Дуглас Престон - Jennie

We had discussed in almost endless detail the best way for Lea and I to help Jennie make the transition to her new life. Dr. Prentiss, Dr. Gabriel, and I felt a quick departure would be better than a long good-bye, but Lea objected. She wanted to stay and make sure Jennie had begun adjusting to her new surroundings before we left. She also wanted to see how Jennie was going to react to meeting other chimpanzees. We decided to stay for two days, during which we would be with Jennie at the center, play with her, and allow her free run of the place.

We drove down a long, dilapidated road. The palmettos gave way and we passed through the center’s rusted iron gates into a large expanse of green lawn sprinkled with buildings. Like the Barnum property, it had once been an estate, and it retained a parklike feeling. The main house, a stuccoed Spanish hacienda, had been converted to offices and living quarters. A long barn housed the chimpanzee cages, each with an outdoor run. The caretaker’s and gardener’s cottages had been converted to bungalows for visiting researchers, and we stayed in one of those with Jennie.

The first, and most critical, part of Jennie’s adjustment would be her meeting other chimpanzees. We planned to introduce her to a small chimpanzee named Fred, a former Barnum colony animal. Fred was very gentle and the lowest-ranking male in the chimpanzee hierarchy. As she learned to trust Fred, then she would be introduced to the others. When Dr. Gabriel felt assured there would be no conflicts, she would be released on the island to begin her new life.

We could not avoid putting Jennie in a cage when we left, because we all knew she was going to have a difficult time seeing us go. She had never, during her entire life, been separated from all the family members at once. How long she would take to calm down we did not know. In the meantime, Fred would inhabit the cage next to hers, and we expected they would soon become friends.

We spent the first night with Jennie in the bungalow. She was alert and excited, and a little apprehensive. Nothing like this had happened to her, and she did not quite know what to make of it. During the night she was restless, and around midnight wandered into our bedroom and snuggled under the covers between us. The next morning we ate breakfast with her at the main house and walked over the grounds. At noon, it was time for Jennie to meet her first live chimpanzee.

Fred was in a cage, where he would be safe should Jennie take a dislike to him. We brought Jennie around to the back of the complex, where the cages had outdoor runs. We were walking along, each holding one of Jennie’s hands, when we rounded the corner and Jennie saw Fred.

She stopped and froze. Instantly all the hair on her body was standing on end. Fred glanced at her and continued with his business, sucking on a banana peel, not terribly interested.

But Jennie was interested. I heard a sound rumble up from deep in her throat, a sound I had never heard before. It was almost a growl, such as one might hear from an angry tomcat. Then she slowly backed up and went behind Lea’s legs and crouched down, gripping her legs, trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible.

We sat down about ten yards from the cage. Jennie was, I believe, terrified of Fred, and continued to hide behind our backs, sometimes peeping around the side to take a surreptitious look. We tried grooming Jennie — which usually soothed her — but she shook us off. She ignored the banana we offered her. All she did was stare at Fred and growl.

I pointed to Fred and signed What’s that?

She stared for a long time and then signed, slowly and clumsily Black bug, black bug . We sat there for a good part of three hours without any visible change of behavior. Jennie had received a deep shock to her psyche.

After seeing Fred, Jennie’s behavior changed dramatically. Wherever we went in the compound she was quiet and alert. When we tried to play with her on the lawn she pushed us away and sat down, looking all about her, as if afraid Fred would suddenly materialize from behind the palm trees. At the squawk of a bird or the rustle of wind she was up and looking about, her hair bristling, issuing a soft “Wraaaa” bark. She completely lost her appetite.

Dr. Gabriel reassured us that Jennie’s reaction was not unusual. He said that chimpanzees are suspicious of each other when they first meet, even if they are used to being with their own kind. The main point, he felt, was to give the relationship time and not push it. Jennie would set her own schedule, and when she was ready to meet Fred on friendly terms she would. When we left, he would put Jennie in a cage next to Fred and let them get used to each other over a week or two.

Lea was uneasy about putting Jennie in a cage, but Dr. Gabriel explained that there was no alternative. The cage was huge — almost as big as a small house, with both outdoor and indoor facilities. Jennie would have all her toys and lots of good food. Dr. Gabriel and the staff would visit and play with her every day. With Fred in the adjoining cage, the two chimps could have continuous contact with each other without danger. He expected a quick adjustment.

Our last night in the bungalow, Jennie hardly slept at all. She crouched on the foot of the bed, looking around and sucking on her fingers, sometimes rocking back and forth. There is no doubt she sensed a big change was coming in her life. The thought of leaving Jennie was weighing heavily on us, and, if the truth be told, we all passed a grim night. I remember telling myself that this was only an animal, that we had two lovely children, but for the first time in my life my intellect could not communicate with my heart. I could hardly bear the thought of giving her up. I wondered then, and I wonder today, what the biological basis of such an attachment could have been. She was, after all, not even a member of my own species. Lea was very quiet, but I felt she was as upset as I was.

We rose at 6:00 A.M., before sunrise, and walked down to the bayou with Jennie. It was a cloudy day and instead of a sunrise the gray light seemed to come up out of the water. At 7:00 A.M. we brought Jennie to Fred’s cage again, but her reaction was unchanged: she growled and bristled up her hair and hid. She made every effort to get us away from Fred’s cage, pulling on our hands and stamping with anger, trying to swagger off but soon scurrying back with a grin of fear. She signed Dirty, dirty repeatedly in a transparent effort to get us to take her to the bathroom, and then she signed Chase Jennie chase-tickle Jennie in another effort to lure us away from the cage. When none of these strategems worked she sulked behind Lea, gripping her with one hand and sucking miserably on some dry leaves with the other.

We ate breakfast with Dr. Gabriel in his quarters. Jennie continued to refuse food. Dr. Gabriel suggested that it would be better in the beginning if Jennie and Fred were separated by an empty cage, so that Jennie would not be unduly upset by Fred’s close proximity. We discussed over breakfast the best way to get Jennie into the cage before we left. We were scheduled to fly back to Boston that afternoon, and we had to leave for the airport about 11:30 A.M.

When it came time to bring Jennie into the building where her cage was, she refused to enter. We tried luring her in with food, but she ignored all treats. One of the center’s workers, a man named Finney, snapped a lead on her and tried to pull her in, but he ended up in a tug-of-war that anyone would have known he would lose. Lea felt that it was counterproductive to try to force Jennie into the building, and she made a suggestion. We went inside the building and began playing with Fred through the bars of his cage. As soon as she saw this, Jennie came swaggering in, her hair standing up, and gave Fred her most threatening “Wraaaaa” bark. Dr. Gabriel quickly shut the door.