finally, he detected the first warm rays of light on his eyelids. Opening them, he looked to Timon and nodded slightly.
Timon cleared his throat, trembling with nervousness as he raised his voice. “Uhh, ahem! Let everybody that can hear me know that Simba is following his fathers.” He cringed, looking at Simba, who said nothing as he continued to look at the rising sun. “Look, he bears the sign!”
Silence reigned, and Pumbaa cleared his throat. Timon closed his eyes and hoped fervently that this next bit might go okay; Pumbaa had insisted on giving the ritual prayer. His eyes opened slowly as he heard the warthog’s words.
“I don't really know what to say to you, God. But you're smart enough to figure out what I mean. He was all alone in the desert, and we found him lying there, and jeez, if we hadn't found him, he would have died. But we did, and I don't think it's an accident that we came along when we did. You know? I mean what are the chances of that? Well, anyway, he's got this fuzz on his neck, and for lions that's supposed to be a big deal and all. It means our little cub is grown, and I guess what I'm trying to say is if he was my own son, I couldn't be any more proud of him than I am right now. Thanks for giving us a shot at this. I love him, and you make sure nothing bad happens to him, OK?"
He looked up to see the two of them looking at him wonderingly. "Was that all right?"
Simba nuzzled him. "Beautiful. You're a good friend, Pumbaa."
Timon nudged him. “It’s time. Go for it, kid.”
Simba nodded. He took a deep breath and roared, the sound shattering the stillness as it echoed across the rocks and canyons. The raucous sound of the birds below fighting for breakfast fell silent, and there was only the sound of the falling water.
“The rhinoceros beetle, my dear, IF you please.” Timon grinned, as he lay back, literally in the lap of luxury. His head was pillowed on the legs of a meerkat female who sat cross legged, tickling the fur on the top of his head. Giggling, she nodded, and picked the struggling insect from a pile of bugs that lay nearby, popping into his mouth delicately. “There you go.”
He chewed, savoring the delightful crunch. “Thanks, babe.”
“Of course.” She smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but smile back, admiring the beautiful white fur that enveloped her whole body. “You’re kinda cute, you know that?”
“You too.” Bending over, she rubbed her nose against his, making him chuckle with laughter. “You’re really special, you know that?” He blinked. “What makes you say that?”
“The way you and your friend took care of that lion cub.”
“Oh, Simba?” Timon shrugged. “Least we could do. You know, when we first found him, he was almost dead. We saved his life!”
She nodded. “I know. that was very thoughtful of you.”
“We practically had to teach the kid everything; what to eat, where to sleep...” Timon sighed. “He’s gettin kinda big now though.”
She remained silent, stroking his cheek quietly, waiting for him to continue.
Finally, he did. “He’s gettin kinda big, all right.” Timon examined his hands uncomfortably. “Pretty soon he’s not gonna need us any more.”
She smiled and shook her head. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”
“Really?”
“Oh, there’s a few things that still have to be done.”
He looked at her strangely. “Like what?”
By way of answer, she leapt out from under him, sending his head to the ground with a dull thump. “YEOWCH!” He sat up rubbing his head, and was immediately flattened again as she tackled him, sending the two of them rolling through the grass until she finally pinned him to the ground with her weight, holding his shoulders tight with her hands. “You silly little fellow!”
“Whaddya tryin ta do, kill me--” he trailed off, entranced by her beautiful eyes, gleaming silver-blue as they stared into his own. “Pretty eyes.”
“Everyone says that.” She chuckled, then looked at him intently. “Your friend has reached a turning point in his life. He needs someone to walk with him across the bridge. Great things lie ahead for him, but there are forks in the path. You must help guide him along the way.” She reached down and played with the fur on his cheek, sending shivers down his spine. “You’ll do that for him, won’t you?”
"You betcha. What do I have to do?"
"First of all, he has grown his mane. You need to give him his mantlement. That's the leonine coming of age ceremony. You'll pray for him, stroke his mane, and pronounce him an adult. Then you will help him find his destiny. In his case that will involve some risk for you."
His focus on her wavered slightly. “Risk??"
She stroked him under his chin, riveting his attention on her again. "But you will be very brave and won't let me down. I know this for a fact."
He looked at her spellbound. "I will be very brave," he stammered.
“You will help him."
"I will help him."
"I knew I could count on you." She looked penetratingly into his eyes and drew very close. He could feel her soft breath on his face, enveloping him in the smell of wild honey. "Daima pendana," she whispered, kissing his cheek.
Timon jerked awake, sitting up and rubbing his eyes in the first gray light of dawn. Gingerly, he rubbed the back of his head and looked at where he had been lying, seeing the rock protruding from the ground.
“Stupid stone.” He rose, stretching and yawning with exaggeration, feeling the stretch and pull of his muscles as he stood. He was standing there, glancing about blearily, wondering where he might find a good bit of breakfast, when his eyes fell on Simba. He stood still for a long moment, then pattered over to the lion and yanked on his whiskers. “Up and at ‘em!”
“WHAAAA!!” Simba’s eyes bulged and he jerked back, his claws splaying involuntarily. “What the--”
“C’mon! Get up, ya bums! It’s daybreak already! We ain’t got much time.” Scampering over, Timon took a deep breath and nipped Pumbaa’s tail lightly, waking the warthog with a shriek and sending HIM running into Simba. Lion and warthog stood trembling at the tiny apparition which ranted at them.
“C’mon! We gotta get goin!”
“Where, Timon?”
“The waterfall, knucklehead! It’s the only place high enough!”
“For WHAT?!”
“Your mantlement, dummy!”
“My wha--” Simba froze. “Gods, you’re right.” He lowered his head. “But I know so little about it; my dad only told me a little about the ceremony.”
Timon glared at him. “Are you a lion?”
“Yeah.”
“You got a mane?”
“Well, yeah...”
“We can fake the rest. C’mon!” He smacked Simba’s rump and trotted off into the forest, grumbling.
Some time later, the three stood on the rocks that overlooked the falls, feeling the cool morning breeze caress their faces, carrying with it a damp spray of droplets from the falls. They sat silently, hearing the calling of the first birds in the clear air. Timon fidgeted nervously and glanced at Pumbaa, who was clearly just as nervous as he was. They glanced at Simba enviously; the lion sat quiescent, head bowed slightly and eyes closed.
Simba felt a preternatural calm as he sat, hearing the dull roar of the falls below him and the tremors that traveled back up through the rock, vibrating in the pads of his feet. Finally, he detected the first warm rays of light on his eyelids. Opening them, he looked to Timon and nodded slightly.
Timon cleared his throat, trembling with nervousness as he raised his voice. “Uhh, ahem! Let everybody that can hear me know that Simba is following his fathers.” He cringed, looking at Simba, who said nothing as he continued to look at the rising sun. “Look, he bears the sign!”
Silence reigned, and Pumbaa cleared his throat. Timon closed his eyes and hoped fervently that this next bit might go okay; Pumbaa had insisted on giving the ritual prayer. His eyes opened slowly as he heard the warthog’s words.
“I don't really know what to say to you, God. But you're smart enough to figure out what I mean. He was all alone in the desert, and we found him lying there, and jeez, if we hadn't found him, he would have died. But we did, and I don't think it's an accident that we came along when we did. You know? I mean what are the chances of that? Well, anyway, he's got this fuzz on his neck, and for lions that's supposed to be a big deal and all. It means our little cub is grown, and I guess what I'm trying to say is if he was my own son, I couldn't be any more proud of him than I am right now. Thanks for giving us a shot at this. I love him, and you make sure nothing bad happens to him, OK?"
He looked up to see the two of them looking at him wonderingly. "Was that all right?"
Simba nuzzled him. "Beautiful. You're a good friend, Pumbaa."
Timon nudged him. “It’s time. Go for it, kid.”
