“And his G.I. Joe,” I said. “He likes that one best.”
Helson exhaled impatiently. Dad, who was standing outside the cage, nodded. “I see no benefit in traumatizing Zan on his first night,” he said.
The two men looked at each other. “One blanket, nothing more,” said Helson.
I wanted to hit him. I wanted to hurt him.
“That’s his favourite,” Mom said to me quietly, nodding at the one I’d already put out. She carefully laid Zan down on it. I folded it over him. Mom headed out of the cage. I closed up the suitcase and as I stood, I looked at all the people on the other side of the bars: Mom. Dad. Helson. Peter.
“We can’t leave him here,” I said.
No one replied. I looked at Peter and all my fury flew towards him. “He won’t be happy here. You could’ve told us it would be like this. You saw this place. It’s just a zoo!”
“Young man, listen to me,” said Helson, and his severe voice made my eyes snap to his. “You may not like the look of these cages, but I can assure you, my facilities are as good as it gets in this country. The chimps have large cages, space to play outside, and they have company. They’re well fed and have the best vet in the state looking after them. That would be my wife. And they don’t have people sticking needles into them and injecting them with hepatitis.”
I looked down at my shoes, my heart pounding, so much noise in my head.
Mom came back inside the cage and leaned her forehead against mine. “He’s right, Ben,” she said. “There aren’t a lot of places willing to take a chimp, and we tried to find the best one. I really think this is it.”
“I’m staying with him tonight,” I said.
“Not in the cage,” said Helson. “If anything happens to you, I’m liable.”
“Zan would never hurt me,” I told him angrily.
Helson chuckled. “They’re full of surprises. Especially when under stress.”
“Outside the cage, then,” I said.
“Ben, you’re not sleeping outside the cage,” said Dad.
Mom looked at him. “Let him, if he wants.”
The way she said it, the way she looked at Dad, I knew he wouldn’t argue.
“Suit yourself,” said Helson. “Hard floor. It won’t be comfy. No room service here. And stay away from the other chimp cages.”
“I’ve got a sleeping bag in the back of my car,” Peter told me. “I’ll get it out for you.”
After I got settled outside Zan’s cage, Mom and Dad said goodbye, and Peter drove them to their motel. I lay there very still. I didn’t want to upset the other chimps, most of whom seemed to have calmed down and gone to sleep.
I did not sleep. I kept my eyes on Zan, who was starting to stir more and more as the tranquilizer finally wore off. It seemed to take him forever to wake up properly. Or maybe he was awake and it was just taking him a long time to figure out where on earth he was.
“Zan,” I called out to him softly. I didn’t want to get the other chimps going.
Eventually he lifted his head. His eyes met mine. He gave a happy pant-hoot and scampered clumsily over, dragging his blanket with him. He settled down in front of me, right against the bars. They didn’t seem to freak him out yet. He probably didn’t understand what they were. We touched each other through the bars, stroking each other’s hair and hands and faces.
Where shirt? he signed, noticing for the first time he wasn’t wearing any clothes. No shirt, I replied.
He didn’t seem upset. He’d always hated his diaper, and getting dressed. Maybe he’d actually be happier naked. He signed Zan eat.
Peter had left me with some food and water, figuring Zan would be hungry if he woke up in the middle of the night. I had several chunks of something that looked like meat loaf, and Zan took them eagerly as I passed them through the bars. If anything, he seemed excited, like this was all a fun adventure.
In, he signed, inviting me inside.
No.
You in.
I shook my head and signed no again. He looked around at his cage, this time with more concentration.
Out. You me out. Now out. No.
Hurry out!
I tried to distract him by tickling him through the bars. This seemed to work for a bit. I’d kept his favourite G.I. Joe toy stuffed in my pocket, and passed it to him, and he tucked it under his armpit and pulled his blanket around him more. I wished I’d kept more of his toys on me so he could make his protective circle, but Peter had taken the suitcase back to his place.
