Дуглас Престон - Jennie

We then faced the problem of getting her into the cage itself. It was a huge cage with metal bars on the bottom and chain link on top. It had both an indoor and outdoor area, so it did not, we felt, resemble anything she might associate with imprisonment. We brought her duffel bag of toys and dumped them on the floor of the cage, and both Lea and I went inside and began playing with them, while Dr. Gabriel and Finney waited outside. Soon Jennie had come in and was driving her toy fire truck around. The presence of her familiar toys seemed to relax her. We played for a few minutes until Jennie had become engrossed.

Then Dr. Gabriel said quietly: “I think it’s time now,” and gestured toward the cage door.

We nonchalantly edged over.

Dr. Gabriel said, “Please leave quickly. Now.”

We both ducked out and Finney slammed the door shut and locked it.

That was the last time Lea or I saw Jennie, and it was the end of her delightful, fascinating, and effervescent presence in our lives.

I will never forget you, Jennie.

[Editor’s note: this rather abrupt ending is presented here exactly as written by Dr. Archibald. It is the last mention of Jennie in his memoir.]

It was just awful when we had to say good-bye to Jennie. I feel so ashamed. We tricked her into the cage. She was so trusting, so... I can never forgive myself for what we did. Poor Hugo; I think it just about broke his heart.

We were in the cage, playing with Jennie’s toys. It was my idea. They said she would only be in the cage for a few days. So Hugo and I were in there, and Jennie came in. We played. Or we tried to. Right in the middle of it I saw that these... Oh dear... [At this point Mrs. Archibald began to weep.]

While Hugo was playing with one of Jennie’s toys... I saw that a tear was trickling down his face... It wasn’t anything dramatic, just a single tear... Hugo never cried, you see. He was old-fashioned in that way.

Gabriel then told us to leave.

So then we got up quickly and left. Before Jennie knew what was happening. And Gabriel slammed the door of the cage and locked it.

Right then Jennie realized . She knew exactly what had happened. How she had been betrayed by us, the two people she trusted most in the world... Oh dear God... Do we have to go through this?... I’m sorry. No, no, I’m quite all right. I’m just a useless old lady. Jennie started to scream. It was a terrible scream. We were walking to the exit of the barn. And suddenly I realized Hugo wasn’t with me. I looked around... He had stopped and turned. Jennie’s arms were straining through the bars of the cage. She was reaching toward him, toward us... And... Hugo held out his arms to her, and then he made this sound, like he was choking, and I realized he was sobbing... And he said, “I’m so sorry, Jennie. Please forgive me. Oh God, forgive me, Jennie, I’m so sorry...”

We had to help him out; he could hardly walk... It was my fault; I’m the one who made him give up Jennie... I just can’t... no more... Please...

After the Archibalds left, I stayed on. Jennie knew me, and we felt that someone from her old life should help her make the transition. Despite a heavy teaching load at Tufts and several research projects, I made the time.

Jennie wasn’t like the other chimpanzees we had had at the center. She presented terrible difficulties. Her erratic and chaotic upbringing had not prepared her for her new life, which by its very nature would be more regimented. Now everyone keeps talking about Jennie being put in a “cage.” This is a misnomer. The cage was enormous. There was a jungle gym, tire swings, climbing platforms, dead trees, a sandbox, and a little pool of water. The ceiling was a good twenty-five feet up. It was much larger than her room back in Kibbencook. Which, by the way, had been virtually turned into a prison by Mrs. Archibald. Her new area was nearly the size of a small house. It had a 400-square-foot indoor space and a 200-square-foot outdoor run. These “cages” were the largest primate enclosures that had ever been built outside of a zoo habitat. So let’s get over this business of “Jennie being locked up in a cage,” okay? I’m so tired of hearing that shit. This cage was a lot larger and nicer than the apartment in Boston that I lived in for over ten years. She had all her toys, favorite clothes, and favorite foods. She lacked nothing.

Jennie suffered terrible separation anxiety. She screamed day and night. She was used to getting her way with the Archibalds by acting up. And separation from friends appears to be even more difficult for chimpanzees than for humans. She’d been with the Archibalds all her life. She’d never been away from them for even a day. No wonder she was upset!

We decided we shouldn’t let her out of the cage until she calmed down, since it would seem like a “reward” to her and only make her scream louder when she was put back in. We did not want to reward bad behavior. Instead, we planned to start taking her out after she calmed down. You understand? I mean, if we started taking her out every day, that would reinforce her bad behavior. You see what I mean?

Even after three days she had not settled down. There were periods of silence. As soon as she saw someone she would begin screaming again. And hammering on the bars of her cage. When Dr. Gabriel fed her, she threatened him and often threw the food back at him. She took a marked dislike to Dr. Gabriel. I think she associated him with her change of life. Certainly it had no rational basis, this dislike. Except perhaps that Dr. Gabriel was a little intimidated by her. Jennie often acted badly toward those who were afraid of her.

She didn’t threaten me, but my presence made her unbelievably shrill. It was like she was begging me to help her. Oh! It was hard to listen to that! But what you have to understand is that the best thing for Jennie was to adjust as quickly as possible to the presence of other chimpanzees. Listen to me. It would’ve done her no favor at all to release her every time she screamed. And then of course we never would have gotten her back in. The sooner she adjusted to other chimps, the quicker she could be released on the island. Everything we did was right.

Jennie hated the other chimps. We were shocked. Although fear and aggression is normal when strange chimpanzees meet each other, I’d never seen anything quite like it. Really. She hated them. This would have changed, eventually. I’ve never seen a chimpanzee that didn’t adjust to others of its own kind.

Now that magazine writer criticized me for not having the Archibalds come down. Mrs. Archibald told a lot of lies to him. But you see, this was important for Jennie’s adjustment. Jennie had to make a clean break from her old life. Any contact with the Archibalds would have been devastating. You saw what happened. We were absolutely right. Naturally, when she got used to her new life the Archibalds would have been welcome to visit.

We couldn’t have just let her go on the island. Once Jennie tried to kill another chimpanzee. You see, when Jennie rejected Fred we tried her with another. Sallie. A juvenile female, very submissive. We put her in the adjacent cage.

For a while Jennie continued to scream. But later we heard her screaming stop. There was a one-way viewing mirror in the building, and Dr. Gabriel happened to be watching when he saw this terrible thing. Jennie had calmed down. She was at the bars separating her from Sallie. Of course Sallie had been terrified by Jennie and was on the other side of the cage, but Jennie started to act real friendly. She waited there with her arms through the bars, occasionally signing Play, play to Sallie, who did not, by the way, know ASL. She fooled Dr. Gabriel and she fooled Sallie. Dr. Gabriel was getting excited, thinking the breakthrough was at hand. Sallie began edging over until she got within Jennie’s reach. All of a sudden Jennie grabbed her and, quite literally, tried to kill her. Sallie managed to get away, but she had suffered a sprained arm and a deep bite wound on her hand.