Simba nodded. He took a deep breath and roared, the sound shattering the stillness as it echoed across the rocks and canyons. The raucous sound of the birds below fighting for breakfast fell silent, and there was only the sound of the falling water.
CHAPTER 57: SPOTTING THE LEOPARD
Simba was walking restlessly along a well worn path through the jungle, his feet making no sound as they padded along the trail. He paused, glancing down at the far end where it ended, the trees beginning to thin out at the limit of his vision. A slight smile rose as he set about carefully marking the unseen boundary between the savannah and the forest. Grouchy old booger, he thought. Come in HERE and I’LL show you a thing or two. He longed to trot down to the end of the path and roll under that delightful sky once again, but dared not; he was still not fully grown, and he was well aware of the difference between boldness and foolishness.
As he turned to leave, the sharp crack of a tree limb above reached him, and he ducked sidewise, expecting to see the colorful splash of a rotten fruit strike near him. Stupid monkeys, he thought irritably. He was smart enough not to look straight up. There had been times before when he had caught a ripe fruit right in the face.
Instead of a fruit, however, an antelope fell out of the tree and plopped on the ground right in front of him. As he stared, shocked, a voice floated down from above.
“Damn! Of all the times to drop something!”
It was a female voice, a melodious catlike voice but not a lioness. Moments later, a large leopardess came bounding down the trunk with the intensity of a vertical run. She pounced on the antelope and said, “Mine! Buzz off!”
Taken aback, Simba looked up in the tree and back at her. “You got that all the way up there?”
The leopardess glared at him. “What of it?”
“Well, I just thought....” He looked at her and at the antelope. “Did you have help?”
She half smiled. “No. I did it by myself. Haven’t you ever seen a leopard do that before?”
“I’ve never seen a leopard before.” He looked at her appraisingly. “Those spots are so--so neat!”
She purred. “I’ve seen you here before, and I’ve always wanted to ask. How did a lion like you get in a forest like this?”
“Long story,” Simba said with a shrug.
“You hang out with those two?”
Simba knew immediately whom she was referring to. “Well, uh, yeah. What of it?”
“Oh nothing. I just thought I’ve never seen you with another lion before. But there are a lot of strange things in this forest. Like that pair of hyenas.”
“Gur’bruk and Kambra?”
“You know them? They healed my shoulder once.”
“What do you know! They saved my life once.”
“Small world, isn’t it?” With a quick snatch of her powerful jaws, the antelope was on its way up the tree. In five or six bounds of her powerful legs, the prey was cached away in the branches.
“Whoa! I’d give anything to know how to do that!”
She came bounding down again. It was always disconcerting to Simba when she did that.
“Let me get this straight. You’re grown and you don’t know how to hunt?”
“Yeah.” Simba looked away.
“Didn’t your mother teach you anything?”
Simba looked at the ground. His ears and tail drooped. “She didn’t get a chance. My dad gave me a few pouncing lessons.”
“And?”
“He died when I was very little.”
“I’m sorry. So have you scavenged all this time?”
“No, ma’am. I’ve eaten bugs.”
“Bugs??”
“These guys helped me. I don’t know what I would have done without them.”
It brought out some of the motherly feelings in her. The corners of her mouth twitched. “I lost a cub once. I had a lot of things I wanted to tell her, and they’ve been bottled up inside me. Look, if you wait till I chow down, I’ll give you a couple of lessons, OK?”
“Neat!”
As he turned to leave, the sharp crack of a tree limb above reached him, and he ducked sidewise, expecting to see the colorful splash of a rotten fruit strike near him. Stupid monkeys, he thought irritably. He was smart enough not to look straight up. There had been times before when he had caught a ripe fruit right in the face.
Instead of a fruit, however, an antelope fell out of the tree and plopped on the ground right in front of him. As he stared, shocked, a voice floated down from above.
“Damn! Of all the times to drop something!”
It was a female voice, a melodious catlike voice but not a lioness. Moments later, a large leopardess came bounding down the trunk with the intensity of a vertical run. She pounced on the antelope and said, “Mine! Buzz off!”
Taken aback, Simba looked up in the tree and back at her. “You got that all the way up there?”
The leopardess glared at him. “What of it?”
“Well, I just thought....” He looked at her and at the antelope. “Did you have help?”
She half smiled. “No. I did it by myself. Haven’t you ever seen a leopard do that before?”
“I’ve never seen a leopard before.” He looked at her appraisingly. “Those spots are so--so neat!”
She purred. “I’ve seen you here before, and I’ve always wanted to ask. How did a lion like you get in a forest like this?”
“Long story,” Simba said with a shrug.
“You hang out with those two?”
Simba knew immediately whom she was referring to. “Well, uh, yeah. What of it?”
“Oh nothing. I just thought I’ve never seen you with another lion before. But there are a lot of strange things in this forest. Like that pair of hyenas.”
“Gur’bruk and Kambra?”
“You know them? They healed my shoulder once.”
“What do you know! They saved my life once.”
“Small world, isn’t it?” With a quick snatch of her powerful jaws, the antelope was on its way up the tree. In five or six bounds of her powerful legs, the prey was cached away in the branches.
“Whoa! I’d give anything to know how to do that!”
She came bounding down again. It was always disconcerting to Simba when she did that.
“Let me get this straight. You’re grown and you don’t know how to hunt?”
“Yeah.” Simba looked away.
“Didn’t your mother teach you anything?”
Simba looked at the ground. His ears and tail drooped. “She didn’t get a chance. My dad gave me a few pouncing lessons.”
“And?”
“He died when I was very little.”
“I’m sorry. So have you scavenged all this time?”
“No, ma’am. I’ve eaten bugs.”
“Bugs??”
“These guys helped me. I don’t know what I would have done without them.”
It brought out some of the motherly feelings in her. The corners of her mouth twitched. “I lost a cub once. I had a lot of things I wanted to tell her, and they’ve been bottled up inside me. Look, if you wait till I chow down, I’ll give you a couple of lessons, OK?”
“Neat!”
CHAPTER 58: CATS LIKE US
The leopardess had a leisurely meal in the tree. She did not offer to share her meal, and she was not asked. Timon and Pumbaa watched her pull off strips of the fresh meat and mince them with a look of pleasure before swallowing. Timon stared at her hungrily, running the tip of his tongue slowly around his lips. “Look at that, Pumbaa! That’s how real people live.”
Pumbaa said nothing, but his stomach complained periodically. Simba was quite content to watch her. Part of his missing heritage would be given him, and he awaited the wonderful secrets she would impart with open-mouthed wonder. “Imagine, me a hunter! A hunter like my mother before me!”
Pride began to swell in his chest, and he hadn’t even tried his luck at it yet.
Finally as the sun was getting low in the sky, she nosed the carcass and it fell out of the branches. Stretching in her precarious perch, she yawned, shook herself, and ambled down the tree. “You ready?”
“Yes ma’am!”
“Lose the ‘yes ma’am.’ My name’s Mikosi.”
“I’m Simba.”
“Glad to meet you at last.” She nuzzled him.
“I’m Timon, if anyone cares. This is my friend Pumbaa.”
Without even glancing in their direction, Mikosi continued. “If you’re going to learn from me, you must do what my cub would have done. Speak when spoken to, and then very softly. Every word we say is an enemy, seeking to betray us. Do you agree to this?”
Simba nodded quietly.
“You learn fast, I’ll grant you.”
For nearly two hours, she gave him lessons on stalking, running after prey, and staying downwind. Timon and Pumbaa watched with horrified fascination at the list of killing tactics, especially when she used them as examples in laying out an approach.
Then when the moon disappeared behind a cloud and the forest was cloaked in inky darkness, she said, “Let’s do it!”
He did exactly what she told him to do. And to his absolute amazement and hers he brought down a small antelope on his very first try!
“Maybe it’s beginner’s luck. But you earned this.”
