by Yolanda King
Once Upon A Time In Africa
Once Upon A Time In Africa
Copyright
Once Upon A Time In Africa
“Well, sit down then and I'll tell you a story,” grandma Rose told her four grandchildren, Lisa, Tommy, Brad and April. Grandma Rose was sitting in a rocking chair on the back porch. It was one of those humid summer evenings where the air was perfectly still. Home-made ice tea stood in a pitcher on the rickety wooden table. Grandpa Jeff pushed the creaking back door open with his shoulder and placed a tray with six glasses on the table. He poured each of them some ice tea and sat down on the porch steps. The four young children crowded eagerly around their grandmother's feet and looked at her expectantly.
“It was on a fine evening in spring about fifty years ago. Grandpa Jeff and I had just met a few weeks previously. My mom didn't like him so we could only see each other in secret.” “How about your dad, did he like grandpa Jeff?” Tommy asked. Grandma Rose smiled, “Oh, he liked him very much. He knew we were seeing each other and he'd promised me to convince mom to let us marry. Anyway, back to my story. We were already living here, in the same small town, just that there were fewer houses back then. Your grandfather and I were going for a walk out in the fields – in those times the fields began right behind our house – and we heard the church bell chime in the distance. At the first chime I felt rather funny, there was this tingling sensation running through me from head to toe. I stopped walking and stared at your grandfather with wide eyes. At the second chime my bones started aching and the ache made me groan. Grandpa Jeff was really worried at that point but didn't know what to do, except grab me and stroke my head. Then I noticed that my clothes were suddenly very ill-fitting, hanging off me like a tent. Grandpa had let go of me and was getting taller and taller, whereas I was shrinking; and I couldn't help it!”
“When the bell chimed ten o`clock your grandma had disappeared!” grandpa Jeff explained.
“Where was she?” April wanted to know.
Grandpa shrugged, “She wasn't with me anymore, that's for sure. As to where she'd gone, well, that's quite bizarre indeed. I, however, was shocked. When I had halfway gathered my wits I looked about me and called her name, but there was nothing but silence and a soft breeze rustling in the trees. I was frantic with worry!”
“I had shrunk and vanished,” grandma continued, “but only where grandpa was standing, uncomprehending. Where I reappeared I was a lioness! I looked down my furry chest to my big paws. I lifted one and brought it up to my nose to sniff it, then I knocked myself on the head.
“In Africa,” a zebra answered.
“Why?”
“Because we needed a new crew member,” replied an elephant.
“Crew member?” I asked, dumbfounded. “What for?”
“Our new performance,” growled a leopard.
I lifted a paw to silence them, “Could someone speak plainly, please? It's all gibberish to me.”
“Every year we, the crew, stage a new play,” chirped a gazelle. “It's high season soon and the tourists will be pouring in. They always want to see action and drama, so we give them what they want. Mrs. Queer here,” she pointed at a mighty buffalo, “writes a new script every year. To make it more thrilling, we usually get at least one outsider to perform with us throughout the season. This year it's you.”
I eyed Mrs. Queer.
“Why me?” I asked, even more suspicious now.
“Because you happen to be young and healthy, you like to bend or break rules but most importantly, you're a fighter. And that's exactly what we need this time.”
“How did you find me?”
“With this machine,” the elephant trumpeted and stepped aside to show me what we now call a computer. However, it was a very special computer.
“How does it work?” I asked, curious.
The gazelle waved me over. The computer was sitting on a stump. It didn't have a keyboard but two speakers as well as a mike. There were no cables to connect it -
“You start it by pulling this lever.”
The computer hummed and beeped, then blinked into life. The screen emanated an orange glow and the letters
“Twins, baby girl and baby boy, four months old, Caucasian,” said the gazelle into the mike.
The screen showed us a selection of twins, some with fair, others with dark or red hair, and the gazelle chose two redheads. Their mother was breast feeding them.
“These,” the gazelle decided. “Turn them into lion cubs.”
The computer said, “Countdown; 10, 8, 6, 4, 2, 0.”
On zero, I had two cubs dozing between my front paws. And an utterly bewildered, then horrified mother on the screen.
“Don't worry,” said the gazelle when she noticed the concerned look on my face, “it'll only seem like ten seconds to the mother, and to your boyfriend, for that matter, before you're back, even though you'll be performing with us for...some time.”
“How's that possible?”
“We don't know but it works,” answered the leopard. “We've been doing it for many years now.”
“Do you desire anything else?” asked the computer with its metallic voice.
“No, thank you. That'd be it for the time being,” said the gazelle, pushed the lever back and the screen went blank.
“It can speak, too?” I wanted to know.
“Yes, when it's not too lazy. If it is, it'll only flash the writing on the screen.”
“Let me get this straight,” I said after a moment. “You tell the computer your criteria and it simply chooses whatever matches them most accurately?”
