Chapter 9.
This is the ninth chapter. There will be a few changes to the "Hakuna Matata" bit, but I hope it's all right. Hope you enjoy it.
Simba just laid down on the burning desert ground. He was so unconscious that he wasn't able to notice a pack of vultures flying above, and then they came down and gathered around him. They all sat around him and stared at his motionless unless body. Suddenly the sound of yelling filled the area, as a horse with two men came trotting towards them. One man was holding the reins, with his feet in the stirrups, and was waving a shot gun in his right hand (holding it via the barrel) above his head like a stick and yelling his head off, sitting on the saddle. The second man holding onto his partners back, sitting behind him, on the horse's back. The first man was on the chubby side, had scruffy brown hair, had a hairy chin and black eyes and was wearing an unzipped black leather jacket (even in the heat) over a dark brown shirt with dusty looking Demin shorts. The second man was quite shorter than his partner, had very short blonde hair, brown eyes, and had a skinny body and wore a light brown shirt with white trousers. They both had sunglasses on, and looked to be in their mid-twenties. They got closer and closer to the Vultures, but when they a few mere feet away, the Vultures took and flew away, leaving Simba's body alone, as the two men rode past his body, but stopped just behind him. "Ah, come back, you cowards! One day I'm gonna get those Vultures, Timon." The chubby man said, in an American accent, staring up at the fleeing birds. "You say that all the time. I don't know why it's so important to you, Pumbaa." The skinny man, Timon, said, his accent also American. "I just feel like it would make me feel better. Hey, what's that?" Pumbaa asked, looking down at Simba's body, before dismounting (getting off the Horse). Timon stayed on and held the reins. "Pumbaa, what are you doing? It's probably dead." Timon said, impatiently. "This "probably dead" thing is a human being, Timon, just like us. He can't be any older than 10." Pumbaa replied. "I can see that it's a human, but if its not moving, then its dead, the poor soul." Timon said, unsympathetically, as Pumbaa felt his right hand against Simba's neck. "I've got a pulse! He's alive! He probably needs water." Pumbaa said, as he pulled out a dark green round shaped water bottle that was held by a strap in his leather jacket with his left hand, unscrewed the top, and moved it near Simba's mouth, opened it with his right-hand fingers, and poured a little bit of water into Simba's mouth.
A few seconds after the first drops of water entered his mouth, Simba jolted and began coughing, a few water drops coming out of his mouth and opened his eyes slightly, though his sight was not at its best due to his desert traveling and the heat. He could just about see the dark outline of Pumbaa's body atop him. Who are you?" He asked weakly. "Uh, we're the guys who saved your life." Pumbaa answered as he moved Simba's upper body upwards to face Timon on the horse. "I'm Pumbaa, and that's Timon." Pumba explained as he gave Simba his water bottle, and began drinking it all down gulp after gulp. After he finished the lot, he did a deep breath and handed the empty bottle back to Pumbaa. "Thanks for the water. But it didn't really matter, you saving me." Simba said as he looked down at the ground sadly. "Whoa, what? You mean you actually wanted to die in the desert?!" Timon asked atop the horse. "I was not exactly wanting to die out here, but I would've accepted it. I did something terrible. I don't want to talk about it." Simba answered, still looking at the ground. "Look, kid. We all make mistakes? Is there anything we can do to help?" Timon asked him. "Not unless you can change the past." Simba answered. Timon and Pumbaa looked at each other, then back at Simba. "Uh, kid... that's a lot to ask for. And besides, the past is something that has already happened, so you can't change it. But you know what you can't change? Your future." Timon answered. "Yeah, we have experience in that." Pumbaa added, as he then got up on his feet, and then lifted Simba up on his, though Pumbaa held him by the shoulders due to his weakness. "How can you change something that hasn't happened?" Simba asked, confused. "Well to change your future, first, you must put your past behind you. Bad things happen, and you can't do anything about them, right?" Timon asked. "Right." Simba answered. "Wrong. When the world turns its back on you… you turn your back on the world." Timon explained. "And only embrace and accept what's next. Turn the "What" into "So what?"" Pumbaa added. "Well, that's not what I was taught." Simba said, as Pumbaa helped him walk closer to the horse. "Well, then maybe you need a new lesson. Repeat after me, kid. Hakuna Matata." Timon said.