Mikosi dipped her paw in the blood and made a pawprint on his cheek. “Somewhere out there your parents are proud of you.”
Before Simba could eat, she dragged the carcass up a nearby tree!
"Hey! Bring that back down here! I didn't even get a bite!"
"This is my payment for showing you where to hunt, big boy," she teased, chewing contentedly. “Next lesson: guard your prey from jealous eyes. That’s why I climb trees.”
“But that’s my first! I want to know what it tastes like!”
“I’ll describe it to you.”
“We could share.”
“We certainly could. But what would be the fun in that?”
“It would be nice and friendly.”
Simba extended his claws and began to shinny up the rough-barked tree with absolute determination in his eyes.
She stopped chewing, her claws flicking out as she hugged the limb for balance. "W-What are you DOING?!"
He flailed clumsily, trying to ascend and keep his own balance. "I'm going to join you for dinner, hon."
"STOP!" The tree, not that big to begin with, began to sway drunkenly. "You're too big, imbecile!"
"Well I’m getting smaller by the minute. I'm hungry."
CRAAACK!!!!
Splinters shot up in a spray and sap spewed into the air in haphazard patterns as the tree surrendered, shredding at its lower end to come tumbling down with a crash. As it neared the ground, the end of the tree snapped clear of the stump, pistoning out and jarring the cats, sending them flying clear. The gazelle was not so lucky; Mikosi had wedged it into a fork of the tree to keep it from falling, and she did her job well; it remained there all the way to the ground, where it was obliterated by the smashing weight of the trunk.
Mikosi shook her head blearily, staring at Simba as he staggered to his feet. "You're crazy!"
“Well look. I don’t mind hunting with you if you play fair, OK? Let’s set down some rules here and now. Those that work, eat.”
She looked into his angry eyes, expecting the worst. He went over to the fallen tree, pulling what remained of the carcass out and starting to eat as she watched hungrily. The sensation of eating meat stirred him, and he remembered old feelings and old friends from long ago. A shudder of deep emotion went through him. He’d finished more than half of it, but then he backed back a little. “Won’t you join me, Mikosi?”
“Really?”
“Yeah. When I say something, I mean it.”
She came up tentatively beside him, snatching a quick bite and chewing, relaxing when he ignored her and started to eat again. "Friends?"
"Friends."
She kissed his cheek. “You’re rather special, you know that?”
Abruptly a low growl issued from the trees behind them. They turned to see another leopard descending, his flat yellow glare fixed on Mikosi. "Gods, this is SICK! You'll go with ANYTHING! I thought you were just having an affair, but my gods, this is SICK!"
“He’s just a friend! He’d never been around his own kind, and I thought I’d show him how to--well--you know!”
The male leopard moaned. “That’s what I was afraid of!” She tried to explain, but he would hear none of it. He told Simba, "Get out, you home wrecker! Out, out out!!!!"
“I just trying to satisfy my appetite.”
"Oh gods! I don't want to hear the sordid details! Take your ‘appetite’ as you call it and GET OUT!!!"
As Simba padded away slowly, he couldn’t help but hear the heated argument behind him as the leopard berated Mikosi. “Tell me he didn’t! Tell me you didn’t!”
“You jealous fool,” she hissed. “What if we did! You think you can come waltzing into my life every few months and tell me how to run my affairs??”
In fury, he bellowed, “DID YOU??”
“NO!” Simba shouted. “Absolutely not! No way! Forget it kid! I’m out of here!”
“I thought you were very special!” she called after Simba.
“Special??” The leopard ran and blocked Simba’s escape. “Hey Fire Flanks, you want her, you fight for her! Come on, lion! I’ll fight you to the death!”
“But I don’t want to fight you!”
“Are you saying she’s not worth it! You made it with my wife, then you leave her flat?? I’d kill you for that, or die trying!”
“Look,” Simba said. “It’s really you she loves. I mean hey, she cried out your name by mistake. It’s a real turn-off when someone yells ‘Oh Oswego’ in a moment of passion.”
The leopard’s hackles raised and he began to tremble with unstoppable rage. Just as Timon and Pumbaa were wishing they were on another continent, the leopard shrilly screamed, “I’M NOT OSWEGO!! MY NAME IS HAMBA!!”
He pushed past Simba and barreled after the leopardess at top speed. When all was still, and the trio had gone safely into the forest, Timon said, “Yesss!!” and high-fived Simba. “Gods, what an inspiration!!”
Pumbaa said nothing, but his stomach complained periodically. Simba was quite content to watch her. Part of his missing heritage would be given him, and he awaited the wonderful secrets she would impart with open-mouthed wonder. “Imagine, me a hunter! A hunter like my mother before me!”
Pride began to swell in his chest, and he hadn’t even tried his luck at it yet.
Finally as the sun was getting low in the sky, she nosed the carcass and it fell out of the branches. Stretching in her precarious perch, she yawned, shook herself, and ambled down the tree. “You ready?”
“Yes ma’am!”
“Lose the ‘yes ma’am.’ My name’s Mikosi.”
“I’m Simba.”
“Glad to meet you at last.” She nuzzled him.
“I’m Timon, if anyone cares. This is my friend Pumbaa.”
Without even glancing in their direction, Mikosi continued. “If you’re going to learn from me, you must do what my cub would have done. Speak when spoken to, and then very softly. Every word we say is an enemy, seeking to betray us. Do you agree to this?”
Simba nodded quietly.
“You learn fast, I’ll grant you.”
For nearly two hours, she gave him lessons on stalking, running after prey, and staying downwind. Timon and Pumbaa watched with horrified fascination at the list of killing tactics, especially when she used them as examples in laying out an approach.
Then when the moon disappeared behind a cloud and the forest was cloaked in inky darkness, she said, “Let’s do it!”
He did exactly what she told him to do. And to his absolute amazement and hers he brought down a small antelope on his very first try!
“Maybe it’s beginner’s luck. But you earned this.”
Mikosi dipped her paw in the blood and made a pawprint on his cheek. “Somewhere out there your parents are proud of you.”
Before Simba could eat, she dragged the carcass up a nearby tree!
"Hey! Bring that back down here! I didn't even get a bite!"
"This is my payment for showing you where to hunt, big boy," she teased, chewing contentedly. “Next lesson: guard your prey from jealous eyes. That’s why I climb trees.”
“But that’s my first! I want to know what it tastes like!”
“I’ll describe it to you.”
“We could share.”
“We certainly could. But what would be the fun in that?”
“It would be nice and friendly.”
Simba extended his claws and began to shinny up the rough-barked tree with absolute determination in his eyes.
She stopped chewing, her claws flicking out as she hugged the limb for balance. "W-What are you DOING?!"
He flailed clumsily, trying to ascend and keep his own balance. "I'm going to join you for dinner, hon."
"STOP!" The tree, not that big to begin with, began to sway drunkenly. "You're too big, imbecile!"
"Well I’m getting smaller by the minute. I'm hungry."
CRAAACK!!!!
Splinters shot up in a spray and sap spewed into the air in haphazard patterns as the tree surrendered, shredding at its lower end to come tumbling down with a crash. As it neared the ground, the end of the tree snapped clear of the stump, pistoning out and jarring the cats, sending them flying clear. The gazelle was not so lucky; Mikosi had wedged it into a fork of the tree to keep it from falling, and she did her job well; it remained there all the way to the ground, where it was obliterated by the smashing weight of the trunk.
Mikosi shook her head blearily, staring at Simba as he staggered to his feet. "You're crazy!"
“Well look. I don’t mind hunting with you if you play fair, OK? Let’s set down some rules here and now. Those that work, eat.”
She looked into his angry eyes, expecting the worst. He went over to the fallen tree, pulling what remained of the carcass out and starting to eat as she watched hungrily. The sensation of eating meat stirred him, and he remembered old feelings and old friends from long ago. A shudder of deep emotion went through him. He’d finished more than half of it, but then he backed back a little. “Won’t you join me, Mikosi?”
