Half Brother (27 page)

“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.”

They wouldn’t let me stay with Zan another night. I had to say goodbye to him through the bars. We signed for a bit. We’d never taught him
tomorrow,
so it was hard to explain I was coming back. At home, he took it for granted that every day when he woke, we’d be there. It was all different now. He didn’t even have his favourite toy.

“He’ll be okay,” Peter said to me. “He’s tough. The way he stood up to Sheba. That was something.”

“He’s a survivor,” Helson said, and I felt vaguely grateful to him. “We’ll see you tomorrow. Not first thing. Come midmorning. It’s important he starts making the transition.”

Making the transition
meant getting used to being without us. For good.

It smelled like chocolate cake when we arrived at the chimp house the next day, around ten-thirty.

“It’s Sam’s birthday,” Peter explained to me, nodding to one of the male chimps in the colony. He was a distinguished-looking fellow with a greying beard. “He’s twenty, our oldest.”

Two of Helson’s research assistants, Marcus and Patricia,
had bought one of those big square supermarket cakes and were dividing it up. All the chimps could smell it and were getting really excited.

I went straight to Zan. He came to the bars and we touched each other and kissed.

Out hurry out,
he signed.

He wanted to get back into that field and play again.

Yes,
I signed back to him, and said, “Soon” because we’d never been able to teach him that sign. For Zan everything was
now.

Fish,
he signed, which made me smile, because Peter had just taught him that one yesterday when he was watching the fish in the pond.

Fish,
I signed back and nodded. “Soon.”

Patricia was bringing the first piece of cake to Sam. Each cage door had an opening in the middle, about twice the size of a letter slot, so the chimps could reach out and get their own food.

I noticed that Sam’s cage was sealed off from the others for now, probably so he could enjoy his birthday cake in peace. Looking around the chimp house I noticed that the two other chimps who’d been hanging out with Zeus had quietly left his cage so they wouldn’t have to compete with him for their fair share.

Zeus stared hard at Sam, at the cake, at Patricia bringing him the cake.

When Sam had the cake in his hand, Patricia and Marcus and Peter started singing “Happy Birthday to You.” We all
joined in, and were about six words into it when Zeus gave such a shriek that I actually jumped. He rattled the bars of his cage.

“I guess he wants his cake now,” I said, leaning close to Peter so I could be heard.

“Actually, he wanted it first,” Peter said. “They usually feed the highest ranking chimp first so no one gets upset.”

I watched as Zeus strode powerfully through the tunnel into Sheba and Igor’s cage. It was right next to Sam’s but was, of course, sealed off.

“Better get him some cake fast,” Patricia said.

But before she even reached the slot, Zeus had given Sheba a hard smack across the chest. She cowered in submission, but Zeus kept at her.

“Why’s he doing that?” I exclaimed.

“He’s ticked off,” said Marcus. “He’s taking it out on Sheba—Zeus! No!”

But Zeus barely looked over. Instead he turned on Igor and displayed, his hair shooting out. I knew from all the time I’d spent grooming Zan that chimp hair was surprisingly long. When it stood out, it made the chimp look double his size. Zeus was huge now, a monster from a movie.

Igor displayed too, but without as much conviction. Zeus went for him and bit him on the arm, then the toes, like he was trying to chomp them off. Marcus started unravelling the water hose towards the cage.

“Call Helson!” he called to Patricia, and she ran for the phone.

I went over to Zan, who was watching all this, wide-eyed. I crouched down next to him and his hand reached out through the bars and clutched mine.

Marcus was about to start hosing down Zeus when Helson came in with a shotgun.

“Step back!” he told Marcus, then shouted: “Zeus! Down!”

Zeus spun on him, in full fight mode, mouth wide.

The look on Helson’s face was almost as scary. His eyes had narrowed to slits, and his lips were pulled back so you could see all his teeth meeting in a deadly grimace. It was the face a soldier might make before running someone through with a bayonet.