by Yolanda King
I shook my head again.
“Meet our make-up artist, Adam aka Beautification!” Sammy suddenly cried. A zebra was leaning over a lion and combing his mane, but turned around when he heard Sammy.
“Hiya! You must be this year's protagonist. I'd like to chat with you but I gotta get Mr. Vain here ready for his appearance.”
“My name is Sebastian, not Mr. Vain,” the lion grumbled, but Adam ignored him.
“He has to hunt down a gazelle, and he certainly has to look his best.”
“Oh, shut up!” Sebastian growled, and Adam aka Beautification winked at me with a twinkle in his eye. A second later he slapped Sebastian on the shoulder and said, “Ready to show them who's the King, Mr. Vain.”
Sebastian shook his mane and strutted off.
“If you want to see him in action, we'd better go,“ said Sammy and motioned to me to follow her. I nodded to Adam and left with Sammy. We walked down the gravel road until we came upon an area that was sealed off.
“That's our stage director, Meatball, standing next to Mr. Vain,” Sammy pointed at a crocodile whose body was as round as a meatball, his head pointy and small in comparison, his four stubby legs hardly able to support him.
“And over there, with Mrs. Queer and the gazelle who's going to be Mr. Vain's prey, is our light artist, Lighting, the most charming wildebeest-lady you've ever met. Rehearsals should begin presently. Would you like to watch?”
“I'd love to.”
“Tell me,“ I said after a moment, “what do you need a light artist for?”
“Oh, she arranges the actors in such a way that the light reflects spectacularly off their fur, which, of course, changes depending on the time of day and weather conditions. By the way, have I mentioned our Special Effects guy yet? He's responsible for the ketchup you'll be seeing shortly. I don't particularly like him, he's so arrogant. We call him “Cheetah the Haughty” behind his back, and many openly to his face, but his real name is Jason.”
Then Mrs. Queer called everyone to attention. The gazelle wandered over to her herd and Mr. Vain hid in the tall grass, ready to pounce.
“Ready? Action!” Mrs. Queer called.
Mr. Vain sneaked behind the gazelles. As soon as they smelled him they darted away with Mr. Vain pursuing them. He singled out one gazelle, separated her from the others and chased her until she was too exhausted to continue. She stumbled over her legs, fell and lay motionless. Mr. Vain did not hesitate and pounced, biting the gazelle in the throat. Instantly, there was blood everywhere.
“Cut!” yelled Mrs. Queer and Mr. Vain let go of the gazelle, who got up, cursing madly.
“Screw you, Mr. V! You aren't supposed to lie on me, pressing me down with your weight. You are to pretend! Bastard!” The gazelle was fuming, and Mrs. Queer was not content either.
“You two, don't turn your backs on us, face us!” he hollered. “The visitors need to see what you're doing. Let's repeat the scene.”
The actors went back to their previous positions, and when the make-up artist, Adam aka Beautification, had washed the ketchup out of the gazelle's fur, Mrs. Queer called, “Action!”
Everything happened just like before. Well, almost. This time the gazelle allowed Mr. Vain to come very close and then she kicked him right into the face. The ketchup balloon he was carrying inside his mouth burst and he spit it out in disgust, spraying ketchup all over his chest.
“Cut!” Mrs. Queer signalled for both of them to come over. “For crying out loud, what the hell is wrong with you? If either of you fucks up one more time, you're out! Is that clear?”
Both Mr. Vain and the gazelle nodded. They returned to their positions once again. I wasn't interested in the further unfolding of the play, although it was very funny to watch them bicker, so Sammy and I left. Besides, my cubs were waiting. I had to make sure they were doing fine.
“What other plays are there?” I asked while we were walking back to my tent.
“An elephant protecting her young, trampling down a couple of cheetahs; a rhino attacking a tourist by an artificial pond and crocodiles fighting over food.”
“Sounds good,“ I responded, and I meant it. Considering that I had been human not too long ago, I'd have been interested in these spectacles myself, I'd have found them thrilling. And they still were. I definitely intended to go watch them.