“Really?”
“Yeah. When I say something, I mean it.”
She came up tentatively beside him, snatching a quick bite and chewing, relaxing when he ignored her and started to eat again. "Friends?"
"Friends."
She kissed his cheek. “You’re rather special, you know that?”
Abruptly a low growl issued from the trees behind them. They turned to see another leopard descending, his flat yellow glare fixed on Mikosi. "Gods, this is SICK! You'll go with ANYTHING! I thought you were just having an affair, but my gods, this is SICK!"
“He’s just a friend! He’d never been around his own kind, and I thought I’d show him how to--well--you know!”
The male leopard moaned. “That’s what I was afraid of!” She tried to explain, but he would hear none of it. He told Simba, "Get out, you home wrecker! Out, out out!!!!"
“I just trying to satisfy my appetite.”
"Oh gods! I don't want to hear the sordid details! Take your ‘appetite’ as you call it and GET OUT!!!"
As Simba padded away slowly, he couldn’t help but hear the heated argument behind him as the leopard berated Mikosi. “Tell me he didn’t! Tell me you didn’t!”
“You jealous fool,” she hissed. “What if we did! You think you can come waltzing into my life every few months and tell me how to run my affairs??”
In fury, he bellowed, “DID YOU??”
“NO!” Simba shouted. “Absolutely not! No way! Forget it kid! I’m out of here!”
“I thought you were very special!” she called after Simba.
“Special??” The leopard ran and blocked Simba’s escape. “Hey Fire Flanks, you want her, you fight for her! Come on, lion! I’ll fight you to the death!”
“But I don’t want to fight you!”
“Are you saying she’s not worth it! You made it with my wife, then you leave her flat?? I’d kill you for that, or die trying!”
“Look,” Simba said. “It’s really you she loves. I mean hey, she cried out your name by mistake. It’s a real turn-off when someone yells ‘Oh Oswego’ in a moment of passion.”
The leopard’s hackles raised and he began to tremble with unstoppable rage. Just as Timon and Pumbaa were wishing they were on another continent, the leopard shrilly screamed, “I’M NOT OSWEGO!! MY NAME IS HAMBA!!”
He pushed past Simba and barreled after the leopardess at top speed. When all was still, and the trio had gone safely into the forest, Timon said, “Yesss!!” and high-fived Simba. “Gods, what an inspiration!!”
CHAPTER 59: TO SLEEP, PERCHANCE TO DREAM
Simba listened enraptured to the soft voice of the leopardess. “You are special,” she purred alluringly. “Friends?”
“Friends.”
“You can’t have him,” a lioness voice said from the bushes. “He doesn’t belong in the trees like a leopard. He belongs in the open with me.” It was Sasha.
The lioness twitched her head for him to follow. He left the leopardess behind and followed her.
Soon he found himself back in the open savanna where his heart belonged. Sasha came to him and nuzzled him slowly and gently, pawing his face and then slinking softly down his full length. “Isn’t this better?”
“Much.”
“Jomo is not around. We have this to ourselves.”
A smile warmed the corners of her shapely mouth and her eyes half closed. She rolled on her back in the rich grass, taking in a deep breath and letting it slowly out. “Simba.”
He smiled, drifting alongside her warm body and lowering his bulk with such grace that the grass whispered in answer. He looked over into her soft hazel eyes and rolled on his back, snuggled against her graceful body. A feeling of peace and contentment swept over him like a calm wind, blowing his worries and doubts away and leaving only the essence of his wondering soul.
As they lay next to each other, she reached over with an adventurous paw and began to explore his soft mane and feel his heartbeat. Simba grunted his approval, his eyes half closed in satisfaction. “Oh yes, you know what I like.”
“I know what you like,” she said mischievously, and she began to widen her explorations.
His eyes opened wide. “Hey!”
She gazed at him longingly. “It’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“Well, I....”
She licked his face slowly and passionately. “You can’t hide it from me. It’s been on your mind since we met.”
“Well, I....”
“It’s all right, honey tree. Really it is. It’s what I want too.” She reached over with a paw again, starting at his chest and slowly, steadily setting him on fire. “Make love to me, Simba.”
“OK. But it’s going to be my first time.” He rolled over and got to his feet. “Do you still want me?”
She looked up at him and smiled. “Yes.” She rolled over smoothly into a crouch. “Don’t be afraid. You’re so timid, just like a little cub.” She licked out the end of her tongue in a kiss. “I think you’re kind of cute.”
Suddenly, Jomo came running toward them. “Get away! Get away from her!”
The two squared off, and Simba flailed at him, claws out. Jomo was bold, but to the point of overconfidence. He did not expect a firm defense, and Simba struck at him, catching him on the side of the face.
Stunned, Jomo fell back, and Simba rained blow after blow on him almost unopposed.
Soon Simba prevailed. He saw the vanquished foe at his feet, but rather than beg for mercy, the lion said, "Everything I had is yours. But before you make love to her, why don't you tell her I'm the second lion you killed. Your own father's blood is on your paws!"
Simba looked at him and realized it was his Uncle Scar.
"No!" Simba backed up. "I didn't kill him!” he stammered. “I swear I didn't! It was an accident!"
Taka glared at him as he lay mortally wounded, his life draining away with each beat of his heart. "It's all your fault! If you hadn’t messed up, he’d still be alive. Go away and never come back!"
"It's NOT my fault! It's NOT!"
Simba struggled awake, striking out at the bare air in his efforts to escape the nightmare. Breathing rapidly, his heart pounding, he sat in the still heat of the jungle, the humid air stifling him and making each breath an effort. At last his heat slowed, and he reclined back onto the leaves, his fur soaked in sweat. His eyes flicked up to the dark canopy of leaves overhead, and for the first time in months, he wept bitterly, the tears falling silent onto the forest loam.
“Friends.”
“You can’t have him,” a lioness voice said from the bushes. “He doesn’t belong in the trees like a leopard. He belongs in the open with me.” It was Sasha.
The lioness twitched her head for him to follow. He left the leopardess behind and followed her.
Soon he found himself back in the open savanna where his heart belonged. Sasha came to him and nuzzled him slowly and gently, pawing his face and then slinking softly down his full length. “Isn’t this better?”
“Much.”
“Jomo is not around. We have this to ourselves.”
A smile warmed the corners of her shapely mouth and her eyes half closed. She rolled on her back in the rich grass, taking in a deep breath and letting it slowly out. “Simba.”
He smiled, drifting alongside her warm body and lowering his bulk with such grace that the grass whispered in answer. He looked over into her soft hazel eyes and rolled on his back, snuggled against her graceful body. A feeling of peace and contentment swept over him like a calm wind, blowing his worries and doubts away and leaving only the essence of his wondering soul.
As they lay next to each other, she reached over with an adventurous paw and began to explore his soft mane and feel his heartbeat. Simba grunted his approval, his eyes half closed in satisfaction. “Oh yes, you know what I like.”
“I know what you like,” she said mischievously, and she began to widen her explorations.
His eyes opened wide. “Hey!”
She gazed at him longingly. “It’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“Well, I....”
She licked his face slowly and passionately. “You can’t hide it from me. It’s been on your mind since we met.”
“Well, I....”
“It’s all right, honey tree. Really it is. It’s what I want too.” She reached over with a paw again, starting at his chest and slowly, steadily setting him on fire. “Make love to me, Simba.”
“OK. But it’s going to be my first time.” He rolled over and got to his feet. “Do you still want me?”
She looked up at him and smiled. “Yes.” She rolled over smoothly into a crouch. “Don’t be afraid. You’re so timid, just like a little cub.” She licked out the end of her tongue in a kiss. “I think you’re kind of cute.”