I was worried Zan was getting upset, so I talked to him as I groomed him. I started telling him the story of his day, and of flying on an airplane, but he wouldn’t remember any of that, and anyway it was such a sad story I couldn’t keep going.
So I made up another story—I told him about how, when the sun came up, we would go out and play and there would be trees and plants and branches and we would have lots of tickling and hide-and-seek.
I just kept telling this over and over, my voice getting slower and sleepier, until his eyelids drooped and we fell asleep together, side by side, touching through the bars.
TWENTY
THE RANCH
I was woken by the sound of the big chimps hooting and shrieking, and a voice saying, “Rise and shine, mate.” I squinted up from my sleeping bag to see a big guy uncoiling a long hose down the walkway.
“Time to clean the cages,” he said. He sounded Australian. “I’m Marcus. You must be Ben, right?”
The other chimps seemed to know what to do. They moved through the tunnels into other cages while Marcus hosed down the floors, washing yesterday’s food and urine and feces down the drains.
Light poured through the high barred windows and Zan looked around properly for the first time. He stared and stared at the other chimps. I wondered what he was thinking. He’d never seen another chimp before in his life, except for pictures of himself. But those pictures were always beside photos of me and Mom and Dad and Peter. He was one of us. Not one of them. Finally he turned to me and signed:
Black dogs.
Not far from our house in Victoria there was a huge black Rottweiler and that was pretty much the biggest animal Zan had ever seen before now. I didn’t know how to tell him he was the same—or even if I should. Maybe it was better he figured it out in his own time.
Marcus saved our cage till last and I quickly pulled Zan’s blanket and toy through the bars and urged him to one side so Marcus could hose down his floor. There wasn’t much to clean up. Zan was pretty interested in watching the water swirl down the drain. Then he walked over to the water and had a pee, hooting with delight.
I couldn’t help laughing. I was just glad he was happy. I still wasn’t used to seeing him naked, though. He looked so small and young compared to the others. And he already looked less like one of us.
Once Marcus was done, another person came to help feed the chimps their breakfast. While all that was going on, Peter arrived with Mom and Dad. They’d brought me an Egg McMuffin and orange juice from McDonald’s.
“How was your night?” Mom asked, hugging me. Dad put a hand on my shoulder.
“It was okay,” I said. “He woke up and stayed up a long time, but he didn’t seem too scared. He calls the other chimps black dogs.”
“Hah!” said Dad. “The power of cross-fostering.” Soon after, Dr. Helson and his wife arrived. I guessed their kids had gone off to school.
When they unlocked Zan’s cage and I went inside, he was so excited he nearly strangled me, hugging and kissing me. Dr. Helson watched us with a rueful smile. Mrs. Helson wanted to examine Zan, but it took a while to get him off me. She had an excellent, reassuring manner with him, and he let her poke and prod him.
“He’s a very healthy little chimp,” she announced.
“That’s good,” said Helson. “In a chimp colony, the weak can be victimized. The faster we integrate him, the better chance he has of being accepted. We’ll introduce him to Sheba later today. She lost h
er own baby four months ago.”
“What happened?” Mom asked.
“One of the other males bit its face off,” said Helson matter-of-factly.
I looked over at him in horror.
“A mother typically takes care of a chimp for at least five years,” Mrs. Helson explained. “It’s a big time investment for her, and she won’t have any other babies during that time. We’d bred her with Maxwell, because they seemed natural mates.”
“Zeus got jealous,” Helson went on, looking at my mother. “He thought if he took the baby out of the equation, he’d have a chance of mating with Sheba and producing his own offspring. Not that they always know who the father is anyway. A female in estrus tends to be quite generous. She’ll mate with many males.”
I wished I hadn’t eaten breakfast; the aftertaste in my mouth was making my stomach churn.
“Will Zan be safe with Sheba?” I wanted to know. “I mean, that other baby …”
“The other baby was very small, quite defenceless,” said Helson. “Zan’s much bigger. I suspect it’ll be an altogether different proposition. Here’s Sheba.”
He pointed a couple of cages over. Sheba was tall and rangy, chewing happily on a big piece of the chimp-loaf and a head of lettuce.
