Дуглас Престон - Jennie

It was awful. Just awful. This was the kind of thing we had to deal with every day.

Jennie was so upset when I was around that I couldn’t communicate with her. She was too busy screaming. I went to her cage several times a day and patiently tried to initiate a conversation. I kept signing Jennie be nice, please and Jennie be quiet , and If Jennie play with Fred, Jennie go for walk . I also tried in a crude way to explain to her that she was a chimpanzee, not a human, that Fred was also a chimpanzee, and that Fred wanted to be friends. None of it sunk in.

On the third day I finally got a reaction from Jennie. After signing for half an hour while Jennie screamed, she finally signed vigorously Bad bad!

I quickly signed What bad?

She signed Bad Pam bad .

Why Pam bad? I signed.

Bad Pam bite angry .

Then she began screaming and banging again.

I was so full of hope at this point! Dialogue is the first step toward understanding. I tried to encourage her by signing Why Pam bad? and If Jennie be quiet, Jennie go for walk . I tried to tell her in every way that if she quieted down, we would let her go for a walk.

It made no difference. It was so discouraging. She had started up again and worked herself into such a frenzy that she couldn’t focus on what I was signing. It was like the outside world ceased to exist for her, she was so mad.

George and I had many discussions. I finally persuaded him that maybe we should allow Jennie outside for a few hours. Just to see what would happen. This was, I think, the fifth day or sixth day. Let me see my notes here... No, it was on the seventh day.

So I entered Jennie’s cage and snapped a leash on her. She was quiet all of sudden. I was so hopeful. For a moment there I thought it would work. We left the building, Jennie’s hand in mine. Jennie immediately took the lead. She pulled me by the hand, and we went all over. Retracing the paths on the compound, down to the pier, in and out of every building. Finally we ended up at the bungalow the Archibalds had stayed in. I let her go where she wanted. It was a very purposeful exploration. Jennie had no interest in playing or in signing. I’m positive she was looking for the Archibalds.

Then a terrible thing happened. Jennie was very disappointed when we got to the Archibalds’ bungalow and they weren’t there. She looked under the bed, in the bathroom and closet, behind the doors. I could see she was disappointed, but she remained calm and quiet. She looked so... depressed.

I wasn’t prepared for what happened next.

When we left the bungalow, there was Dr. Gabriel walking across the lawn. Jennie saw him through the bushes in front and gave a low bark of aggression and suddenly lunged toward him. The leash was jerked out of my hand and Jennie rushed at Dr. Gabriel. Her hair in full piloerection. As she ran through the bushes she tore a branch off one and continued on, dragging and shaking the branch as she approached.

I called out to Dr. Gabriel, but he had already seen Jennie coming. Dr. Gabriel knew chimpanzees well. He knew immediately that Jennie was heading for an attack.

He turned to face her. You never run away from a chimpanzee. Jennie came straight on and veered past him at the last moment, whacking him across the shins with the branch. The branch cut one of his legs and gave him a nasty set of bruises.

She raced on to a eucalyptus tree and climbed it, still carrying the branch. When she was safely beyond our reach she sat on a limb and barked and screamed at us. I signed Jennie come down! But she continued to make a fuss, and threw the branch down at me.

I signed Bad Jennie come down now!

Jennie finally calmed down enough to respond. She signed Phooey , then she signed Bad bad angry phooey and every other bad word and obscene gesture she knew. It was quite a remarkable string of utterances, I daresay one of the most complex of her entire life. Bad phooey fuck you bad angry bite dirty dirty fuck you . Excuse my French. Sandy taught her how to give people the finger.

Dr. Gabriel was understandably angry. It had been an unprovoked attack. He stood underneath and shouted at Jennie, until I told him that maybe his presence was not going to encourage her to come down. I suggested he go back to his office, which he did.

At a certain point Jennie began mocking me by repeating every sign I made to her. She would sign back Bad Jennie! Jennie come down! imitating me. It made me really angry, until I realized, yet again, just how sophisticated Jennie’s understanding of human psychology was. How she could get under your skin!

So we spent a terrible two days trying to get Jennie out of the tree. She endured thirst and hunger rather than descend. We finally — and I hated having to do this — we finally had to tranquilize her with a dart. We lured her to a lower branch with food and we piled some mattresses around the base of the tree. Then Dr. Gabriel shot her, and she fell. She was of course unhurt.

We could only conclude that until Jennie was ready to be released on the island — that is, until she could learn to get along with other chimpanzees — she would have to stay in the cage. In her space.

When Jennie woke up from the tranquilizer, she was furious. She was angrier than ever. She worked herself into such a rage that she choked and spluttered for hours, unable even to scream. She had diarrhea all over herself and we had to spray the hose through the bars while she screamed and thrashed around. I felt so sorry for her.

What makes me so angry about this whole thing was that nobody told us what was going on down there! Dr. Prentiss never called to say that Jennie was having trouble adjusting or anything. And we called! We called almost every day. “Oh, everything’s as expected,” she sang out. “There are a few problems but nothing we can’t solve.” That kind of thing. All very vague and evasive.

Nothing about how she was screaming day and night. Nothing about having to shoot her out of a tree. Oh no. Everything was just hunky-dory. Those — I won’t even dignify them with a word — they were treating Jennie like a common criminal. I don’t know what scientific theory they were operating under that kept Jennie in a cage, but you don’t have to be a Harvard scientist to realize that that was going to upset her. And Prentiss kept telling us not to visit, because that would disrupt Jennie’s adjustment.

When Hugo and I returned to Kibbencook from Florida, Sandy was gone. He hadn’t gone with us to Florida, and as you know he was awfully against the whole idea. He was the only one who remained loyal. He has a heart of gold, that boy. It turned out he was at his girlfriend’s house, Sammie — you know, the one with the alcoholic mother. Apparently it was just fine with this woman to have her sixteen-year-old daughter sleeping with a boy right there under her roof. Poor Sandy, he was so hurt and confused.

The house was so empty when we returned. There was Sarah — lovely, comforting Sarah, of course — but everything seemed so quiet. In the morning it was as quiet as the grave. No more yells from a hungry chimpanzee, no more banging on the door. Gone were the squeals and hoots from a happy Jennie. No more endless requests for an apple or a tickle. When we lit a fire, there was no Jennie to roast the apples for us. There was no Jennie hammering away on the piano. The silence was eerie. It was like... like an unwelcome presence in the house. I complained to Hugo, but he had his office and his work, and I had to bear the empty house alone. Once again, the burden fell on me. Hugo just buried himself in his work after that. He was... changed.