Suddenly, Jomo came running toward them. “Get away! Get away from her!”
The two squared off, and Simba flailed at him, claws out. Jomo was bold, but to the point of overconfidence. He did not expect a firm defense, and Simba struck at him, catching him on the side of the face.
Stunned, Jomo fell back, and Simba rained blow after blow on him almost unopposed.
Soon Simba prevailed. He saw the vanquished foe at his feet, but rather than beg for mercy, the lion said, "Everything I had is yours. But before you make love to her, why don't you tell her I'm the second lion you killed. Your own father's blood is on your paws!"
Simba looked at him and realized it was his Uncle Scar.
"No!" Simba backed up. "I didn't kill him!” he stammered. “I swear I didn't! It was an accident!"
Taka glared at him as he lay mortally wounded, his life draining away with each beat of his heart. "It's all your fault! If you hadn’t messed up, he’d still be alive. Go away and never come back!"
"It's NOT my fault! It's NOT!"
Simba struggled awake, striking out at the bare air in his efforts to escape the nightmare. Breathing rapidly, his heart pounding, he sat in the still heat of the jungle, the humid air stifling him and making each breath an effort. At last his heat slowed, and he reclined back onto the leaves, his fur soaked in sweat. His eyes flicked up to the dark canopy of leaves overhead, and for the first time in months, he wept bitterly, the tears falling silent onto the forest loam.
CHAPTER 60: PIPKAH THE GREAT
Uzuri heard that Pipkah’s latest fiasco was supposedly due to errors by the lionesses, for the maneuver was a flawless one taught him by “my dear friend Uzuri.” Pipkah had been playing that association to the hilt lately, and Uzuri was determined that at her own time and in her own way she would set the record straight.
Pipkah enjoyed the cool, clear waters of the cistern behind Pride Rock. He came alone, which suited Uzuri just fine.
Pipkah drank deeply, then let out a satisfying belch. Ah, life at Pride Rock was good, even if there was not as much food as there used to be. As one of Shenzi’s trusted ones, he always ate well if nearly everyone else did without.
“It’s me,” Uzuri said, stepping out of the shadows.
“Uzuri!” Pipkah stepped back a pace or two, not certain how much she’d heard or how she would react.
“My Pipkah,” she said softly, nuzzling him. “You know I’m in my season. Taka is content with Elanna, and where does that leave me?”
“Very disappointed?”
“Not really. Not as alone as you might think.” She rubbed along him full length. “It will be awkward at first, but you will adjust with a little help from me.”
Pipkah stepped back again. “Adjust what?”
Uzuri let out a protracted purr, her eyes half closed. “A hunter like me and a hunter like you. When I heard about your legendary skill, that was it. I was lost. Make love to me, Pipkah!”
“Oh gods....” Pipkah swallowed hard. “I’m not really that good! I brag a lot. Some of it is a downright lie!”
“So modest and shy! I think that’s SUCH a turn-on! Just think—we’ll have three days of non-stop passion.”
“Three days??”
He started to leave, but she stepped in his path rather suddenly. “Make love to me, Pipkah! Set me on fire!”
“But I....” He scrambled on top of a small rock. She looked up at him and easily bounded up with him, her body crowded next to his on the small platform.
“But what about—uh—Shimbekh! Yeah, Shimbekh!”
“I’ll have a talk with her.”
“No, don’t do that!”
“She deserves to know what we share between us! She is a good girl, and needs to find another male.” She looked him over appraisingly. “Those are the cutest ears, and that smile is so warm and sexy.”
“Uh, thanks, I think.”
“And check out that fanny!” She reached back with a paw and tickled him.
“Whoa!!! My gods!!!” He jumped from the rock, shivering. “Madam, PLEASE!”
“You don’t have to beg me!” She jumped down, then walked in front of him and crouched down, looking over her back. “Come on, lover! Give it your best shot. We’ll work on it till we get it right.”
Ber padded around the corner and froze. “Oops!”
“Ber! Hey, old buddy!”
“Pipkah—I hope I’m not interrupting anything....”
“Oh, not at all! This is NOT what it looks like!”
Panting and moving her lips in a pout, Uzuri stared at Pipkah. “I’m waiting, honey pot.”
“I can come back later,” Ber said.
“Come back in about three days,” Uzuri said shortly. “We’re otherwise occupied.”
“You said it, sister! But don’t worry—I won’t tell a WORD to the others. Your secret is safe with me.” Ber laughed wickedly. “But of course we ALL know how you feel about each other.” He started to go.
“Don’t leave me here!” Pipkah cried. “I mean, there’s no rush, old friend. I have to get to guard duty. You keep Uzuri company for me.”
“I took on your guard duty, remember?”
“But you’ve been two days without a furlough. I don’t think that’s morally RIGHT, Ber!”
“Hmmm. The only way you could relieve me if you wanted to would be to take the next eight days.”
“EIGHT DAYS??”
“But hey, I got you covered. You’ll have NO INTERRUPTIONS. Kiss kiss!”
“OK, eight days it is!” Pipkah looked at Uzuri. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I have work to do. Maybe in eight days, if you’re still interested, we can have a red-hot honeymoon under the acacias.”
He ran away very quickly.
Uzuri laughed. “Ok, Ber, you remember our agreement? I got you eight days of leisure.”
“And you sneak away for three days to see your husband that I’m not aware exists. If anyone asks me where you are, you’re sick and I saw you retching up breakfast.” He smiled coyly and added, “Behave yourself, my dear! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
She smiled back. “Honey tree, I’m about to do EVERYTHING you wouldn’t do!”
Pipkah enjoyed the cool, clear waters of the cistern behind Pride Rock. He came alone, which suited Uzuri just fine.
Pipkah drank deeply, then let out a satisfying belch. Ah, life at Pride Rock was good, even if there was not as much food as there used to be. As one of Shenzi’s trusted ones, he always ate well if nearly everyone else did without.
“It’s me,” Uzuri said, stepping out of the shadows.
“Uzuri!” Pipkah stepped back a pace or two, not certain how much she’d heard or how she would react.
“My Pipkah,” she said softly, nuzzling him. “You know I’m in my season. Taka is content with Elanna, and where does that leave me?”
“Very disappointed?”
“Not really. Not as alone as you might think.” She rubbed along him full length. “It will be awkward at first, but you will adjust with a little help from me.”
Pipkah stepped back again. “Adjust what?”
Uzuri let out a protracted purr, her eyes half closed. “A hunter like me and a hunter like you. When I heard about your legendary skill, that was it. I was lost. Make love to me, Pipkah!”
“Oh gods....” Pipkah swallowed hard. “I’m not really that good! I brag a lot. Some of it is a downright lie!”
“So modest and shy! I think that’s SUCH a turn-on! Just think—we’ll have three days of non-stop passion.”
“Three days??”
He started to leave, but she stepped in his path rather suddenly. “Make love to me, Pipkah! Set me on fire!”
“But I....” He scrambled on top of a small rock. She looked up at him and easily bounded up with him, her body crowded next to his on the small platform.
“But what about—uh—Shimbekh! Yeah, Shimbekh!”
“I’ll have a talk with her.”
“No, don’t do that!”
“She deserves to know what we share between us! She is a good girl, and needs to find another male.” She looked him over appraisingly. “Those are the cutest ears, and that smile is so warm and sexy.”
“Uh, thanks, I think.”
“And check out that fanny!” She reached back with a paw and tickled him.
“Whoa!!! My gods!!!” He jumped from the rock, shivering. “Madam, PLEASE!”
“You don’t have to beg me!” She jumped down, then walked in front of him and crouched down, looking over her back. “Come on, lover! Give it your best shot. We’ll work on it till we get it right.”
Ber padded around the corner and froze. “Oops!”
“Ber! Hey, old buddy!”