“Is it ok if I take the remaining time until the beginning of my own rehearsals off? Because I could really do with a time-out. These past two days have been rather overwhelming. I'm still trying to get my bearings.”
Sammy said, “Most certainly. I'll see to it personally that you're left alone.”
“Thank you.”
She brought me back to my tent and said, “I'll accompany you to your first rehearsal.“
Then she said goodbye and I slumped down on the ground, relieved to be alone with my cubs who immediately snuggled up to me.
I barely left my tent the next two days. I didn't want to see anyone, hear anything. The cubs and I played, dozed, ate, played some more, strolled around the tent occasionally, and I read whenever the cubs spared me a moment. If I had had a wish, I'd have wished to be back home with grandpa Jeff. That wasn't written in the stars, though. And sure enough, Sammy knocked on my tent at 7.30 sharp a couple of days later.
“Ready? Let's go. Bring the cubs and the script and we're off.”
On the way to the location she said, “No mask for the first two weeks, we gotta work on the basics before we get down to the details.”
“That's fine with me. Frankly, I just want to get over and done with the whole thing and leave.”
Sammy laughed good-naturedly, “Relax. I'm pretty sure you'll get the hang of it and enjoy yourself.”
I preferred to remain silent. Whatever I had to say to that wouldn't have been very nice. We were the last ones to arrive as the cubs dilly-dallied and needed constant reminding of using their paws for walking, not playing.
Mrs. Queer was delighted to see us. He checked his watch and remarked, “7.46. You're way ahead of time, I'm impressed.”
He slapped me on the shoulder.
“You do that one more time and your lover can rake up the pieces that once used to be you,” I growled. I was in an extremely lousy mood that morning. Well, I guess not only that morning, seeing as I am a morning grouch, but it was particularly bad that morning – probably because I wanted to have wild sex with grandpa Jeff and I couldn't.”
Lisa, Tommy, Brad and April giggled, but grandpa Jeff chided his wife for her direct words.
“Dear, there're other ways of expressing that desire of yours.”
“Definitely. But this is what I truly felt. Don't be so uptight. May I resume my narration now?” She continued without waiting for his reply.
“Anyway, I felt cantankerous and was just waiting for an opportunity to take it out on someone.” Mrs. Queer furrowed his brows, “Watch that mouth of yours, lady, “ he said pompously, but I had already turned my back on him.
Meatball and Lighting were waiting for us.
“We won't rehearse very much today, “Meatball welcomed me.
“Good morning to you, too,” I replied, which left him momentarily flustered.
“I was saying?” he asked Lighting after a brief pause.
“That we wouldn't rehearse very much today, “ said Lighting.
“Ah, right. Lighting needs to figure out the lighting. Therefore we're going to place you and the others in different positions on and off all day so that Lighting can do her job. We begin with the other lions.”
“And what do we do in the meantime?” I wanted to know, pointing at the cubs and me.
“Whatever you like. Only do us the favor and stay out of the way until it's your turn.”
“Right!” I grumbled.
b, and besides, they weren't responsible for my crankiness. Hold on, come to think of it, they were! If it weren't for them, I wouldn't be here. I'd be home with grandpa Jeff! I realized, though, that complaining wouldn't improve my situation, therefore I kept silent, laid down and watched.
They gathered the lions, ten all in all, and made them lie down in a certain spot which they marked with a branch. This would be the starting point for the lions for whatever they did. They spent the next two hours getting up, yawning, pacing, chasing off flies and disciplining older cubs, while the scrutinizing eyes of Meatball and Lighting corrected their every move, supervised by Mrs. Queer, until they were satisfied. Or somewhat satisfied. Meatball screamed the orders at them that Mrs. Queer was whispering into his ear, and Lighting kept correcting their positions for the best lighting effects. She was taking notes. She would complete them in the course of the day. Lighting would bring a new paper every day for the following three weeks; she would check and correct her notes, compare them and make a final decision on the last rehearsal day when everyone was styled. She had papers for me as well. She was very meticulous.
