“Blue?”
“Yes. Sky blue. No, there are clouds and...it's the sky!”
Rafiki stroked her head lovingly. “The sky?”
“Yes! I can see the clouds move!”
Gur’bruk smiled. “Are there birds in the sky, dear?”
“A red bird. Can you see him, Rafiki?”
“Yes.” He wiped away his tears quickly and began to fondle her shoulder and arm while there was still time.
“That red bird is your pain,” Gur’bruk. “It’s flying away. Can you feel it flying away? Getting less and less?”
“Yes.” Her jaw trembled. "Yes, it's going. Thank the gods, it's finally going. It's finally....oh look, it’s Ugas! Ugas! My beloved has come back for me! He’s come back for...." Her breath went out.
Gur’bruk looks up, heartbroken. “Rafiki....”
“I know.” The mandrill touched Gur’bruk’s cheek and fondled Kambra’s neck. “I need a moment alone with her. Please give me that, but don’t tell Makaka she’s dead. I want to tell him myself.”
Gur’bruk found Makaka still sitting anxiously at the mouth of the cave waiting for some word on her condition.
“How is she?”
“Resting peacefully,” Gur’bruk said.
“Well, is she going to be all right?”
Kambra nuzzled Makaka. “Ask Rafiki. But I wouldn’t go in there just yet--he’s very busy.” She slinked off with Gur’bruk, anxious to be clear of the cave before the tears started.
Makaka turned to Anasa. “I know Rafiki was close to her, but so was I. Tell me if I’m wrong, but I think I ought to be in there. I mean, those two got in.”
“They came to help,” Anasa said firmly. “You should show them respect.”
“I’m sorry.” He hugged her. “I don’t know what I’d do if she died. Really, I don’t.”
Meanwhile, Rafiki swept Uzuri’s eyes closed and gently sealed them with a small drop of Dwe’dwe resin. “You must look good, old girl. Your son is coming for a last look-see.”
He pushed her claws back in and smoothed her ears back. He gently put her tongue back between her teeth and lifted her jaw, bracing it up with an arm so that she looked asleep. Then from the locket around his neck he took some silverleaf and rubbed it between his hands, stroking it lovingly into her fur along with his tears. “I want you to smell nice, old girl. I wish I’d had jasmine--it was Penda’s favorite. There now, you look presentable.”
Suddenly he began to sob. “Oh gods, you were always beautiful to me!” He grabbed her paw, giving it a squeeze, kissing it and holding it to his cheek. “Uzuri, my beautiful Uzuri! Remember when we first met? How young we were? Soon we’ll both be fresh and new, my beloved. Your shoulder won’t be stiff anymore.” He laid her paw down and gently ran his fingertips over her bad shoulder. “I bet half the time it wasn’t even hurting, you little trickster. You just wanted my attention.” Tears coursed down his cheeks. “I didn’t mind it one bit. Not one bit. We had an understanding, you and I.”
Makaka sat in anticipation for several more minutes, but loyally he had not moved a single inch. Nor would he if it took days.
“Rafiki?” he called. “Can I come in now? Will she see me?”
The old mandrill came out of the cave. He had a relieved look on his face, and Makaka breathed a sigh. “Good news?”
Rafiki said, “Yes. No more pain. It’s over.”
“Over so soon? You’re a genius, Rafiki! How did you do it?”
Seeing that Makaka did not understand, Rafiki said, “It’s over. Over for good.”
“Over?” Makaka pushed past him and ran into the cave. “Mother? Mother??”
In the dark, he encountered Uzuri’s still warm body. Instinctively he knew the truth. “Oh Gods!” He fell on her body, stroking her neck and kissing her still face. “Mother! Oh Gods! Don’t leave me! Come back, Mother! Don’t leave me!”
Makaka felt the familiar hand of Rafiki on his shoulder. “Son, it was her time. She lived a long life. She was happy. She was loved. You should remember the good she did and be glad.”
Makaka looked around at him in the dark. “How can you say that like it was nothing? I thought you loved her as much as I did! I thought she was your friend!”
Rafiki looked at him, a soft smile on his face and a light in his eyes that made his plain face absolutely beautiful. “Maybe I know something that you don’t. Maybe your mother isn’t out there somewhere.” He patted his chest. “Maybe she’s right in here.”
Tears flooded Makaka’s eyes and he took the frail mandrill in his arms. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”
“I know.”
“I have a father too. I love him and I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings.”
“You keep talking like that and I WILL cry.” Rafiki kissed him on the cheek. “I must go now, Makaka my son. You stay here with your mother and pray over her, then you get Misha and Swala to help you move her. You’ll also want them to tell the pride sisters and the King.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going on a journey. I had to delay it because of Uzuri, but now I can’t wait any longer. Take care of yourself, my son. You’re in charge till I get back. That might be a very long time.”
Rafiki left the cave without looking back. He didn’t want Makaka to know it was the last time they would meet in this world.
Anasa was waiting for him. “Does he know yet?”
“No. And just you remember what we discussed.” Rafiki kissed her cheek. “Wait until the next full moon, then tell him that Zazu found me by Elephant Kopje.”
She ran her fingertips around Rafiki’s eye and touched him beneath the chin. “Aiheu abamami.”
“Aiheu abamami,” he said, taking her hand and kissing it. “No tears now. You must be strong for his sake. Watch over him for me. And remember, not a word.” Rafiki took the locket of Mano’s fur and placed it around her neck. “Give this to him later. I won’t need it where I’m going.”
The old mandrill took up his staff and turned toward the east. He looked ahead, not at the trees or even the horizon, but beyond the sun and moon where Minshasa waited for him.
THE END: UNDER THE ACACIAS
LEGAL NOTE:
This original copyrighted work is based on Walt Disney's feature film, "The Lion King." Elements taken directly from “The Lion King” are the property of The Walt Disney Company. "Under the Broad Acacias" is distributed free of charge excepting reasonable distribution costs. Quoting passages from our work, writing original pieces based on our work, or using characters we created is fine as long as you secure prior approval. That begins by sending either of us a copy of the work.
Our e-mail addresses are:
John H. Burkitt: john.burkitt@nashville.com
David A. Morris:damorris@wilmington.net
Your comments on our work, pro and con, are always welcome.
This story is a fictional work, but we don’t claim that any resemblance to any characters living or dead is purely coincidental. With love and respect, we acknowledge the debt we owe to those who taught us how to laugh and cry. Without acting as clear models for any one character, many great souls, some non-human, have been woven deeply into the fabric of our lives only to end up in “Under the Acacias.”