"What?" Simba asked, confused. "Hakuna Matata. It means no worries, or the rest of your days. Come with us, kid. Your better with us than out here on your own." Timon said. "I agree." Pumbaa nodded. as Timon held out his left arm, and when Simba took it, knowing Timon was right, he pulled him up onto the horse behind him, as Pumbaa mounted again in the saddle and made the horse go back the way they came. "Its our problem free philosophy." Pumbaa added. "Hakuna Matata?" Simba asked. "Yeah, it our motto. Swahili for "No worries"". Pumbaa answered. "What's a motto?" Simba asked. "Nothing. What's-a-motto with you? Those two words will solve all your problems. Take Pumbaa here. Why? When he was young lad…" Timon explained. "When I was a young llaaadddd…." Pumbaa began saying, the last word like an opera, before he gasped. "Are you all right?" Timon asked. "I find my story emotional." Pumbaa answered. "He found hit bottom had a certain appeal. He could clear the room after every meal." Timon explained. Basically, Pumbaa had a bit of a farting problem when he was young, and everyone would stay a distance from it at school. "Oh, the shame, I was so ashamed, I though of changing my name. To what, Brad? I got downhearted every time I farted... are you gonna stop me?" Pumbaa asked Timon, turning to head backwards. "No, I'm not! You disgust me!" Timon said back, jokingly as Pumbaa then farted. Then suddenly, Simba saw they were heading towards what looked like a wood or a forest. He breathed a sign of relief when they entered the shade of the trees. They rode on for a few seconds until in a small clearing, they stopped in front of a small brick building with a thatched roof, barely less than a story high. To its left was a small field with crops growing out of it, and to the right, a small stable for horses. "Welcome to our humble home." Timon said. "You live here?" Simba asked, intrigued, as he noticed a small waterfall on some small hills in the distance. "Oh, we live where we want, which is here." Timon answered. "We do as we please." Pumbaa added. They then dismounted and went into the house, which had a pretty basic, but comfortable interior. "You hungry, kid?" Pumbaa asked. "Yeah, I'm stared. I could eat a whole steak." Simba said. "Uh, kid, we're fresh out of steak." Timon said. "Any chicken?" Simba asked. "We don't eat meat we're vegetarians. If you wanna live with us, you have to eat like us." Timon answered, as Pumba opened up a cupboard and brough out a wooden book full of Mangos, placing on the wooden table in the middle of the room.
"What are those?" Simba asked, looking at the contents, as Timon and Pumbaa (both on one side of the table, Simba across them on the other side) each took one out and began eating it. "Mangos. They grow on the trees around here. We farm these and sell some for money." Timon asked. "Juicy, yet satisfying." Pumbaa added with a smile. "Kid, I'm telling you, this is the great life. No rules, no responsibilities." Timon added. As he took out a Mango and held it out to Simba. "Oh, well, Hakuna Matata." Simba said to himself as he took the Mango and took a bite. Silence filled the room as he chewed it and swallowed it. "Juicy… yet… satisfying." Simba assed, with a smile. "That's it!" Timon replied happily. "We didn't lie!" Pumbaa said, also happily. "Excuse me for asking, but you're Americans, aren't you? The accents. What are Americans doing in Africa?" Simba asked. Timon and Pumbaa looked at each other nervously. Timon nodded at Pumbaa before they both stared at Simba. "We've known each other since we were 10. Back in 72, when we turned 18, we were to be conscripted into the army. No doubt to be sent to Vietnam. For a while we have been seeing and hearing on the news what was happening there, and we didn't want to go, so we left for Africa. I mean, look at us. We'd have been pretty pathetic soldiers." Pumbaa (aged 26) explained, the word "pathetic" was so familiar to Simba.
"What about your families?" Simba asked, curiously. "We still write to them, they to use, but we havent seen them or gone back since. Like it here too much to leave." Timon answered, before he then went over to chest of draws, opened one and pulled something out. "Hey, kid. Ever seen one of these?" He asked a he turned around and showed Simba what it was: A dark blue Sony Walkman. Simba's face filled with excitement as Timon handed it to him, a cassette tape already inside. "Oh, I've heard a lot about these!" He said, thrilled. "Yeah, some friends we still have in America mailed it to us." Timon explained as Simba placed the headphones over his ears and pressed the play button, and began dancing to the song. Timon and Pumbaa smiled at the happiness their new friend was experiencing.
And that's the ninth chapter. Hope you enjoyed it. Hope you understood and liked the differences. Still, I hope you liked them. For those who don't know, the Sony Walkman portable cassette player, introduced in 1979, was basically the MP3 player of the 1980s, and millions were sold. A Walkman was also used a lot in the Marvel movies "Guardians of the Galaxy" (2014) and "Guardians of the Galaxy vol 2" (2017) If you want to know more, look online. By the way, I used the ride Horses for a while. Look online if you don't understand the components I used. I came up the Vietnam part as a way of describing their origins. Timon and Pumbaa are the, draft dodgers (thousand of Americans emigrated abroad or to Canada to avoid conscription during the Vietnam War). I'm not American, but I know a lot of history. If you have different views on the terrible Vietnam war 9which I don't pay much attention to), no offense. The next chapter will be out soon. Please review.