Mom wanted to find out just how similar the two species were. What made a chimp a chimp, and what made a humana human? She figured there might be some things that were purely chimp-like, and even if we raised Zan as a human, he’d never lose them.
Dad wasn’t very interested in this part. What he cared about was whether we could teach Zan language.
Zan finished his bottle and Mom put him down on the kitchen floor. He liked to walk around on all fours, pulling up on the chairs and cupboards. He still wasn’t strong enough to climb onto things yet. After a while he scampered over to Mom’s foot and sat on it, his long arms tight around her leg.
Mom walked around for a while like that, laughing, and then reached down and lifted Zan up, where he snuggled happily against her chest.
We talked about Windermere and the uniform and what private schools were like, and how I shouldn’t ever think the kids there were smarter or better than other kids. I loved talking to Mom because I never felt like she was trying to study me. With Dad I sometimes got the feeling he wanted me to think something, or realize something, or admit something. Mom and I just talked.
When Dad got home from the university he called out hello from the front door and came into the kitchen. He gave Mom a big hug and kiss, and Zan went really weird. He started hooting and pushing at Dad’s arms—like he didn’t want him to be touching Mom. At first Dad laughed and Mom did too, but then Zan seemed to get even more upset, and I saw his mouth open and before I knew it, he bit Dad on the wrist.
Dad pulled his arm back. Zan shrieked at him.
“No, Zan!” said Dad. “No biting!”
But Zan ducked his head lower, trying to bite Dad’s hand again.
As I watched in astonishment, Dad leaned down swiftly, grabbed Zan’s shoulders, and bit him on the ear.
Zan squealed and flung himself against Mom, clinging tight, peeing through his diaper all over Mom’s shirt.
“You bit him!” I yelled.
“Yeah, I bit him,” said Dad. “Now he’ll know not to bite me ever again. It’s a tip I got from the chimp handler at the Chicago zoo.”
I rushed over and looked at Zan’s ear. There wasn’t any blood. There wasn’t even any mark.
“He’s fine,” Dad said. “A bit of a shock, that’s all.”
Mom frowned at Dad. “They’re very protective, Richard. He might have thought you were attacking me.”
“We can’t have him biting,” said Dad.
“He’s terrified of you now!” I exclaimed.
“He
needs
to be scared of me,” said Dad. “He needs to know I’m the dominant male.”
I shook my head, not understanding. “But you said we were raising him like a human. When I was a baby you didn’t bite
me
on the ear.” I looked over at Mom. “Did he?”
“Of course not,” Dad said. “But he’s not human, Ben, all right? We can raise him like a human for the purposes of the study, but he’s still a chimp, and we need to be able to manage him.”
“You didn’t need to bite him,” I muttered, and looked at Mom, hoping she’d come to my defence. She looked sad, but not angry.
“Your dad’s right, Ben,” she said. “If we let Zan bite now, it’ll be harder to get him to stop later, when his teeth come in. Chimps want to dominate. Dad needs to be the dominant male. Now, I need to change my shirt.”
She tried to pass Zan to me, but he clung tight and wouldn’t let go. I felt a little hurt that he wouldn’t let me comfort him, but I guess it was natural he’d want his mother right now. She went upstairs with him.
Dad put his hand on my shoulder. “It’s all right, Ben,” he said.
But I didn’t want to look at him, and the Dominant Male went off to mix himself a drink.
F IVE
B EAVER L AKE
J ennifer Godwin and I lay side by side on the sand.
It was the day after Dad had bit Zan. David had called me up and asked if I wanted to go to Beaver Lake with him and Jennifer. Maybe his father had put him up to it. I didn’t know. I
Dad wasn’t very interested in this part. What he cared about was whether we could teach Zan language.
Zan finished his bottle and Mom put him down on the kitchen floor. He liked to walk around on all fours, pulling up on the chairs and cupboards. He still wasn’t strong enough to climb onto things yet. After a while he scampered over to Mom’s foot and sat on it, his long arms tight around her leg.
Mom walked around for a while like that, laughing, and then reached down and lifted Zan up, where he snuggled happily against her chest.
We talked about Windermere and the uniform and what private schools were like, and how I shouldn’t ever think the kids there were smarter or better than other kids. I loved talking to Mom because I never felt like she was trying to study me. With Dad I sometimes got the feeling he wanted me to think something, or realize something, or admit something. Mom and I just talked.
When Dad got home from the university he called out hello from the front door and came into the kitchen. He gave Mom a big hug and kiss, and Zan went really weird. He started hooting and pushing at Dad’s arms—like he didn’t want him to be touching Mom. At first Dad laughed and Mom did too, but then Zan seemed to get even more upset, and I saw his mouth open and before I knew it, he bit Dad on the wrist.
Dad pulled his arm back. Zan shrieked at him.
“No, Zan!” said Dad. “No biting!”
But Zan ducked his head lower, trying to bite Dad’s hand again.
As I watched in astonishment, Dad leaned down swiftly, grabbed Zan’s shoulders, and bit him on the ear.
Zan squealed and flung himself against Mom, clinging tight, peeing through his diaper all over Mom’s shirt.
“You bit him!” I yelled.
“Yeah, I bit him,” said Dad. “Now he’ll know not to bite me ever again. It’s a tip I got from the chimp handler at the Chicago zoo.”
I rushed over and looked at Zan’s ear. There wasn’t any blood. There wasn’t even any mark.
“He’s fine,” Dad said. “A bit of a shock, that’s all.”
Mom frowned at Dad. “They’re very protective, Richard. He might have thought you were attacking me.”
“We can’t have him biting,” said Dad.
“He’s terrified of you now!” I exclaimed.
“He
needs
to be scared of me,” said Dad. “He needs to know I’m the dominant male.”
I shook my head, not understanding. “But you said we were raising him like a human. When I was a baby you didn’t bite
me
on the ear.” I looked over at Mom. “Did he?”
“Of course not,” Dad said. “But he’s not human, Ben, all right? We can raise him like a human for the purposes of the study, but he’s still a chimp, and we need to be able to manage him.”
“You didn’t need to bite him,” I muttered, and looked at Mom, hoping she’d come to my defence. She looked sad, but not angry.
“Your dad’s right, Ben,” she said. “If we let Zan bite now, it’ll be harder to get him to stop later, when his teeth come in. Chimps want to dominate. Dad needs to be the dominant male. Now, I need to change my shirt.”
She tried to pass Zan to me, but he clung tight and wouldn’t let go. I felt a little hurt that he wouldn’t let me comfort him, but I guess it was natural he’d want his mother right now. She went upstairs with him.
Dad put his hand on my shoulder. “It’s all right, Ben,” he said.
But I didn’t want to look at him, and the Dominant Male went off to mix himself a drink.
F IVE
B EAVER L AKE
J ennifer Godwin and I lay side by side on the sand.
It was the day after Dad had bit Zan. David had called me up and asked if I wanted to go to Beaver Lake with him and Jennifer. Maybe his father had put him up to it. I didn’t know. I
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