Eventually they beckoned the cubs over.
“You play over there,” Meatball told them and pointed to where the lions were. I scoffed at him, “As though they'd listen to you. They're kids, you gotta show them.”
I led them to the spot Meatball had indicated, a branch marking it, and encouraged them to play. Lighting was easy on the cubs. She simply skipped the whole “let's determine the best light effect” and said instead, “Perfect. Let's move on.”
Meatball scowled at her but did not object.
“Now to you.” He turned to me. “You pretend to have this minor fight with another lioness over which you momentarily forget your cubs. One of them, or maybe both, seizes the opportunity and runs away, to the road where the tourists will be standing.”
“How will you manage to make them walk away right then?” I wondered.
“Oh, that's a piece of cake,” he grinned. “Sven Mouse is going to drop bits of meat on the ground, and it would indeed surprise me if they didn't follow the line.”
A tiny mouse with whiskers almost as long as his body, a pointy nose and emerald green eyes, waved at me from Lighting's back, where he had been cozied up in her mane, smiling broadly. I couldn't help myself and smiled back. Sven jumped to the ground and Lighting handed him a small pouch filled with cut up meat.
The cubs had been playing, oblivious to what was going on around them, but now their attention was focused on Sven Mouse who was slowly dropping his morsels to the ground. The cubs sniffed the air, got up eagerly and followed obediently behind. He repeated this two more times, and it worked just as well.
“Lunch break!” called Mrs. Queer afterwards. “Make certain you're back at one p.m. sharp!”
We dispersed. The cubs and I sat down in the shade and enjoyed a light lunch. The one hour lunch break was over way too soon, and Mrs. Queer commenced rehearsing with such fervor that I started fearing for his health.
“The heat is getting to him today,” the lioness I was to quarrel with said. Indeed, his face had turned a scarlet red soon after we had begun working again. However, that might also have been to do with the pranks we were playing on him. I reckon his patience was wearing thin.
“We're only trying to help Lighting find the best position for us,” I said innocently after he had called us to order for the umpteenth time, but he only glared at me. If that was any indication of his mood, under normal circumstances I would have ended up as skewered meat, slowly roasted over an open fire and heavily greased.
“Let's call it quits for today!” he said instead. “See you tomorrow, same time, same place.”
And so the weeks of rehearsals went by. We added dialog to the scenes – there was a lot of hissing and snarling, let me tell you! - and the rangers pretended to be tourists. It was actually kind of fun to run at them full speed and scare the shit out of them!”
“Rose!” grandpa Jeff said reprovingly. “Watch your language in front of our grandchildren.”
“Ooops, you're right, my dear. Well, I scared the hell out of them!”
Lisa, Tommy, Brad and April grinned.
“Finally the Big Day arrived,” grandma Rose resumed her narration. “I was nervous, believe it or not. And Sammy had been right all along. Despite my initial reservations, some also called it hostility, I had a lot of fun. I warmed up to Meatball and Mrs. Queer, and I grew very fond of my acting partners, and my mate, and saying goodbye was a hard thing to do.”
“Mate? You've never mentioned that before!” grandpa Jeff interrupted her, indignant.
“You see, the cubs needed a father, someone to snuggle up to and learn the macho way of life from. And the nights get really cold out there. I have to admit it was very pleasant to have someone who warmed my b... back.”
She looked him straight in the eye.
“What did he look like?”
“He was big, strong and muscular. His mane was wild, his eyes fierce, his fur the softest I've ever touched – and he had to be recharged every day.”
“Recharged?” grandpa Jeff was confused.
Grandma Rose laughed, “Of course, sweetheart! Do you seriously think I could have cheated on you? Or that the other lionesses would have given up their partners without fighting me for real? And trust me when I say that I wouldn't have stood a chance in a real fight! No, the park rangers gave me a dummy for company when I complained about the cold and the cubs' boredom.”
