Half Brother

by Kenneth Oppel

  Dad shook his head. “Why on earth would a university be upset about legitimate scientific research?”

  “You know the kinds of things they do at the Thurston Foundation,” Mom said, slapping some burned toast on his plate.

  “Sure,” said Dad. “I also know they’ve produced a lot of very useful biomedical data. And drugs that’ve helped thousands of people. We use animals to advance human science. It’s completely acceptable. It’s only a very small group of people who protest it. Ben, if you had a terrible disease, and I could use Zan to find a cure, but it would kill him, there’d be no hesitation. I’d sacrifice Zan’s life in a second, to save yours.”

  I didn’t know what to say. It meant Dad cared about me, but it wasn’t really the answer I wanted.

  “I don’t want Zan to be sacrificed at all,” I said quietly.

  Dad pushed his burned toast away and looked at Mom hard. “This isn’t easy, and you’ve made it harder, bringing him back. But if Zan isn’t returned, you’re going to destroy your career, Sarah—and seriously harm mine.”

  Mom said, “Maybe you should worry less about your career and more about your family—because that’s going to be in serious trouble too if you don’t do the right thing.”

  I’d never seen Mom look so seriously, and so coldly, at Dad. It was riveting, and terrifying too, because it was the kind of look one chimp gave another. It meant: Only one of us is going to win this, and it’s going to be me.

  “The right thing?” said Dad, with a frustrated laugh. “And what exactly would that be, Sarah?”

  “He’s an animal, you’re right,” said Mom. “And we use them all the time. We eat them. We inject them. We kill them. Zan’s not human. But we taught him he was. We raised him like a child. Our child. And we have responsibilities to him now, Richard. We do. We can’t just abandon him to the Thurston Foundation.” Her voice was hoarse. “It is wrong.”

  There was a knock at the door, and my heart lurched. I thought: Police. The County sheriff with the big gut and gun on his belt, spitting tobacco juice on my shoe.

  “It’s all right,” said Mom. “It’ll be Peter.”

  “Peter?” I said in astonishment, and at the sound of his name, Zan started hooting.

  “Jack Helson flew him out to bring Zan back,” Dad said.

  I ran to the door and threw it open for Peter. The taxi was just pulling away.

  “Hey, man,” he said, looking exhausted.

  “Come in, come in,” said Mom.

  I grabbed his suitcase and dragged it into the front hall. Peter looked at me. “You know why I’m here, right?” I nodded. “But you’re not really going to take him back, are you?”

  “Hell, no,” said Peter. “But Helson doesn’t know that, and it got me a free ticket home. Is that bacon I smell?”

  We got him seated at the breakfast table and I helped get him a big plate of bacon and eggs and made sure his toast wasn’t burned.

  Dad let Peter eat for a few minutes and then said, “If you don’t take Zan back, you’re ending your academic career at Siegal, maybe everywhere else too.”

  Peter shrugged. “I want what’s best for Zan.”

  I smiled. Mom and I had another ally.

  After breakfast we all went outside into the backyard so Zan could play while we talked.

  “There’s no escaping the facts,” Dad said. “Zan is Helson’s legal property, and if we don’t return him, we’ll be guilty of theft.” He looked at Mom. “And mail fraud, if he finds out. You can go to jail for that too.”

  “Helson wants money, right?” I said to Peter.

  “Definitely, yeah.”

  “So the university here won’t buy him back?” I asked Dad. “Not a chance.”

  I swallowed. “Well, if they won’t buy him back, I will.”

  Dad sighed. “Okay, let’s just say that’s possible. Let’s say you can come up with ten thousand bucks and buy Zan back. We own a chimp. Then what?”

  We’d already talked about this. We’d need a new, stronger building to contain Zan. We’d need to feed him, and hire people to work with him. We’d need more land to give him proper room to play. Buying Zan was one thing. Taking care of him, paying for him the rest of his life—that was something else.

  “It would mean a total change in our lives,” Dad said. “And I’m not willing to make that change. It’s not what I want, and I doubt it’s what your mother wants either.”

  I looked at Mom. “Mom?” I said.

  She shook her head slowly.

  “But we stole him together! We wanted him home!”

  “I’m sorry, Ben. I don’t want him to go to a biomedical lab, but he can’t stay here forever.”

  “I’m kind of with your parents on this one, man,” Peter said, surprising me. “You want Zan. I know. But there’s something you couldn’t give him up here. Other chimps.”

  “Like they were so great,” I said sarcastically.

  “He does need them, though,” said Peter. “He needs companionship. He needs to be among his own kind. He was starting to integrate. I think Helson just expected too much too fast. But it would’ve happened.”