“I’ll be very interested to see if her maternal instinct kicks in with Zan,” said Dr. Helson.
The way he said it—very interested to see—made it sound like another experiment, and one that might not turn out very well.
“Sheba’s gentle,” Peter said to me. “And Maxwell too.” He nodded at an even bigger chimp that was in the cage with Sheba. “He’s a sweetheart. Very patient, and nurturing too.”
“But not strong enough to save his baby,” I said.
“We introduced Zeus too early,” said Dr. Helson. “That was a miscalculation.”
“And these are our boys,” said Mrs. Helson affectionately, as we walked to the next cage.
They still looked pretty big to me, at least two or three times Zan’s size. “They’ve lost their tail tufts,” I noted. “So that makes them at least five?”
“Very good,” said Mrs. Helson, giving me a smile. “Igor is six and Caliban is seven.”
“I’ll be working with these two on signing,” Peter said. “And I’m pretty sure Zan will play a big part in teaching them.”
I’d already known that Peter would be working with the other chimps too, but it still gave me a pang that he wouldn’t just be taking care of Zan.
A couple of other chimpers, Sven and Patricia, came in to take Igor and Caliban out for their morning walks. In their hands they held neck collars with long chain-link leashes.
“Take them to the south paddock today,” Helson instructed them. “We’ll let Zan have the east field to himself, just for now.”
“Thank you,” said Mom.
I was watching as Sven and Patricia went into the cage and attached the metal collars to the chimps. Igor and Caliban seemed used to it, and barely protested. It made them look like giant, oversized dogs—but to me, mostly, they seemed like prisoners. Helson ushered us out of the way as they headed from the building. From a rack on the wall, each chimper took a long pole.
“What’re those?” I asked.
“Cattle prods,” said Helson. “Everyone carries one when they’re working with the chimps. Safety policy.”
I looked at Peter. Something else he hadn’t told us.
“Zan doesn’t need a cattle prod,” I said. “Or a collar.”
Helson said, “Don’t underestimate his strength. And remember, my fellows are a lot older, and a lot stronger. Zeus here is 175 pounds and seven times stronger than me.”
So this was Zeus. The one that had bitten off the baby’s face. Sitting, eating, he didn’t seem so monstrous. But I guess I must have gotten too close to his cage, because he suddenly leapt up, all shoulders and arms, and jaws wide and fierce. He ran on two legs to the bars, shrieking. I jumped back, my heart beating so fast and hard, I worried I’d faint. Mom stepped back too. Helson and his wife, I noticed, held their ground, as did Dad and Peter. Watching me, Zeus filled his mouth with water from the spigot near the floor. “Look out,” Helson said.
Too late. Zeus sprayed the water, drenching me.
“He’s asserting his dominance,” Helson explained. He took a scraggly towel from a hook on the wall and tossed it at me. “You’re small, and you looked scared, so he knew he could get away with it. You’d never try anything like that with me, would you, Zeus, old boy?”
Helson stood very close to the cage, close enough that Zeus could easily have reached through and grabbed him. But Zeus did nothing, just dropped to all fours and shambled back to his food.
I patted myself dry with the towel. “At least he doesn’t share a cage with anyone else,” I said with relief.
Mrs. Helson seemed surprised. “Oh no, he’s quite sociable. He’s our alpha male. But he feeds alone. The others know there’s no point being near him at feeding time. Unless they want to get smacked and wait for his seconds.”
Peter, Mom, and I took Zan out to the east field to play. Dad had things he wanted to discuss with Dr. Helson. When I saw Peter putting the collar on Zan, I started to object, but he glanced at me and shook his head.
And I knew, in that moment, that Zan was no longer mine. Not that he’d ever belonged to me, not like a cat or dog—but now Peter was about to take over as the most important person in his life. In some ways he had been for months. No one spent more of his waking hours with Zan.
Once we were inside the fenced field, Peter took off the collar, and we played with Zan. He loved all the space, and the trees, and the fallen branches, and the little pond that Helson kept stocked with fish. In some ways, it was better than what he had in our backyard, and I began to wonder if he’d be happier here.