“Pipkah—I hope I’m not interrupting anything....”
“Oh, not at all! This is NOT what it looks like!”
Panting and moving her lips in a pout, Uzuri stared at Pipkah. “I’m waiting, honey pot.”
“I can come back later,” Ber said.
“Come back in about three days,” Uzuri said shortly. “We’re otherwise occupied.”
“You said it, sister! But don’t worry—I won’t tell a WORD to the others. Your secret is safe with me.” Ber laughed wickedly. “But of course we ALL know how you feel about each other.” He started to go.
“Don’t leave me here!” Pipkah cried. “I mean, there’s no rush, old friend. I have to get to guard duty. You keep Uzuri company for me.”
“I took on your guard duty, remember?”
“But you’ve been two days without a furlough. I don’t think that’s morally RIGHT, Ber!”
“Hmmm. The only way you could relieve me if you wanted to would be to take the next eight days.”
“EIGHT DAYS??”
“But hey, I got you covered. You’ll have NO INTERRUPTIONS. Kiss kiss!”
“OK, eight days it is!” Pipkah looked at Uzuri. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I have work to do. Maybe in eight days, if you’re still interested, we can have a red-hot honeymoon under the acacias.”
He ran away very quickly.
Uzuri laughed. “Ok, Ber, you remember our agreement? I got you eight days of leisure.”
“And you sneak away for three days to see your husband that I’m not aware exists. If anyone asks me where you are, you’re sick and I saw you retching up breakfast.” He smiled coyly and added, “Behave yourself, my dear! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
She smiled back. “Honey tree, I’m about to do EVERYTHING you wouldn’t do!”
CHAPTER 61: FACING FACTS
Ef a man is what he isn’t, den he isn’t what he am,
And as sure as I’m a-talkin’ he isn’t worth a damn!
Doan’t ye be what you ain’t, jes’ you be what you is.
Ef a man is what he isn’t, den he isn’t what he is;
And as sure as I’m a-talkin’, he’s a-gwyne to git his!
-- EDWIN MILTON ROYLE
Simba was disturbed by some of the feelings his young adulthood gave him. Hakuna Matata was stretching thin. He wanted a mate, he wanted meat, he wanted a territory, he wanted absolution. In short, he felt trapped, with little hope of ever achieving any of the success predicted by Gur’bruk and Kambra.
Sefu the secretary bird was unconventional, but his advice when given was not taken lightly. And it was to Sefu that he looked for help.
Of course, Sefu was not easily found. Unlike his old friends on Pride Rock, there was no way of knowing when and were the Secretary Bird would show up. Despondent, Simba paused one morning while Timon and Pumbaa continued on to the water hole to get a drink and bowed his head.
“Please, Aiheu, help me! I may not pray every night like I should, and I may be just a fugitive, but Mom said you were merciful. Please give me a second chance, God. Please show me the way--I’m so lost!”
Just when Simba was about to lose his faith in the power of prayer, Sefu surprised them at the watering hole.
“Sefu! I’m so glad to see you!”
“Hey, cat! Likewise!”
While Pumbaa wallowed in the shallows and Timon gargled noisily as he drank, Simba managed to corner Sefu for a moment and try to put into words what was only a feeling of emptiness, a dread of dying alone and forgotten, a creeping despair that eroded him like fungi on a fallen log.
“Hey, been there, done that.” Sefu looked at him appraisingly. “Some of us little folks can fit into a little hole somewhere and hide ourselves from the world. Some of us can’t.”
“Yeah.”
“I heard through the grapevine that you tried to take meat from the local tribesmen. I guess you found out they have a lot of sense for creatures without fur or feathers.”
Simba uttered a short laugh. “No darned kidding.”
“Well they have this custom of making shapes of geese out of pitch covered straw. From a distance, they look real. They are set out in the lake and when the real geese see them, they think its safe and light. Then they get whacked.”
“Is there a moral to this story?”
“No!” Sefu said. “I just wanted you to know that you’re an impostor. You’re not a jungle bum. Hakuna Matata does not fit you. You were meant to be marsh grass, and no matter how much they weave you or tar you, you can't be a goose unless you were born a goose. Fish gotta swim, birds gotta fly--well, at least most of them do--and lions gotta roar. You don't belong here. You'll NEVER belong here. You belong out there, free and unencumbered. As free as the wind blows. As free as the grass grows. Born free to follow your heart." He threw back his wing, held up his head and burst out with "BORN FREE! AS FREE AS THE WIND BLOWS...."
Timon grabbed his beak shut. "Please, don't sing it!" He turned back to Simba. “Listen, kid! It does no good bringing up a lot of false hopes and stirring up a lot of pain. Hakuna Matata is the only way. You gotta be like Pumbaa here--he’s got it all figured out.”
But Pumbaa was looking at Sefu and Simba wistfully. He was anything but sure about Timon’s logic. He felt sorry for Simba.
“I was afraid this would happen someday,” Pumbaa said. “But when the time comes, I’ll let go. Simba, we’re all born into this world with a destiny. Some of us might have it easier than others, but you can’t escape your destiny.”
“What is my destiny?” Simba asked.
“That is something that you must figure out for yourself, my son. That’s between you and God. And whatever it is, I’ll be there to help you fulfill it.”
Timon looked at Pumbaa disbelievingly. But the warthog had a look of wisdom and nobility shining in his eyes that stunned him. He could not find the nerve to contradict him, and looked away, sighing. “Yeah, IF.”
CHAPTER 62: THE LEAP OF FAITH
Makhpil was quick to join the Omlakhs. She was filled with love and idealism, and she expected even more from her God. Even before she saw chinks in the psychic armor of Melmokh, she knew that he was a pretender and evil.
But her suspicions were confirmed in a very real and frightening way. She had never spoken with Gur’mekh, but through her contacts with Shimbekh and Brin’bi she understood at a gut level the possibilities of her powers. And in what was to settle her doubts forever, she lay on the ground and covered her eyes with her paws. “Thou in me and I in thee. Come together let us be!” She repeated the mantra over and over, feeling in her heart the closeness of the one who claimed to be God. That she might not survive was not important. One way or the other she must know.
“Thou in me and I in thee. Come together let us be!”
She rolled over on her back, her breath coming and going in short gasps. Reaching out with a paw, she touched the spirit of Melmokh.
A wave of revulsion filled her as she felt a sensation akin to swallowing a mouthful of spiderwebs. Fighting the urge to vomit, she pulled back hastily, breaking contact and opening her eyes wide in a shriek of horror. The next several breaths she drew in escaped as cries of pain and despair. “Oh my God! It’s evil! It’s evil!”
She got up and ran around in tight little circles as if chasing her tail, the hackles raised along her back. “Help us, Roh’kash! Help us! Great Mother, we’re all being led to Hell! Save us, God!”
The false Roh’kash jumped up with a start. “Who dared! Who dared touch me!!”
The followers were all at a distance and looked around at each other. “Great Mother, no one touched you!”
“Not with a paw, stupid!” Melmokh shot a glance at the hapless hyena and he jumped, yelping in pain. The others fell on the ground rolling over and reaching out with a paw. “Mercy, Great Mother! Mercy!”
With a look of ultimate rage, his hackles raised, Melmokh ran out of the circle and began running around the elephant graveyard looking for the source of the pain. But it was too late--Makhpil had released her without betraying her own thoughts.
Makhpil ran to Ber and fell before him. “Okhim Ber,” she gasped, “I’ve seen the devil himself! I’ll do anything to help you, anything!”
Ber nuzzled her and rubbed her face with his paw. “Blessed bak’ret, daughter of Roh’kash, may the true God reward your faith!”
She knew that the Roh'kash was false. She could not hide that from Shimbekh, who had her own doubts, but could not be sure.
