Once Makedde said he prayed he would not die on a rainy day, but that he would go on a beautiful day. He wanted to die with reminders of Aiheu’s beauty to comfort those he left behind.
Indeed, just as the sun gilded the perfumed grass, and the wind swept the trees to wordless melody, Zazu came flying to Rafiki’s tree with urgency in every word. “Come quick, your brother’s dying!”
Rafiki grabbed a gourd with painkillers, but took nothing else. There was no need. This was an expected death, one that crept on its victim with the determination of wild dogs on a blood trail.
He ran as quickly as he could, which was not very fast. His pulses pounded, and beads of sweat popped up on his aging brow. Still, he pressed himself to make the effort. He knew his brother would do the same for him.
By the time he got to Makedde’s cave, the old mandrill was lying still on a bed of fresh hay gathered by a friend. The hay smelled like a morning meadow, masking the dampness of the cave. Still there was another lingering smell--the smell of death. Perhaps only a shaman like himself could smell it, but it was unmistakable.
“Is he dead?” Rafiki asked Zazu.
Makedde opened his eyes. “Not yet.” He reached out weakly with his hand. Rafiki took it. "I knew you'd come.” He smiled. “Zazu didn’t get you out of bed, did he?" Makedde’s head fell over and hand went limp.
"Oh no," Rafiki said, giving the limp hand a little squeeze and putting it softly on his brother's chest. "Oh no." Tears welled up in his eyes. "He was the last of my family. Now I am all that’s left," Rafiki told Zazu.
"The last of your family? Don’t be ridiculous. I mean there’s Simba, Nala, Misha, and don’t forget Uzuri.”
“Or you?”
Zazu preened his wing feathers. “Well yes, actually. And I’m sure you could think of others too."
Rafiki mused over this later as he sat up in the top of his baobab. He smiled to himself, fresh tears tracking down his face as he thought of the other members of his family, long gone in the past. Busara’s visage sprang up, then his mother’s. Kinara, ever complaining about old Maloki. Asumini, Penda...he sighed deeply.
Cool light flared at his back, and he turned to see a cub sitting in front of him. The fact that the cub was hanging in mid air sixty feet off the ground was irrelevant as he recognized the features. “Taka!”
A smile appeared on Taka’s face as he rubbed against Rafiki’s ankles. “Hello, Uncle.”
Reflexively, Rafiki felt at the pouch for his side, then stopped himself. It had been ages since he last had a use for it; what use had an old mandrill now for....
His throat closed as his palm slipped around the Tiko root in the pouch. He withdrew it, his hand trembling.
The reaction was immediate. The cub sat upright, haunches splayed against nothingness as he fought to keep his balance.
“Who do you love?” Rafiki whispered.
“You, Uncle ‘Fiki.”
“How much do you love me?”
“More than life.”
Rafiki dropped the snack and Taka snapped it up. “I really do, you know, no matter what I may have said!” Tears began to run down his cheeks. “Please forgive me!"
“Of course I do, Fru Fru,” he said, stroking the soft fur of Taka’s face lovingly. “You don't have to hide from me.”
The cub bowed his head. The light flared again, brighter this time. Rafiki squinted, unable to make out the features. “Taka?”
A wave of feeling washed over him as the light touched his face. "How could you still love me?"
"I always saw that light. It got buried deeper and deeper through the years, but never so deep that I couldn't see it."
The light shifted for a moment, then coalesced into the familiar form of the lion. His once dark mane now shone, shot through with brilliant strands of light as he looked at Rafiki. “Service,” he said. “I am here to serve, and through service find growth and peace.” He stepped forward and nuzzled Rafiki. “You are ripe with knowledge, Rafiki. It is time for you to bear fruit.”
“I don't understand.”
“The bond between Ka and flesh is strong, but it cannot last forever. You must seek out someone to pass on your wisdom to, before it is lost to the winds.”
“I tried! I tried, but Aiheu had other plans for Uhuru. He has found his place.” Tears threatened Rafiki again, and he wiped them away. “I have no one else.”
“I do not speak of the hyena. The tree of knowledge starts at the roots; try looking there first.” Taka smiled at him. “You will find the fields much more fertile than when you left.” He reached out and placed a paw on Rafiki’s shoulder. “It is imperative you not be hasty to accept unwanted advice. Be brave in making the hard decision. Respect the first impression.” He withdrew slowly. “I must go, Uncle. You have tarried too long with me. Return to your home.”
"Go now?"
"Yes, now. Hurry."
Rafiki straightened up, blinking. The leaves of his tree swayed gently as he shook off the effects of the vision.
"Rafiki?"
"Who calls?"
"Misha."
At the very mention of that name, Rafiki lit up like the sun. The lioness came to his entranceway. "I had an accident."
It was only a small cut on her shoulder, but when Rafiki saw it, he was very pained. Misha saw his tear stained face.
"Come now, it's not that bad. I almost didn't come."
"Not the cut, my dear. I just...." He put his arms around her neck and kissed her cheek. "I just needed a friend tonight. My brother died today."
Her ears laid back. "I'm so sorry."
"Thank you. It was expected, you know. I guess they will say the same thing about me someday: ‘the old ape had to go sometime.’ I can remember your great grandfather. He was my dear friend and to you a worthy ancestor."
"I don't know whether to envy you or pity you," she said frankly. "Who wants to outlive all their friends?" She looked at the tears that started in his eyes and regretted saying it. Nuzzling him, she asked "Why won't you come live with us at Pride Rock? It may seem a little crowded at first, but we all love you. You know I have invited you many times."
"And I have thanked you many times."
Her face drew down in a frown. "You are going to say no again, aren't you?"
"My dear little Misha. My work takes me into the forest. I would never get my herbs if I lived there. I have a place for everything, and everything in its place. Such as it is, this tree has been my home for most of my life. Most likely I shall die here.” He kissed her. “Still, every time you ask me, I feel warm inside."
"Then I must ask more often."
He quickly retrieved some heal-all and crushed it into a paste. This he put on the wound with all the care he could muster. "There, that should feel better."
"It sure does." She touched his cheek with her warm tongue.
"Take care of yourself, honey tree," Rafiki said.
"I'm not in a hurry," she replied. "Sit down. We'll talk."
With a smile that made his old face beautiful, he sat cross-legged on the ground. She came and laid her large, shapely head in his lap. Tears of grief and love flowed freely as he stroked her soft fur.