SCENE 53:  DIVERGENCE

	Kidnapping a lion cub, Uhuru thought disgustedly, shaking his 
head.  What next?
	He was silent as he watched Skulk and his group of rebellious 
miscrants fade into the night.  It never seems to end, he thought 
disgustedly.  One trial after another.  He half jokingly wondered if he 
was being punished for the sins of one of his long dead anscestors.
	Sighing, he shoved the thought away.  He had been true enough to 
Aiheu's calling, and he knew it.  Perhaps with the removal of Shenzi's 
malign influence, things would go back to normal.  He hoped so; Uhuru 
was sorely sick of fighting, deception, and betrayal.  The past three 
years had seen enough of that.  But it seemed an insurmountable wedge 
had been driven between the children of Roh'kash and Aiehu, and he was 
helpless against it.
	He picked up a slight movement in his peripheral vision and turned 
to see Simba making his way toward him.  Grimacing, he sat up and headed 
toward the king.  Things were about to go from bad to worse, it seemed.  
The arena-like atmosphere of the Shi'khal had dissapated, and the hyenas 
and lions stood apart, polarized around their rulers like iron filings 
near a magnet.  The noise of conversation diminished as Simba moved to 
stand in front of his group of lionesses.  The hyenas parted to make way 
for Uhuru, who nodded at them.  The two leaders contemplated each other 
silently for a moment, then Uhuru crouched, extending a forepaw before 
him.  "Incosi aka Incosi.  I touch your mane."
	Simba breathed a silent sigh of relief.  "I feel it.  Rise, my 
friend."  He blinked wearily; the events of the past several days had 
exhausted him terribly.  Still, as he looked at the hyena standing 
before him, he felt supremely satisfied; his faith had been vindicated.  
His gaze moved to the hyenas standing to either side of Uhuru.  Their 
appearance was similar in all respects; the poor creatures were slat 
sided and thin, their grey coats dull and staring.  But they now stood 
shoulder to shoulder with a hyena that they had previously denounced not 
three days ago as a traitor.  Uhuru had given them back their faith as 
well.  Unlike Shenzi's ragtag lot of hooligans, they had not sided with 
him for personal gain, but because they knew he would never betray them 
to save himself.  Uhuru had returned their capacity to trust.  Now it 
was time to give them back their hope.
	Simba cleared his throat, a deep rumbling sound that carried 
clearly.  "I say this before the gods, and the great kings of the past: 
the ban which great Ahadi placed on scavenging in the Pride Lands is 
over and done."  Eyes widened and heads turned on both sides as Simba 
continued.  "There is no reason why you cannot live as Aiheu intended."
	For a heartbeat, dead silence reigned.  Then a raucous cheer arose 
from the hyenas as they began to dance with joy.  Uhuru sat amidst the 
tumlut, struck with wonder as his brethren flocked to Simba, falling 
prone before him and humbling themselves.  "Ebu Simba," they cried 
joyfully.  "Roh'mach aka Roh'mach!"
	Rafiki clapped the hyena on the shoulder, making him jump.  
"Congratulations, my friend.  You handled Shenzi well."
	"Not as well as you did," Uhuru grinned.  "You planned that, 
didn't you?  You knew I was going to win."
	"My boy," Rafiki chuckled, "I had no idea."  The mandrill walked 
to a low hummock of grass and sat down, grunting with relief.  "So!  
What now?  What are you going to do with yourself, now that you have the 
whole of the Pride Lands on your side?"
	"I don't know, to be honest."  Uhuru looked at him.  "I really 
don't like this, Rafiki.  Simba should have chosen someone else to do 
this."
	"Why?"
	"Maybe this could all have been avoided."
	"Indeed.  We could have avoided this.  We could still be fighting 
each other.  Don't sell yourself short, Uhuru."  Rafiki rubbed his 
friend between the ears affectionately.
	Uhuru grinned at him, then glanced at the crowd.  "Look at them," 
he whispered.
	Rafiki watched the hyenas as they streamed homeward in small 
groups, the night air filled with cries of happiness as they laughed and 
joked together, whooping gaily.
	"I've not seen them like this since my childhood," Uhuru said 
wonderingly.  "You can feel it."
	"Even so.  I told you of `The Peace of Asumini.'  Your children 
will know this as the beginning of `The Peace of Uhuru.'  A wonderful 
thing has been born, tonight.  Nurture it.  Care for it like you would 
your own son."