It was Shimbekh that Melmokh suspected, and so as Roh’kash, he persuaded Roh’mach Shenzi to order Shimbekh to give false prophesy. If she refused, she would be killed. If she did not refuse, she would be psychically blind. Either way, Melmokh would preserve his dark heart from the sight of the others.
Meekly, Shimbekh considered the life of her new daughter and put Makhpil’s welfare before her own. And she lied to Taka about his chosen heir, even as she was commanded.
Cut off from her spirit husband and unable to reach her daughter’s heart except through talking, she sank into a deep depression. It was a frightening kind of aloneness. From time to time she would beg Makhpil to take messages to Brin’bi as if he lived in a different land far, far away. When Makhpil explained to her mother who the false Roh’kash was, she bit her own leg till the blood ran down. “So it wasn’t Gur’mekh who led to our downfall. It was me! Oh gods, it was me! I could have stopped this!”
Shimbekh began to grow gaunt and ill kept, looking as she did after the vision of Gur’mekh. Makhpil had to beg her to eat--each bite was a concession to Shimbekh’s love for her daughter, for she did not want to go on living.
Then one day Makhpil prophesied that joy awaited Shimbekh at the gorge. It was the hope that she was looking for.
Shimbekh told Makhpil that as the one remaining seer she had to take care of herself and keep prophesy alive among the people if they were ever to survive. Determined to repair what she had done, she went to Uzuri and confessed her full load of guilt. Uzuri was not psychically gifted, but she could see the sincerity in her eyes and took the message to heart. It awakened hope in her spirit.
Shimbekh then went to the gorge. “Great Mother, I have sinned. I have tried to out guess your will and it will not be through me that the suffering will end. But have mercy on me. I have confessed my guilt, and I only ask for my husband back. Please?”
Then looking off the edge, standing far out on a cloud, she saw her husband. She was so overwhelmed that she almost lost her footing.
"It's time for us to be together," he said. He sensed the rage of Melmokh at the edge of his awareness, and saw the assassins the false Roh’kash had dispatched to rid himself of Shimbekh. Brin’bi shook his head sorrowfully. He looked at Shimbekh and forced a smile for her sake. “Our time is soon, love.”
“Our time is now.” Without removing her gaze from his, Shimbekh backed up and launched herself into the open space of the gorge. Without a sound she plummeted, caroming off the rock wall and beginning to tumble through the air. She closed her eyes, not feeling the pain as her body was terribly abused by the unforgiving walls of the gorge. Brin’bi stood there in her mind, a look of surprise on his face as he saw her descend. Her eyes opened and she saw the ground rushing up at her with terrible finality.
“Brin’bi,” she murmured, and was silenced forever.
Makhpil was expected to be saddened by the death of her mother. Instead Makhpil seemed to grow in beauty and spirit, showing signs of joy and optimism for the future. Only Amarakh knew that her life had changed for the better, for now her mother and father were together again, inseparable, and the three of them went on with their life with very little change.
But her suspicions were confirmed in a very real and frightening way. She had never spoken with Gur’mekh, but through her contacts with Shimbekh and Brin’bi she understood at a gut level the possibilities of her powers. And in what was to settle her doubts forever, she lay on the ground and covered her eyes with her paws. “Thou in me and I in thee. Come together let us be!” She repeated the mantra over and over, feeling in her heart the closeness of the one who claimed to be God. That she might not survive was not important. One way or the other she must know.
“Thou in me and I in thee. Come together let us be!”
She rolled over on her back, her breath coming and going in short gasps. Reaching out with a paw, she touched the spirit of Melmokh.
A wave of revulsion filled her as she felt a sensation akin to swallowing a mouthful of spiderwebs. Fighting the urge to vomit, she pulled back hastily, breaking contact and opening her eyes wide in a shriek of horror. The next several breaths she drew in escaped as cries of pain and despair. “Oh my God! It’s evil! It’s evil!”
She got up and ran around in tight little circles as if chasing her tail, the hackles raised along her back. “Help us, Roh’kash! Help us! Great Mother, we’re all being led to Hell! Save us, God!”
The false Roh’kash jumped up with a start. “Who dared! Who dared touch me!!”
The followers were all at a distance and looked around at each other. “Great Mother, no one touched you!”
“Not with a paw, stupid!” Melmokh shot a glance at the hapless hyena and he jumped, yelping in pain. The others fell on the ground rolling over and reaching out with a paw. “Mercy, Great Mother! Mercy!”
With a look of ultimate rage, his hackles raised, Melmokh ran out of the circle and began running around the elephant graveyard looking for the source of the pain. But it was too late--Makhpil had released her without betraying her own thoughts.
Makhpil ran to Ber and fell before him. “Okhim Ber,” she gasped, “I’ve seen the devil himself! I’ll do anything to help you, anything!”
Ber nuzzled her and rubbed her face with his paw. “Blessed bak’ret, daughter of Roh’kash, may the true God reward your faith!”
She knew that the Roh'kash was false. She could not hide that from Shimbekh, who had her own doubts, but could not be sure.
It was Shimbekh that Melmokh suspected, and so as Roh’kash, he persuaded Roh’mach Shenzi to order Shimbekh to give false prophesy. If she refused, she would be killed. If she did not refuse, she would be psychically blind. Either way, Melmokh would preserve his dark heart from the sight of the others.
Meekly, Shimbekh considered the life of her new daughter and put Makhpil’s welfare before her own. And she lied to Taka about his chosen heir, even as she was commanded.
Cut off from her spirit husband and unable to reach her daughter’s heart except through talking, she sank into a deep depression. It was a frightening kind of aloneness. From time to time she would beg Makhpil to take messages to Brin’bi as if he lived in a different land far, far away. When Makhpil explained to her mother who the false Roh’kash was, she bit her own leg till the blood ran down. “So it wasn’t Gur’mekh who led to our downfall. It was me! Oh gods, it was me! I could have stopped this!”
Shimbekh began to grow gaunt and ill kept, looking as she did after the vision of Gur’mekh. Makhpil had to beg her to eat--each bite was a concession to Shimbekh’s love for her daughter, for she did not want to go on living.
Then one day Makhpil prophesied that joy awaited Shimbekh at the gorge. It was the hope that she was looking for.
Shimbekh told Makhpil that as the one remaining seer she had to take care of herself and keep prophesy alive among the people if they were ever to survive. Determined to repair what she had done, she went to Uzuri and confessed her full load of guilt. Uzuri was not psychically gifted, but she could see the sincerity in her eyes and took the message to heart. It awakened hope in her spirit.
Shimbekh then went to the gorge. “Great Mother, I have sinned. I have tried to out guess your will and it will not be through me that the suffering will end. But have mercy on me. I have confessed my guilt, and I only ask for my husband back. Please?”
Then looking off the edge, standing far out on a cloud, she saw her husband. She was so overwhelmed that she almost lost her footing.
"It's time for us to be together," he said. He sensed the rage of Melmokh at the edge of his awareness, and saw the assassins the false Roh’kash had dispatched to rid himself of Shimbekh. Brin’bi shook his head sorrowfully. He looked at Shimbekh and forced a smile for her sake. “Our time is soon, love.”
“Our time is now.” Without removing her gaze from his, Shimbekh backed up and launched herself into the open space of the gorge. Without a sound she plummeted, caroming off the rock wall and beginning to tumble through the air. She closed her eyes, not feeling the pain as her body was terribly abused by the unforgiving walls of the gorge. Brin’bi stood there in her mind, a look of surprise on his face as he saw her descend. Her eyes opened and she saw the ground rushing up at her with terrible finality.
“Brin’bi,” she murmured, and was silenced forever.
Makhpil was expected to be saddened by the death of her mother. Instead Makhpil seemed to grow in beauty and spirit, showing signs of joy and optimism for the future. Only Amarakh knew that her life had changed for the better, for now her mother and father were together again, inseparable, and the three of them went on with their life with very little change.
