Many Memories

Things were certainly different since they made it home. Alex had been noticing it more and more by the day. The Manhattan sky was always marred with a grey desaturation. Not like the striking sapphire skies of Africa he could still recall. He was forgetting the smell of the wild, but he could recall a freshness of grain, water, and flowers. The zoo's grass was short and meticulously groomed, not like the wild plains that stretched across the horizon. The ones he and Marty would play in, run in, and often for their lives. He smiled. Those were good times. And he had no idea at the time.

Had he made the right decision? Was their Manhattan home really all he made it out to be? Is it just that unacceptable a thought that their place really was in the wild? After all, that is the way nature intended it. But not the way Alex had intended it...

"Rise and shine, pretty kitty."

The lion bolted upright.

Skipper stood in his enclosure with his usual smugness and the gift of a wriggling fish. "I know you don't have much a taste for steak these days." He tossed the fish.

"Thanks, Skip," the lion answered while catching his squirming meal.

The penguin saluted, and turned to leave.

"Hey, Skipper?"

"Yes?" He faced the cat.

"Do you ever... I don't know... think about the wild anymore?"

Skipper's expression became inquisitive. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason... just curious I guess."

The penguin scratched his head, "On occasion. But if there's one thing I've ever learned, it's not where you are, it's who you're with that counts."

The lion nodded, his massive mane shaking with his head. "Yeah, I remember now."

"You weren't thinking of going back were you?"

"There's just a lot of memories, you know?"

"Yes, I know," Skipper agreed, "But that's one mission I would call accomplished."

"Alright, well thanks for the fish."

"Not a problem. And if you ever feel lost again, I hear Phil got his hands on 'Psychotherapy for Dummies'." With these words the penguin disappeared into one of the many underground tunnels that linked the zoo.

Despite Skipper's remark, the lion had already began to question his own sanity. He held a hand to his stomach, beneath the fur he could still feel the many scars that commemorated his venture into the wild. But still, he wouldn't be the cat he is today without those experiences.

The lion put the fish aside, and got to his feet. He began to pace, savoring every sweet memory that appeared before him. A swift setting sun before an endless field of green, the horizon lined with exotic trees and mountains. Birds singing while crossing the plain, oh the view they must have. A black lake shining back the gold of the sun. Everywhere, the smell of nectars and fruits. A sight that felt like home, even though he had never gazed on it before in his life.

Without realizing, he was overlooking Marty's pen. The zebra still slept, his striped body expanding and contracting with every breath. A precious breath, as every one of them had shared a cold brush with the hand of death. The wild was as treacherous as it was beautiful. But then again, everything had its price.

The wind blew, but it held no scent of flowering trees and foreign lands. Just the familiar scent of the city. What he wouldn't give for that adventure, that mystery, that comfort. Just one last time.

"Maybe someday," he said to himself. A broad grin took his face. "If Marty's up to it."

THE END