	"I want to!  By the gods, I cannot leave my people now!  But a son 
must bear love for his father, much as I do for you."  Uhuru looked at 
the mandrill, torn with indecision.  "How can I leave you like this?  
Who will help you out at the tree?  And don't you DARE tell me you'll 
get by, Rafiki; I'll not see you out in the fields pulling roots at your 
age!"
	Rafiki laughed and patted Uhuru's back.  "Not to worry, friend.   
I'll not argue that point with you.  I have friends in the mandrill 
villages who will be willing to trade.  There are enough strong backs 
there to keep me in my medicines."
	"But-"
	"But nothing.  Aiheu has shown you your place in this world.  
Don't refuse him."  Rafiki reached out with both arms and embraced his 
friend.  "Do not fret.  You are making the right decision."  Places his 
hand atop Uhuru's head.  "Aiheu abamami, Uhuru.  God bless.  And Uhuru, 
go propose to Brill today.  There is a saying among our people: `Harvest 
while the fruit awaits.'"
	The hyena smiled.  "You read my mind!"  He turned to leave, but 
froze, staring at the last remaining hyena who stood, silently, waiting 
for him.
	Rafiki peered at the figure.  "Ah, is that her?"
      "Yes," Uhuru said, captivated.  "Isn't she beautiful?"
	Rafiki scratched his head, musing over the hyannic features.  "Er, 
ah, yes, of course.  Her beauty shines from within,"  he said 
truthfully.
      "Doesn't it?"  Uhuru agreed.  He padded over to Brill, nuzzling 
her on the cheek.  She returned his caresses, then leaned on his 
shoulder, her head tucked under his.  Rafiki watched as the two walked 
slowly away, their shapes fading into the darkness.


CHAPTER 54:  FEELING HIS AGE

	Life returned to some semblance of normality in the Pride Lands.  
Simba and Nala had a son named Tanabi.  He married his childhood friend 
Misha, and not surprisingly, she was soon ready to kindle the next 
generation.
	Rafiki, by contrast, still lived alone, and his premature aging, 
like a cheetah, was making a swift rush to its victim.  Only his skill 
in pharmacology kept him active and alert.
	The early morning mists rested lightly upon the African plain, the 
soft gray blanket rolling gently across the land, broken here and there 
by the jutting crowns of the great trees.  One such tree in particular, 
a huge baobab, dominated its surroundings, seeming to watch over the 
countryside with a monarch's benevolence.
	Rafiki sat quietly in its uppermost branches, cleaning his teeth 
with the frayed end of an acacia twig as he waited for the dawn.  His 
eyes peered interestedly out over the otherworldly landscape which lay 
before him, sensing the frenzied hum of activity hidden in the mists 
below, waiting patiently with the sure knowledge of one who has stood 
such guard many times, a wizened steward of the land keeping careful 
watch over his wards.
	The air around him was filled with the reddish gold of sunrise as 
the fiery orb made its appearance, bathing the land below in its warm 
rays.  A gentle breeze ruffled his brow, setting the leaves around him 
to rustling.  He smiled to himself as he listened to them, talking 
amongst themselves about the funny old mandrill in their secret leaf 
language.  Peering below, he watched with interest as the breeze tore 
great rents in the mists, opening holes through which he could see clear 
down to the ground below.
	He leaned forward, eyes focusing sharply as he caught signs of 
movement. Rafiki smiled and relaxed as he recognized the group of 
lionesses, weary and footsore as they padded slowly home after the 
night's hunt.  Lifting his gaze, he looked out over the thinning mists 
to the outthrust shape of Pride Rock, its massive shape looming in the 
distance.  They had quite a way to go, yet; it would probably be well 
into midmorning before they arrived, he thought.
	He clambered slowly down the branches to his home in the heart of 
the baobab, hearing the soft tinkle and clink of his wood and bone wind 
chimes as they swayed in the breeze.  Humming a little ditty in time to 
the sound, he wandered over to the small shrine set in a niche in the 
bole of the tree.  Picking up a small bowl of ochre, he began to daub 
gently at the half finished portrait of Habusu, adding the fringes of a 
reddish mane to the head and shoulders.  He paused for a moment, 
uncertain, then sighed, setting down the bowl and dusting off his 
fingers.  His heart was not into painting, today, and he had no wish to 
botch the job with a half-hearted attempt.  He gazed around the baobab, 
feeling suddenly lost, the warm tinkling of the chimes now a lost and 
lonely sound, reflecting what he felt inside.