CHAPTER 63: THE MEETING
“SHE’S GONNA EAT MEEE!!”
Simba’s ears twitched violently at the sound of the scream behind him. “Oh gods!” Turning about, he began to sprint, praying with all his heart he would arrive in time. As he neared, he heard the distinct snarl of a lioness closing in for the kill, and the sound was familiar indeed. His eyes narrowed as he rounded a corner and saw Pumbaa wedged under a tree root, scrabbling desperately for release.
That damned Sasha lied to me, he thought. Well, we’ll see who gets thrown out of whose territory NOW!
A terrible snarl erupted from him as he leapt over the root, floating through the air in a graceful leap. He descended rapidly, crashing down with terrifying force in front of the lioness as she slid to a stop, a look of total surprise on her face. Simba lashed out, snarling, noting that this was not Sasha after all, but another lioness, much younger, in fact. No matter.
Timon leapt with joy as Simba joined battle with a fury that shook the earth. “Get her! Bite her head!” He capered atop Pumbaa’s rump gleefully as the two titans thrashed about, paws whipping through the air in an awesome display of chained fury.
The lioness backed back, claws whipping around in an effort to lash his face, but his mane deflected the blows as he closed in. Gathering himself, Simba launched himself at her, jaws spreading as he prepared to seize her throat--
--and then he gave a startled “WHUFF!” of surprise as her feet sank into his belly, knocking the wind from him. The world spun crazily, and he found himself lying on his back, the lioness pinning him to the ground, her hot breath billowing in his face as she bared her fangs at his throat. Stricken, sure he would be dead in a few more seconds, he looked up to meet her gaze...and saw the brilliant green eyes staring into his.
He had seen those eyes in a thousand dreams. “Nala?!”
The snarling grimace of the lioness vanished, her face transforming from awesome rage into awesome beauty. Her jaw dropped and she backed away, crowding into a tree trunk and staring at the stranger before her. “Is it really you?”
She gazed at him suspiciously. Was it possible that Taka would send someone to follow her? Nonsense. A male such as this he would have killed outright, or at least driven off. “Who are you?”
“It’s me! Simba.”
“Simba?” The name rolled oddly off her tongue as she looked at him. Funny, she had known a cub by the same name when she was a child...her eyes widened as she looked into his face and SAW him, oh gods, he was ALIVE!
“WHOAAAAW! A simultaneous explosion of joy erupted from the two as they rubbed heads together in greeting, filling the air with a cacophony of confused questions.
“But how did you--”
“It’s GREAT to see you!”
“It’s good to see YOU!”
“I thought you were--”
“HEY! WHAT’S GOIN’ ON HERE?!”
Simba grinned and introduced his companions to Nala, chuckling at Timon’s utter confusion. His mirth was short lived, as Nala looked at him, her face serious.
“Wait till everyone finds out you’ve been HERE all this time! And your mother...what will she think?”
Simba felt a mad rush of panic that nearly overwhelmed him. “She doesn’t have to know. Nobody has to know.”
“Of course they do! Everyone thinks you’re dead!”
He looked at her, shocked. “They do?”
“Yeah.” She lowered her gaze sadly. “Scar told us about the stampede.” She glanced up tentatively, afraid to meet his gaze.
Simba was awash with cold fear. “He did? What else did he tell you?”
“What else matters?! You’re alive! And that means...” she looked at him, a new look of awe on her face mixed with newborn hope. “You’re the king.”
Simba froze into immobile stillness. He watched numbly as Timon and Pumbaa transformed before his eyes, looking at him like some new kind of insect they’d never seen before. Before Timon could embroil himself into an argument with Nala, he sighed deeply. “Maybe you’d better go.”
Timon gaped. “It starts. You THINK you know a guy...”
Simba watched them leave, then grinned shamefacedly at Nala. “Timon and Pumbaa. You learn to love ‘em.” He fell silent as he saw Nala with her back to him, looking as if she might begin weeping at any moment. He went to her and leaned against her shoulder comfortingly. “What? What is it?”
Simba’s ears twitched violently at the sound of the scream behind him. “Oh gods!” Turning about, he began to sprint, praying with all his heart he would arrive in time. As he neared, he heard the distinct snarl of a lioness closing in for the kill, and the sound was familiar indeed. His eyes narrowed as he rounded a corner and saw Pumbaa wedged under a tree root, scrabbling desperately for release.
That damned Sasha lied to me, he thought. Well, we’ll see who gets thrown out of whose territory NOW!
A terrible snarl erupted from him as he leapt over the root, floating through the air in a graceful leap. He descended rapidly, crashing down with terrifying force in front of the lioness as she slid to a stop, a look of total surprise on her face. Simba lashed out, snarling, noting that this was not Sasha after all, but another lioness, much younger, in fact. No matter.
Timon leapt with joy as Simba joined battle with a fury that shook the earth. “Get her! Bite her head!” He capered atop Pumbaa’s rump gleefully as the two titans thrashed about, paws whipping through the air in an awesome display of chained fury.
The lioness backed back, claws whipping around in an effort to lash his face, but his mane deflected the blows as he closed in. Gathering himself, Simba launched himself at her, jaws spreading as he prepared to seize her throat--
--and then he gave a startled “WHUFF!” of surprise as her feet sank into his belly, knocking the wind from him. The world spun crazily, and he found himself lying on his back, the lioness pinning him to the ground, her hot breath billowing in his face as she bared her fangs at his throat. Stricken, sure he would be dead in a few more seconds, he looked up to meet her gaze...and saw the brilliant green eyes staring into his.
He had seen those eyes in a thousand dreams. “Nala?!”
The snarling grimace of the lioness vanished, her face transforming from awesome rage into awesome beauty. Her jaw dropped and she backed away, crowding into a tree trunk and staring at the stranger before her. “Is it really you?”
She gazed at him suspiciously. Was it possible that Taka would send someone to follow her? Nonsense. A male such as this he would have killed outright, or at least driven off. “Who are you?”
“It’s me! Simba.”
“Simba?” The name rolled oddly off her tongue as she looked at him. Funny, she had known a cub by the same name when she was a child...her eyes widened as she looked into his face and SAW him, oh gods, he was ALIVE!
“WHOAAAAW! A simultaneous explosion of joy erupted from the two as they rubbed heads together in greeting, filling the air with a cacophony of confused questions.
“But how did you--”
“It’s GREAT to see you!”
“It’s good to see YOU!”
“I thought you were--”
“HEY! WHAT’S GOIN’ ON HERE?!”
Simba grinned and introduced his companions to Nala, chuckling at Timon’s utter confusion. His mirth was short lived, as Nala looked at him, her face serious.
“Wait till everyone finds out you’ve been HERE all this time! And your mother...what will she think?”
Simba felt a mad rush of panic that nearly overwhelmed him. “She doesn’t have to know. Nobody has to know.”
“Of course they do! Everyone thinks you’re dead!”
He looked at her, shocked. “They do?”
“Yeah.” She lowered her gaze sadly. “Scar told us about the stampede.” She glanced up tentatively, afraid to meet his gaze.
Simba was awash with cold fear. “He did? What else did he tell you?”
“What else matters?! You’re alive! And that means...” she looked at him, a new look of awe on her face mixed with newborn hope. “You’re the king.”
Simba froze into immobile stillness. He watched numbly as Timon and Pumbaa transformed before his eyes, looking at him like some new kind of insect they’d never seen before. Before Timon could embroil himself into an argument with Nala, he sighed deeply. “Maybe you’d better go.”
Timon gaped. “It starts. You THINK you know a guy...”
Simba watched them leave, then grinned shamefacedly at Nala. “Timon and Pumbaa. You learn to love ‘em.” He fell silent as he saw Nala with her back to him, looking as if she might begin weeping at any moment. He went to her and leaned against her shoulder comfortingly. “What? What is it?”