The gazelle nodded.
“It's getting late, let's go to our camp,” suggested the elephant, and we, my whole entourage of approximately a dozen beasts and I, trudged some miles through open grassland until we reached a grove. Since the cubs were still asleep, the elephant carried them on his back, holding them in place with his trunk so that they wouldn't slide off.
When I saw the grove I stopped dead in my tracks because I couldn't believe my eyes: there were hammocks fastened between the trees, tents pitched up around campfires, and velvet cushions spread on the ground. There were piles of food scattered about, and the cacophony of noises from all the animals was deafening. When we approached they fell silent one by one and turned around to look at us.
A bird chirped, “There they are! Welcome!”
Someone pulled on a liana and a huge banner that was tied to two trees became visible. It read: Welcome! Benvenuti Bienvenidos! Bienvenue! Willkommen! Join and have fun!
And immediately, in unison, lions roared, elephants trumpeted, birds sang, zebras neighed, and all the other animals in their own language welcomed the newcomers with a song, awfully off-key, but nonetheless with the best intentions, “If you're happy and you know it – invite them in. If you're happy and you know it – invite them in. If you're happy and you know it and you really want to show it if you're happy and you know it – invite them in. Hurray!”
While they were singing they moved to make room for me and the cubs. They parted and formed a guard of honor that led us directly to the ma
in campfire. A sloth in a nearby hammock eyed us balefully before it grunted and turned the other way. The gazelle sat down on her hind legs, crossing them, and Mrs. Queer, the buffalo, I and the cubs, who were awake by now and walking next to me, followed her example. Well, we didn't sit down like the gazelle, of course, which did look rather funny. We sat down the way lions are supposed to sit. The elephant trumpeted loudly and said, “Attention everybody! Gracile...”
“That's me,” hissed the gazelle into my ear.
“....and Mrs. Queer are now going to inform the lioness of everything she needs to know for this year's play. I understand that you're curious to find out more about our heroine but give her time to acclimatize. Tomorrow will be time enough for a proper Meet & Greet.”
He waited until the animals had grudgingly dispersed, then lay down and grumbled, “It's the same hassle with them every year. You'd think they'd comprehended the procedure by now.”
He shook his head, then curled up like a cat, closed his eyes and fell instantly asleep, loud snoring accompanying his slumber.
“Well, what's the play about then?” I asked when only the elephant's loud snoring was audible.
“We usually have one main play – the one you'll be starring in – as well as some minor ones, to give you the occasional day of rest. You're scheduled to play four times a week for four months straight.”
“Four months!” I exclaimed, shocked.
“Afterwards we'll retransform you into your human form and you can go home,” replied Mrs. Queer, ignoring my interjection.
“What if I don't want to be part of any of this?”
“Too bad, you're stuck with us,” shrugged Gracile, “but trust me, you'll enjoy it.”
“Hmph,” I humphed.
“To answer your initial question,” continued Mrs. Queer, “you're going to have to defend and rescue your cubs from the tourists.”
“You don't seriously think that anyone will be dumb enough to cuddle a lion cub, let alone try to steal it?” I asked derisively.
“You have no idea!” snorted Mrs. Queer.
“We've seen the strangest things around here,“ confirmed Gracile.
“Anyway, here's your script.” Mrs Queer handed me one sheet of paper in bold print. “Rehearsals begin in three days. If you have any questions, please ask.”
“As a matter of fact, I do have one more question. Is everyone but me and the cubs a real wild animal or are there others like us?”
Gracile shook her head, “You're the only ones.”
“Alright, if that's it, I'll show you to your camp site,” she said after a moment, whereupon we stood up. I nudged the cubs to follow me and we silently wove our way through the bodies of the sleeping animals until we arrived at the place that was going to be our home for the ensuing four months. I said good night and the cubs and I entered the spacious tent that had been provided for us. There were toys for the cubs, some dried meat for supper, soft cushions and a few blankets and even a row of books.
The three of us had supper, played for a little while and went to sleep after I had read a bedtime story to the cubs.
After breakfast the next morning each animal living in the camp stopped by to introduce itself and exchange a few pleasantries. They came by aligned according to size, from small to tall, and species. Which means that I didn't solely have to chat with one or two animals but with entire families simultaneously, and everyone demanded my full and undivided attention. As the morning wore on and there was still no end to the introductions, I started to get tired. After all, it had been an eventful one and a half days! My eyes drooped more and more, and so as not to offend anyone I excused myself, shooed everyone away and put up a “Do Not Disturb” sign that I found inside our spacious tent. I was clearly not the first or only outsider with a craving for peace! However, this morning's visitors had all brought us a bit of food as a welcome gift, fruit, nuts, grains, dried and fresh meat as well as fish – it would be sufficient for lunch and dinner. We had hardly sat down, stomachs growling, when the buffalo, Mrs. Queer, walked in, though. I sighed but invited him to join us nonetheless.