Now all of them laughed.
“But how did the actual play go?” asked Brad.
“It went very well. By the time the tourists rolled around we were a great team. We mainly acted according to the script but every now and then we improvised, which absolutely infuriated Mrs. Queer. I guess that's why we did it,” she grinned mischievously. “Anyway, my favorite improvisation was to pounce on the one person who picked up the cubs. I was to only run toward them, glare and snarl ferociously, but on occasion I preferred to leap. I sailed through the air and landed on top of them, throwing them to the ground. They literally peed their pants! One or two of the park rangers had to pretend to beat me with their wooden sticks to prevent me from hurting the tourist, and I could tell how hard it was for them not to burst out laughing. It also happened that they took their time freeing the tourist, which usually meant that they couldn't stand him or her.”
“Did you get to watch any of the other plays on your free days?” asked Lisa.
“Certainly! I first went to see the fighting crocodiles. There was a lot of splashing and teeth clanging, bodies writhing, and tail swishing. The water seemed to be boiling! It lasted for about fifteen minutes. Short but impressive. The rhino attack was cool! The tourists were having a picnic by the river a safe distance from the rhinos. However, one person was usually stupid enough to approach the animals, and rhinos don't particularly like that. They took turns pulling those tourists into the water and toying with them there until the park ranger came to their rescue. It was hilarious to watch when they came out of the river, unharmed, of course, but soaking wet and dripping, their teeth chattering! The elephant performance was breathtaking! The trumpeting was deafening, the raised dust burning in your throat and stinging your eyes. Mother elephant swung her trunk through the air to fend the cheetahs off, cracking some ribs in the process – the sound was simulated by another elephant who kept away from the melee. He had gathered an armful of dried twigs that he was cracking, holding them in front of an amp. The one cheetah that mother elephant “trampled to death” was smeared with ketchup. It looked very real – Hollywood would have been proud!” grandma Rose grinned. “When the season ended, everyone came to bide us farewell,” she said after a moment of reminiscence.
“Were you sad?” April asked.
“Yes and no. I had, of course, made friends in th
ose months and I knew I'd never see them again – not unless I wanted to return as a tourist! Therefore I felt quite sad, yes. On the other hand I was going to see your grandfather again, so I was extremely eager to leave. They eventually turned the computer on and punched in the necessary data to send my cubs back. I kissed them on the head and petted them. They had no clue what was going to happen so they continued their bickering as usual. Since they had grown considerably in the past months the computer shrank them back to their original size. And before they could shake off their stupor they were once again lying in their mother's arms and suckling on her breasts. Oh man, their frantic mother nearly had a heart attack! She stopped breathing and had turned rather red in the face before she remembered that she needed oxygen to survive. She rubbed her eyes, shook her head and hugged her children until they protested loudly. The gazelle then turned to me.
“Ready?” she asked.
I nodded and waved goodbye to everyone present one last time. The gazelle punched a few buttons, and suddenly I was back in my own body, standing right beside grandpa Jeff.”
“Well, it was slightly different from my perspective. You didn't simply reappear, my dear. The bells chimed again ten times, and with each time you returned a little bit more until, at the tenth chime, you were once again the girl who'd left me standing bemused and bewildered ten seconds ago.”
“Isn't it curious, though, that I felt the shrinking but not the growing?” grandma Rose wanted to know, whereupon grandpa Jeff just shrugged.
“If you want my opinion, this whole story is rather curious, and nothing surprises me in the least.”
“Is it really a true story?” Tommy asked sceptically.
“Or are you only making fun of us?” added Lisa.
“We can't prove it, so it's up to you to believe us or not,” said grandma Rose, “but I know what happened to me in that instant, it's firmly imprinted on my mind.”
“And that's enough for tonight. Off to bed with you!”
Grandpa Jeff clapped his hands together and his four grandchildren got up and went to sleep.