Dad joined us later with a picnic lunch, which we all ate on the grass together, big blanket spread out. My throat still felt like it had a fist clenched in it, but I ate some food, trying to smile and be cheerful for Zan.
Afterwards, he didn’t want his collar put back on, and as we neared the chimp house, he held back, pulling against his lead. Peter let him come up into his arms, and we carried him into the building.
Helson was waiting for us. As Peter took Zan back inside his cage, Zan started crying and very nearly climbed out of Peter’s arms, but Peter laid out Zan’s blanket and his G.I. Joe toy and got Zan interested in a game of hide-and-seek. He hid the toy at the far end of the cage and as Zan scampered over to claim it, Peter crept out and locked the door. It was a dirty trick, and Peter knew it. He didn’t look happy.
I noticed that in the next cage, Sheba was sitting alone. Helson pulled a lever and the gate between the two cages slid up.
Then we waited.
It was a long wait. First they just ignored each other, and then, after about half an hour, Sheba walked through the tunnel into Zan’s cage. It was the first time I’d seen Zan so close to another chimp, and he looked small and defenceless.
When he saw Sheba enter the cage he stood up on both legs and displayed. Chest thrown out, arms high, hands slapping at his chest, he shrieked and hooted.
“Excellent,” said Helson.
I felt kind of proud of Zan’s bravery, but scared too. I didn’t want him provoking Sheba into a fight. Sheba didn’t seem very impressed by Zan’s antics. She sniffed around his cage and then caught sight of his blanket.
“This should prove interesting,” said Helson.
Sheba picked up the blanket and rubbed it in her hands. Zan took a few steps closer and very urgently but clearly signed:
My blanket. Zan blanket.
This meant nothing to Sheba. She held the blanket and rubbed it against her face; she seemed to enjoy its softness. Zan shrieked impatiently.
Sheba threw the blanket at him, which shut Zan up—until she picked up his G.I. Joe, his baby.
Sheba held it quite tenderly in her hand, and I was hopeful, wondering if she was
remembering her own little baby.
Zan signed, My baby. Give baby!
“No,” I whispered as he scampered closer to Sheba, hand outstretched, shrieking.
Sheba sniffed at the toy and crushed it in her hands. The plastic pieces fell to the floor. Zan flipped out. When he ran to gather the pieces, Sheba caught him by the arm, picked him up and threw him across the cage like a stuffed animal. Zan hit the floor hard. Sheba was walking towards him swiftly, and she did not look happy.
“Do something!” I shouted at Helson.
Swiftly Helson opened the cage door and went inside, holding a cattle prod.
“Sheba,” he said. “Cage.” And he pointed, with the cattle prod, at the tunnel.
Sheba’s eyes were on that cattle prod. She obviously knew what it could do. She turned and walked, slowly, back into her own cage.
“Seal it off,” Helson told Peter.
Peter pulled the lever, and then I rushed inside to check on Zan. I held him. He was shaken, but he didn’t seem badly hurt.
“She could’ve killed him!” I said.
“She could’ve, but she didn’t want to,” said Helson calmly. “She was just annoyed. It may be too early for Sheba to nurture again. One never knows in captivity. Many females lose their nurturing instinct altogether. Once I saw a mother tear the arms off her own newborn.”
I didn’t know how much more I wanted to hear from Helson. From Mom’s books, I already knew chimps could be brutal with each other, but could also be kind and loving. They shared things. They taught each other how to use tools. Mostly they were very tolerant of the babies. But Helson’s view of chimps seemed altogether darker.
“I think we should keep Zan alone at least another night,” Peter said.
“I’d agree with that,” Dad said.
“Can’t you introduce him to some of the younger ones?” Mom asked. “Caliban or Igor?”
“It’s important he has an adult to look out for him first,” said Helson.
“What about Rachel?” Peter suggested.
Helson considered this. “Her ranking’s too low to lend him much status, but she might take to him. We’ll see.”