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.
CHAPTER 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."