  I turned to look at Zan in our tree. I remembered how frightened he’d been, the first time I’d held him to the lowest branch, waiting for him to cling and go swinging. It had taken him a long time to want to climb a tree. Now he went as high as he could go.

  Wild chimps lived in trees. They lived in jungles. They lived in colonies. They hunted and shared and killed, just like us.

  It was hard for me to say, but I did: “We could send him back to Africa. Give him back what we took.”

  “Utter fantasy,” scoffed Dad.

  “Oh, Ben,” said Mom. “I don’t think that’s even an option. He’ll never be a wild chimp.”

  Peter nodded. “I don’t think he’d make it. It’d be like dumping you in the jungle, Ben—how long would you survive?”

  “So what’s left?” I said. “A zoo?”

  I didn’t much like that idea, but anything was better than seeing him disappear inside a lab forever. “No,” said Peter. “A sanctuary.”

  From his pocket he fished out a pamphlet. I recognized it from the William Eckler talk we’d gone to together.

  “There’s this place in Florida,” said Peter. He passed me the crumpled leaflet. There were buildings with cages, just like at Helson’s. But there were also islands and wooden bridges and high platforms and ropes to climb.

  “Looks like a zoo,” I said, with a shrug. “What’s the difference?”

  “No experiments, for starters. Not even sign language experiments. The chimps are fed, cared for, enriched, but basically left alone. It’s their home.”

  “Where do the chimps come from?” Mom asked.

  “All sorts of places,” Peter said. “From the entertainment industry when they aren’t young and cute any more. From people who bought them as little pets and then figured out they were too big and strong. From biomedical labs too, when they’ve used the chimps all up.”

  “I doubt they buy the chimps, though,” Dad said.

  “I don’t know,” said Peter.

  We’d brought Zan all this way, all this way home, and here we were talking about how to send him away again. It seemed so pointless and stupid and cruel.

  Even if I could buy Zan back, even if I won—I’d lose.

  I’d lose Zan.

  Later in the afternoon, when Zan was having some quiet time with Peter in his room, and Mom and Dad were out getting groceries, I took Peter’s pamphlet and dialled the number of the sanctuary in Florida.

  Someone picked up. There was a lot of background noise. It sounded like a kitchen. Pots clanging. I heard the hooting of chimps. I guess with the time difference, it was dinner in Florida.

  “Hello?” said a woman’s slightly harried voice. “Hi,” I said. “I was wondering if you wanted another chimp for your sanctuary.”

  “Who’s calling, please?”

  “My name’s B
en. I have a chimp—well, I used to have a chimp but he’s …” It felt so awful to talk about Zan like this. “He’s going to be sold to a biomedical lab for tests.”

  “Do you know which one?”

  “The Thurston Foundation.”

  “Uh-huh,” she said, in a way that told me she knew all about it, and what went on inside.

  “I don’t want him to go there,” I said. “Can you help him?” I heard her sigh. “How old are you, Ben?”

  “Fifteen.”

  “Where’s your chimp right now?”

  “At home, in Victoria, B.C. But he’s owned by Siegal University.” “Jack Helson?”

  “Yeah. He’s supposed to go back.”

  “Look, we don’t buy chimps, we don’t have the money. And we don’t rescue them either. We don’t go charging in and break them out, you understand?” she said bluntly.

  “Yes, ma’am, sure,” I said.

  I heard her sigh again, like she felt bad about something.

  “What we do,” she said, “is offer a home for chimps that people don’t want any more.”

  “But if I could get him, would you take him?”

  “If you got him legally, owned him, yes, we would talk about it. Absolutely, Ben.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Thanks.”

  “Good luck,” she said.

  “I’m going to buy Zan back and give him to that sanctuary,” I said.

  Peter had just come into the kitchen after putting Zan to bed, and we were all cleaning up after dinner.

  “Buy him with what money?” Dad asked. “Come on, Ben, be sensible. From that letter it sounds like Helson wants at least ten thousand dollars.”

  “I’ve got three hundred saved up,” I said.

  “I’ve got fourteen hundred,” said Peter. I turned to him. “You’d do that?”

  He tousled my hair. “It’s a good cause, sure. My needs are few.”

  “So that’s one thousand seven hundred,” I said. “We could do some kind of fundraiser for the rest.” I didn’t know much about raising money. “What if we called that reporter, the one who did the last story about Zan, and said we needed donations to buy him back? I bet—”

  “No,” said Dad, with such force that I gave a jerk.

  “Why not?” I demanded.

  “If this becomes public, it could be very embarrassing for the university here. Some bleeding hearts will think it was cruel and negligent. It’ll make Helson look like a monster, and the Thurston Foundation too. Then we’ve got people suing each other for defamation. Not to mention the fact that we’ve actually got a stolen chimp on our hands. No. The chimp goes back with Peter. I assume Jack Helson made arrangements for a private flight, Peter?”