“If you're hungry, dig in. There's plenty,” I told him but he shook his head.
“I see you've had a busy day so far,” he said.
“That's right. That' exactly why I placed the “Do Not Disturb” sign by the flap”, I remarked.
“I noticed,” he smiled. “And I promise I won't take up much of your time. I only came by to tell you that one of my assistants will pick you up later this afternoon to provide you with more information on the proceedings of the next weeks. I apologize but I can't do it myself because I'm busy with the first rehearsals.”
Meanwhile the cubs had finished eating and dozed off – they had been playing for hours – and even I was so overwhelmed that I nodded off myself.
Some hours later, the sun had long passed the zenith, we were woken up by the stamping of hooves and a loud clearing of the throat by someone standing in front of the tent. I dragged myself up and pulled the flap aside but all I saw were a pair of extremely long front legs. I gazed upwards and saw a long neck which bent down toward me. Small brown eyes smiled at me and the giraffe said, “Hi, I'm Sammy, Mrs. Queer's assistant.”
“Mrs. Queer,” I said pensively. I took a deep breath and ventured, knowing fully well that my question could be perceived as rude, “Is the name any indication of his sexual preferences?”
Sammy laughed, “Indeed it is! He's pretty good at hiding it, though, and you wouldn't notice it unless you saw him with his partner, Gruff, a really tough guy. Mrs. Queer's sole importance are the plays and he takes himself very.......seriously when it comes to the annual performances. Are you ready to go?” she continued.
I nodded, told the cubs to stay put and left with Sammy.
“Does he get an award or a prize if the animals are happy and satisfied at the end of the season, or why is he so intently focused on the success of the performances?”
“It's to prove to Gruff that he can be a man, too: tough, organized, precise, someone the others pay respect to.”
“Maybe he should change partners.”
“We've suggested that a few times but he won't hear of it. Anyway, Mrs. Queer asked me to explain to you how we run things. As you already know, you're going to play four times a week with rehearsals starting in a couple of days. Rehearsals are every day – they usually last five to eight hours – Mrs. Queer is rather pedantic about them. He wants everything to be perfect. Prepare yourself for long working hours. Rehearsals start at eight in the morning, at noon there's a one hour lunch break, and the afternoon rehearsals continue until Mrs. Queer is satisfied.”
“Is he German or what?” I grumbled.
“Not that I know,” Sammy replied, serious. “However, we do get many German visitors and he might have picked up the one odd habit here or there. But as long as you're punctual and give your best he's truly a nice chap.”
“He's bossy and full of himself!”
“He is, but only because Gruff is wearing the pants at home. There are three weeks of rehearsals, after that you must know your role by heart.”
“What happens if I don't?” I asked, slightly belligerent.
“It has never happened and it won't, trust me,“ said Sammy, one hundred percent convinced. “Playing hours are flexible,” she continued. “The main play is only performed for big groups. Once the season starts one of the park rangers stops by every morning to let us know what's on the agenda for the day. If a big group is scheduled for let's say three in the afternoon, everyone participating in the play will be arranged and in place according to the script by two forty-five. Which reminds me: you've been given your text – make sure you've studied it well before the first rehearsal. I
t'll make things with Mrs. Queer less queer,“ Sammy giggled.
For some minutes I was silently digesting what I'd just heard.
“Why isn't anyone of you behaving like a real wild animal?” I wondered. “You live peacefully together in a large camp, you share your food, and you perform for tourists. You're supposed to fight and kill each other – survival of the fittest, you know?”
Sammy chuckled good-naturedly, “We used to be that way but our numbers were slowly decreasing. One day, hippo Rotund approached a park ranger with the idea of this camp, them feeding us and us playing together and helping each other instead of viewing each other as prey. Rotund organized a meeting with all the alpha animals and presented them with his idea. Of course, not everyone agreed, especially the leopards and lions were outraged at this suggestion. However, majority ruled. The camp came into existence, and despite initial setbacks we're all happy with the arrangement now. It has another major advantage: it reduces emission.”
“Huh?”
“Tourists and park rangers alike don't have to zigzag throughout the entire park because minor and major plays are performed along the main safari route. They get to see a vast variety of animals in a short time, which usually leaves them satisfied. Thus, the park saves a lot of money that otherwise would have to be spent on gas and maintenance – it can now be used for our food.”
I mulled this over for awhile.
“But isn't your park overpopulated?”
“No. Only one offspring is allowed per couple, and we're only permitted to reproduce every seven years. That has changed our sexual demeanor, though. Now we don't lie together when the female is in heat and ready to conceive, now we lie together for fun and pleasure. We enjoy that very much!”
Sammy had a wide grin on her face.
“Just like us humans,” I said. I shook my head.
“Oh, no sex is the best protection, wouldn't you agree? When the female is in heat, we abstain.”