	He felt so old.  What he had tried to deny to himself was too 
obvious to ignore.  He was not just old on the outside, and the time was 
not too distant when Minshasa would come and take him away with her.
	He blinked suddenly as a guttural grunt sounded from below.  
Peering down, he saw a lioness sitting under his tree.  Rafiki smiled as 
he recognized Uzuri peering upwards at him.  "Hello, madam."
	"Good morning, Rafiki!  Up early again, eh?"
	"As always."  He nodded to her.  "How did you fare last night?"
	"Pfft!"  She snorted.  "A waste of time; we saw only a few 
gazelle, and they must have had cheetah blood in them somewhere."  She 
shook her head.  "Gods, they were fast!"
	He chuckled.  "Not to worry, I'm sure you'll fare better next 
time."
	"Are you still going to come by and check on Misha?"
	"Yes, of course."
	"Why don't you come with me, then?  It's a long journey to make by 
yourself, and I would certainly enjoy the company."  She looked at him 
inquiringly.  "Unless you've got something else to do?  I don't want to 
interrupt anything important."
	A smile lit his face as he picked up his staff and descended to 
stand next to her.  "You twisted my arm."
	She smiled at him as they began to move off.  "It's one of those 
days that makes you happy just to be alive." 
	He looked at his friend and nodded.  "Yes.  I know what you mean." 
As they made their way slowly along, he mentally berated himself for 
being so gloomy.  There had been a time, he thought ruefully, when he 
could count friends like Uzuri on the fingers of one hand, and beautiful 
mornings like this had been few and far between.



SCENE 55:  MAKEDDE'S REST

	Once Makedde said he prayed he would not die on a rainy day, but 
that he would go on a beautiful day.  He wanted to die with reminders of 
Aiheu's beauty to comfort those he left behind.
	Indeed, just as the sun gilded the perfumed grass, and the wind 
swept the trees to wordless melody, Zazu came flying to Rafiki's tree 
with urgency in every word.  "Come quick, your brother's dying!"
	Rafiki grabbed a gourd with painkillers, but took nothing else.  
There was no need.  This was an expected death, one that crept on its 
victim with the determination of wild dogs on a blood trail.
	He ran as quickly as he could, which was not very fast.  His 
pulses pounded, and beads of sweat popped up on his aging brow.  Still, 
he pressed himself to make the effort.  He knew his brother would do the 
same for him.
	By the time he got to Makedde's cave, the old mandrill was lying 
still on a bed of fresh hay gathered by a friend.  The hay smelled like 
a morning meadow, masking the dampness of the cave.  Still there was 
another lingering smell--the smell of death.  Perhaps only a shaman like 
himself could smell it, but it was unmistakable.
	"Is he dead?" Rafiki asked Zazu.
	Makedde opened his eyes.  "Not yet."  He reached out weakly with 
his hand.  Rafiki took it.  "I knew you'd come."  He smiled.  "Zazu 
didn't get you out of bed, did he?"  Makedde's head fell over and hand 
went limp.
	"Oh no," Rafiki said, giving the limp hand a little squeeze and 
putting it softly on his brother's chest.  "Oh no."  Tears welled up in 
his eyes.  "He was the last of my family.  Now I am all that's left," 
Rafiki told Zazu.
	"The last of your family?  Don't be ridiculous.  I mean there's 
Simba, Nala, Misha, and don't forget Uzuri."
	"Or you?"
	Zazu preened his wing feathers.  "Well yes, actually.  And I'm 
sure you could think of others too."
	Rafiki mused over this later as he sat up in the top of his 
baobab.  He smiled to himself, fresh tears tracking down his face as he 
thought of the other members of his family, long gone in the past.  
Busara's visage sprang up, then his mother's.  Kinara, ever complaining 
about old Maloki.  Asumini, Penda...he sighed deeply.
	Cool light flared at his back, and he turned to see a cub sitting 
in front of him.  The fact that the cub was hanging in mid air sixty 
feet off the ground was irrelevant as he recognized the features.  
"Taka!"
	A smile appeared on Taka's face as he rubbed against Rafiki's 
ankles.  "Hello, Uncle."
	Reflexively, Rafiki felt at the pouch for his side, then stopped 
himself.  It had been ages since he last had a use for it; what use had 
an old mandrill now for....
