bathe here, wash my clothes I wore yesterday, and get myself ready for the day ahead.”

“You bathe in water?” he asked curiously. “You don’t lick yourself?”

An image of me licking myself clean like a cat popped into my head, and I laughed. “I’m not that flexible! And have you seen how small my tongue is?”

I jokingly stuck it out at him, still laughing.

“There’s no way I can lick myself clean!” I finished.

Simba smiled and laughed. “Why don’t you bathe it in the waterhole? It’s a lot closer than this place.”

I rolled my eyes, reminding myself he doesn’t know about human customs.

“Well, we drink from there. I don’t think you want to drink the water after I’ve washed all the dirt and sweat off of myself. And there’s nobody here in the mornings. I like the quiet time. But having you here is fun.” I added quickly so I wouldn’t offend him.

He smiled and replied, “Oh, alright. I get it.” He turned around and began swimming in circled, apparently enjoying himself.

I smiled, and submerged myself. I began ruffling my hair hard under the water. I had never realized how important shampoo was until I didn’t have it. But rubbing my scalp underwater for about a minute seemed to work just the same.

I resurfaced, spluttering, to see Simba swimming towards the bank of the stream. I did the same and got out. I used my clothes I wore yesterday to dry off, and then changed into a fresh pair from my bag. Simba was shaking the water off of himself.

I took the garments I dried off with, and used a bumpy rock to scrub them in the stream. Again, I was reminded how much I missed such a simple necessity as soap. Simba was laying on his stomach, his front paws crossed over each other, his back tucked underneath him. He was watching me intently.

“So what are they for?” he inquired.

I looked up at him, “My clothes? Well, they’re mostly to keep myself warm. You’ll notice that I’m not covered in fur like you are. So I need the clothes to keep warm.”

“So it’s like your fur?” he asked me, understanding coming to his face.

“Yeah, except I’m not born with clothes on. I have to…” I stopped for a moment, knowing that he wouldn’t understand the concept of “buying” from a store. “…get them from other places that have them.”

I finished washing my clothes, then wrung them out and stuffed them into mda noisy when you got that pack of yours. It woke me up, so I followed you.” He smiled, and then asked, “So what are you doing here? Why is your skin on the ground?

“My skin?” I asked, puzzled.

“You know, your skin that changes color every day.”

It took me a second to realize that he was referring to my clothes.

“Oh, you mean my clothes! Well, I can’t bathe in them.”

“Oh…” he said. I could still see he was confused. He didn’t say anything else.

“This is where I do my morning routine.” I said, breaking the silence. “I bathe here, wash my clothes I wore yesterday, and get myself ready for the day ahead.”

“You bathe in water?” he asked curiously. “You don’t lick yourself?”

An image of me licking myself clean like a cat popped into my head, and I laughed. “I’m not that flexible! And have you seen how small my tongue is?”

I jokingly stuck it out at him, still laughing.

“There’s no way I can lick myself clean!” I finished.

Simba smiled and laughed. “Why don’t you bathe it in the waterhole? It’s a lot closer than this place.”

I rolled my eyes, reminding myself he doesn’t know about human customs.

“Well, we drink from there. I don’t think you want to drink the water after I’ve washed all the dirt and sweat off of myself. And there’s nobody here in the mornings. I like the quiet time. But having you here is fun.” I added quickly so I wouldn’t offend him.

He smiled and replied, “Oh, alright. I get it.” He turned around and began swimming in circled, apparently enjoying himself.

I smiled, and submerged myself. I began ruffling my hair hard under the water. I had never realized how important shampoo was until I didn’t have it. But rubbing my scalp underwater for about a minute seemed to work just the same.

I resurfaced, spluttering, to see Simba swimming towards the bank of the stream. I did the same and got out. I used my clothes I wore yesterday to dry off, and then changed into a fresh pair from my bag. Simba was shaking the water off of himself.

I took the garments I dried off with, and used a bumpy rock to scrub them in the stream. Again, I was reminded how much I missed such a simple necessity as soap. Simba was laying on his stomach, his front paws crossed over each other, his back tucked underneath him. He was watching me intently.

“So what are they for?” he inquired.

I looked up at him, “My clothes? Well, they’re mostly to keep myself warm. You’ll notice that I’m not covered in fur like you are. So I need the clothes to keep warm.”

“So it’s like your fur?” he asked me, understanding coming to his face.

y pack. Refreshed and ready, I set off back to Pride Rock, Simba trotting happily at my side.

He reminded me so much of my younger brother. He was so fun loving, and so full of questions. Even his face resembled my brother’s a little bit.

I thought for a moment…

Is this really coincidence that Mufasa, Sarabi, and Simba all resemble my family? What does it mean?

Unsure of the answer, I pushed the thought out.

Simba, uncomfortable with the silence, began to talk.

“Dad told me he’s gonna do something special with me today!”

            I snapped out of my head, and paid attention to what he was telling me.

            “What’s that?” I asked.

            “He’s gonna teach me how to be a good king today! He told me when the sun rises he’ll take me around and teach me!”

            I smiled. I had almost forgotten that Simba was royalty, and he would someday take the place of his father.

            “That sounds like fun!” I said.

            “Do you want me to ask if you can come with us?” he asked hopefully.

            I hesitated. It would be a cool opportunity to find out what the King really has to do. But then the thought of my father surfaced in my head. I remembered the times we had before. The times he took me to the park down the street from the neighborhood. The time we went to the movies and threw popcorn at the people in front of us. I would give anything now just to have those times back. And I knew that for Simba to become king, Mufasa would have to be gone. I couldn’t bring myself to break up a time for father and son.

            I looked at him, seriously. “Nah. I’ve got some stuff to do today. I’ll hang with you guys later.”

            His face fell a little bit. “Oh, alright. Yeah, we can hang out later!”

            I smiled again, and we continued our walk back to Pride Rock. When we got there, I told him goodbye and set off towards the waterhole. He ran up to the edge of Pride Rock and watched me, smiling. Then he turned around and ran back to the cave.

As I walked, I heard him yelling out “Dad! Dad! Come on dad, we gotta go! Wake up!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 5 – Confrontation and Confessions

 

 

I stopped at the waterhole to fill my canteen that was in my backpack. By now, the sun was fully risen. After filling the canteen to the brim, I stood up and looked around. Pride Rock’s majesty could not be denied as it stood with dignity in the risen sun. I could see several lionesses padding down from its slope towards me to get a morning drink. I waved, acknowledging them, and they nodded towards me.

I set off to the south. There were a lot of grassland and acacia trees in this area. Here and there were several herds of zebra and antelope grazing. I stopped for a moment, wondering if I should go around. Cautiously, I took one step forward. Some glanced up at me, and then went back to their breakfast. Smiling, I started forward, walking between each antelope and zebra. They did not even seem to care about this strange creature disturbing their meal. Apparently, the news of the human within the Pride Lands had spread fast.

As I walked through, I began to wonder if the other animals could talk too. I stopped near some zebra and waited to see if they were talking. Sure enough, I did hear some words, but they came from behind me rather than from the group I was watching.

“Hey buddy, could you move over just a little? You’re in my grazing area!”

I whirled around to see an antelope staring at me. He looked fairly young, but he was defiantly not a child. He didn’t look annoyed, but he was act

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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