>On Mon, 29 Apr 1996 17:09:41 -0500, you wrote: >So, Pride Rock was custom built for the Presentation, eh? Did the >plans include an express elevator for Rafiki to use during the >ceremony? Oh, and who arranged for the sunbeam? >------------------------------------ >Sam Simpson (sfsimpsn@ix.netcom.com)
Legal Stuff: Any resemblance of the characters in this story to other characters, real or fictional, is purely co-incidental.
The first, orange rays of sunlight illuminated the landscape, silouetting the distant trees and rocky outcroppings. Rafiki squinted at the yellow crescent that was slowly rising over the horizon. It was time! The mandrill laughed gleefully. He scurried back into his tree and retrieved a few essential items: the ceremonial juice, to sanctify the new prince's position in the circle of life; and his staff, to help Rafiki make the journey to the top of Pride Rock.
Already, dozens of creatures had gathered around the Pride Lands. Elephants, Zebras, Storks -- they were all there. They had to be; Mufasa had promised to personally eat any animal who refused to show up.
After a few minutes, Rafiki reached his destination. Before him was the great rock that had been the home of the pride for many years. He looked up and saw Mufasa watching him from the top. He waved with his stick. There was only one way up. He had to find the right stone. It took a few minutes of searching, but when he saw it he placed a brown, wrinkled hand on the oval stone and twisted.
A much larger rock in front of him slid aside to reveal a shaft of white light, contrasting the orange glow of the morning. Rafiki walked into the elevator and waited for the door to close. Beside it was a column of three buttons. Rafiki used his stick to hit the top one. Gradually, he felt heavier and a little queasy. Mandrills were not made to ride elevators. It was, however, the only way he could make it in time for the presentation. The feeling passed, and he heard a familiar song coming from the radio speakers above.
In his mind, Rafiki went over what he would do. He hoped that he would not drop the cub, as he did once under Torna's rule. Young cubs were very slippery, and on that morning, many years ago, Pride Rock had been particularly high. It was a good thing that Mufasa had siezed power when he did, or Rafiki would have been lion food.
Suddenly, the mandrill felt lighter. The elevator stopped and the door slid open. Rafiki stumbled out into the warm morning air. The sun was now higher in the saphire sky and everything it's light touched turned to gold. Mufasa was waiting for him outside. Rafiki embraced his old friend. It seemed like only yesterday that he was a reckless young lion, afraid of nothing, chasing after Sarabi. And now they had a son and future king. Mufasa led Rafiki over to his mate, who held the cub in her paws.
Mufasa spoke, "His name is Simba."
"Simba," Rafiki echoed. He had forgotten how small lion cubs were. Simba was only a little bigger than the fruit that Rafiki held. The mandrill poured the ceremonial juice out of the fruit onto Simba's head, and sealed the sacrament with some sand. He then picked up the cub and carried the young lion to the edge of the rock, thrusting him above himself for all to see. Simba was now officially the future Lion King.
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