	His throat closed as his palm slipped around the Tiko root in the 
pouch.  He withdrew it, his hand trembling.
	The reaction was immediate.  The cub sat upright, haunches splayed 
against nothingness as he fought to keep his balance.
	"Who do you love?" Rafiki whispered.
	"You, Uncle `Fiki."
	"How much do you love me?"
	"More than life."
	Rafiki dropped the snack and Taka snapped it up.  "I really do, 
you know, no matter what I may have said!"  Tears began to run down his 
cheeks.  "Please forgive me!"
	"Of course I do, Fru Fru," he said, stroking the soft fur of 
Taka's face lovingly.  "You don't have to hide from me."
	The cub bowed his head.  The light flared again, brighter this 
time.  Rafiki squinted, unable to make out the features.  "Taka?"
	A wave of feeling washed over him as the light touched his face. 
"How could you still love me?"  
	"I always saw that light.  It got buried deeper and deeper through 
the years, but never so deep that I couldn't see it."
	The light shifted for a moment, then coalesced into the familiar 
form of the lion.  His once dark mane now shone, shot through with 
brilliant strands of light as he looked at Rafiki. "Service," he said.  
"I am here to serve, and through service find growth and peace."  He 
stepped forward and nuzzled Rafiki.  "You are ripe with knowledge, 
Rafiki.  It is time for you to bear fruit."
	"I don't understand."
	"The bond between Ka and flesh is strong, but it cannot last 
forever.  You must seek out someone to pass on your wisdom to, before it 
is lost to the winds."
	"I tried!  I tried, but Aiheu had other plans for Uhuru.  He has 
found his place."  Tears threatened Rafiki again, and he wiped them 
away.  "I have no one else."
	"I do not speak of the hyena.  The tree of knowledge starts at the 
roots; try looking there first."  Taka smiled at him.  "You will find 
the fields  much more fertile than when you left."  He reached out and 
placed a paw on Rafiki's shoulder.  "It is imperative you not be hasty 
to accept unwanted advice.  Be brave in making the hard decision.  
Respect the first impression."  He withdrew slowly.  "I must go, Uncle.  
You have tarried too long with me.  Return to your home."
	"Go now?"
	"Yes, now.  Hurry."
	Rafiki straightened up, blinking.  The leaves of his tree swayed 
gently as he shook off the effects of the vision.
	"Rafiki?"
	"Who calls?"
	"Misha."
	At the very mention of that name, Rafiki lit up like the sun. The 
lioness came to his entranceway.  "I had an accident."
	It was only a small cut on her shoulder, but when Rafiki saw it, 
he was very pained.  Misha saw his tear stained face.
	"Come now, it's not that bad.  I almost didn't come."
	"Not the cut, my dear.  I just...."  He put his arms around her 
neck and kissed her cheek.  "I just needed a friend tonight.  My brother 
died today."
	Her ears laid back.  "I'm so sorry."
	"Thank you.  It was expected, you know.  I guess they will say the 
same thing about me someday: `the old ape had to go sometime.'  I can 
remember your great grandfather.  He was my dear friend and to you a 
worthy ancestor."
	"I don't know whether to envy you or pity you," she said frankly.  
"Who wants to outlive all their friends?"  She looked at the tears that 
started in his eyes and regretted saying it.  Nuzzling him, she asked 
"Why won't you come live with us at Pride Rock?  It may seem a little 
crowded at first, but we all love you.  You know I have invited you many 
times."
	"And I have thanked you many times."
	Her face drew down in a frown.  "You are going to say no again, 
aren't you?"
	"My dear little Misha.  My work takes me into the forest.  I would 
never get my herbs if I lived there.  I have a place for everything, and 
everything in its place.  Such as it is, this tree has been my home for 
most of my life.  Most likely I shall die here."  He kissed her.  
"Still, every time you ask me, I feel warm inside."
	"Then I must ask more often."
	He quickly retrieved some heal-all and crushed it into a paste.  
This he put on the wound with all the care he could muster.  "There, 
that should feel better."
	"It sure does."  She touched his cheek with her warm tongue.
	"Take care of yourself, honey tree," Rafiki said.
	"I'm not in a hurry," she replied.  "Sit down.  We'll talk."
	With a smile that made his old face beautiful, he sat cross-legged 
on the ground.  She came and laid her large, shapely head in his lap.  
Tears of grief and love flowed freely as he stroked her soft fur.

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