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by Simpl Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Other · Contest Entry · #1999786
A well-loved stuffed bear current life and his future.
Mufasa’s Life #1


“Oh no!  Here I go again.  Hank, stop knocking me to the rug beside your bed!”  No response.  “What’s the matter, Hank, can’t you hear me?  You never respond when I talk to you.  I ALWAYS hear what you say to me.  You tell me about your day at school, your parents, your cat, Isaac.  When I talk to you, I get nothing.  It’s frustrating.  I hear your footsteps down the hall and then down the stairs.  You’re gone.”

“Here I am resting on my side on the floor looking at nothing under the bed.  And a nothing view is boring.  I’m stuck like this until Mom comes in to make Hank’s bed.  Guess I’ll nap.”
. ..

“I’m being moved.  I can see the walls, the curtains, and the Star Wars quilt atop Hank’s bed.  Put me on the pillow where I can see out the window.  Sadly, as with Hank, Mom can’t hear me though she often talks while working in Hank’s room.”

“That child will be the death of me yet,” she says.  “He’s forever dumping his precious lion, Mufasa, on the floor.  How he has loved Mufasa!  Hank leaves his other toys all over the floor too.  His ‘floordrobe’ is where he keeps his clothes.  Always a mess for me to tidy up.  One of these days . . .”  She gathered up Hank’s dirty clothes, adjusted the curtains, and left the room.

“Alone again.  The majority of my life is that – alone.  But I guess I can’t complain.  When Hank was younger, I was his constant companion.  I went with him to the breakfast table, to the sandbox, to the park where I rode on the merry-go-round as he pushed it.  He’d send me down the slide first and then pick me up at the bottom after his ride.  Sometimes he put me in his wagon and pulled me around or set me on the back of his tricycle as he rode up and down his driveway.  We were hardly ever apart.  That much activity was hard on my gold and brown furry body.  Hank would cry if my stuffing started to come out or an ear became loose.  Mom did a lot of mending on me over those years.  I am now intact if ‘scarred’ from all the mending.”

“Here comes Isaac.  He thinks I’m special.  He likes to curl up beside me and sleep on the pillow of Hank’s bed.  Maybe he thinks I’m a cat.  Well, I am a cat of sorts but not a common housecat.  I am a fearless, bold, lion and a leader besides.”

“No, Isaac, don’t push me!  I’ll tip over and then. . . DRAT, I’m back on my side on the pillow looking at Isaac.  It’s not that he’s bad to see, but he curls up, grunts, and settles down for a long nap.  My entire view is his long black fur gently rising and falling as he breathes.  Not exciting at all.”
. . .
“I hear Hank bound into the room.  Isaac jumps up and rushes out.  Hank dumps his books on the bed.  He notices me.  He picks me up and turns me upright again.  ‘There you go ol’ Mufasa,’ he says.” 

“Old Mufasa,” I repeat.  “Where do your get the ‘old’ stuff?  I’m younger than you are and you’re still a kid.  But you ARE growing up fast.  That makes me sad.  Soon you’ll have little or no use for me and I’ll end up in a plastic bag in the back corner of your closet or perhaps will be hauled away like a piece of trash.”

Hank begins his homework and doesn’t hear me.  He sits at his desk and works.  Then abruptly he picks me up, flops down on his bed, and stares me in the eyes.

“Mufasa, you are a good friend.  I can tell you anything but I’m a big boy now.  Big boys don’t carry stuffed animals around.  I have friends from school I can talk with and my parents.  You need a new little boy to love you and be your friend.  I have an idea.”

Hank picked me up, tucked me under his arm, and went downstairs.  “Mom,” he called, “I have just had a wonderful idea.”

“That sounds good, Hank. Tell me about it.”

“You know what good friends Mufasa and I have been over the years.”

Mom nodded her head.  “Indeed” was all she said.

“I think it’s time for Mufasa to have another little boy as a special friend.  Then Mufasa won’t have to feel abandoned because I’m growing up.”

“That is a good idea.  Do you know to whom you’d like to give Mufasa?”

“I do,” Hank replied.  “Didn’t Uncle Ken’s daughter just have a baby boy?”

“Yes, she did.  Uncle Ken is crazy about little Jacob.”

“I think Jacob needs Mufasa.”

“You may be right but Mufasa is a well-loved and much repaired Lion.”

“I know that but I was thinking we could clean him up and then take him to Jacob.”

“I think that can be arranged.  I know how to clean your well-loved lion to make him sparkle.  Jacob, I’m sure, will come to love Mufasa as you have.  What a nice thought, Hank.”

“Thanks, Mom.  It just came to me today in a flash but it feels right.  Thanks for helping.  You want to keep Mufasa now for cleaning?”

“Not today, Hank.  You keep him with you one more night and while you’re in school tomorrow, I’ll do my magic.  On Saturday we can take Mufasa to Jacob. 

“I’d like that, Mom.  OK, Mufasa, old friend, let’s go finish my homework before supper.”

“I’m back on the bed now.  I feel stirrings of both joy and sadness.  I’ll miss Hank but I’ll have a new child to watch and new memories to make with that boy.  It will be Mufasa’s Life #2.  If I could, I would smile.”


995 Words
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