  “He’s waiting for my call,” Peter said.

  “Oh, we’ll call Jack Helson,” said Mom firmly. “And we’ll make him an offer to buy Zan.”

  Dad turned to Peter. “I think we need some privacy to discuss this, Peter, if you don’t mind.”

  “Sure, yeah, of course,” said Peter, and he headed upstairs to the spare room.

  Dad must have seen the determination in my face, because he didn’t ask me to leave. No way was I missing this conversation.

  “You actually want us to buy Zan?” Dad said to Mom, dumbfounded. “With whose money, Sarah?” “We have some savings.” “Nowhere near enough,” Dad said. “We can borrow.”

  “Have you seen interest rates right now? We’re in a global recession, Sarah. It’s not prudent.” “To hell with prudent,” Mom replied. “I didn’t grow up rich like you.”

  “Well, you’re making up for it now,” said Mom. “A fancy private school and a new Mercedes in the driveway.”

  “I’ll pay it all back,” I pleaded with Dad. “Every summer job I have, I don’t care how long it takes. It’s just a loan. It’s really, really important to me.”

  Dad looked at me then. He really looked at me, and for a long time. Then he nodded. “Okay, Ben. Okay.”

  I did something I hadn’t done for ages. I hugged my father.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I truly didn’t want you to get hurt like this.”

  “It’s okay,” I replied.

  We patted each other on the back. I thought I felt his shoulders tremble, but probably it was just me. After a bit, Dad cleared his throat and turned to Mom.

  “It’s risky. If Helson figures out you read his mail and presses charges, you could go to jail.”

  “He can’t prove anything,” she said. “I’ll chance it.”

  “Well, then, let’s give good old Jack a call,” said Dad.

  Dad made the call from downstairs. Upstairs, Peter, Mom, and I pressed our ears to the other phone. Mom’s hand covered the mouthpiece so we wouldn’t be heard. “Jack, it’s Richard Tomlin.”

  “Good evening, Richard. Peter arrived this morning, I hope?” “He did.”

  “Tell him I’ll charter him a plane for Thursday. And, Richard, I’m going to ask you to take care of that cost. In the interests of maintaining good relations between us.”

  “I understand, Jack. But I have a business proposition I want to discuss with you as well.”

  There was a short pause. “What’s that?”

  “We’d like to purchase Zan.”

  “What makes you think I’m willing to sell him, Richard? He’s a valuable addition to my colony.”

  Liar! I had to turn my face away for a moment, I was breathing so hard.

  “I know it’s an inconvenience to you, Jack,” Dad said, “but it’s my son. Ben’s heartbroken, or Sarah never would’ve taken Zan like she did. It was wrong, Jack, no question, but I was hoping you might see your way to selling Zan back to us. I’m willing to reimburse you for what you paid the university—and compensate you for all your expenses, of course. Peter’s airfare and so forth.”

  Helson’s laughter rang over the line. “Richard, please. What I paid for Zan was a joke. Your department was eager to unload him for five thousand. Zan’s value is far greater than that—even if I were considering selling him.”

  “I can offer ten thousand,” Dad said.

  Dad knew the Thurston Foundation had offered $30,000 for three chimps. He also knew that Zan was the most valuable. So why was he offering only ten? And then I realized it was a bargaining ploy. I hoped it wouldn’t backfire on him.

  Helson said abruptly, “Not interested, Richard. Now, please, tell Peter he’s flying back Thursday with Zan. And tell him to come with his tail between his legs. No doubt he played a part in this fiasco.”

  “We’ll pay you fifteen thousand for Zan,” Dad said. “But that’s as high as we can go, Jack. It’s a very good offer.”

  I waited, breath snagged in my throat, for the yes. It had to be yes now.

  “Richard,” said Dr. Helson, “you and I both know that there are numerous institutions that are always eager to acquire chimpanzees. Zan’s unique in that he’s very young. That sweetens any deal if a buyer’s looking for more than one chimp.”

  He was talking about Igor and Caliban. He was saying that the lab was willing to take three because Zan was so valuable. Without Zan there might not be a deal at all.

  “Jack, it was our understanding you wouldn’t be selling Zan to a biomedical institution.”

  “Who said I was?” Jack replied calmly. “I was just giving an example.”

  I hated him. He knew we didn’t have any proof—none that we could admit to. I wondered if he knew we’d opened his mail. He must’ve suspected it, after we took off with Zan in the middle of the night. I felt sweat prickle under my arms.

  “What price are you looking for, Jack?” Dad asked, sounding impatient.

  “For Zan alone? Oh, I imagine it would be in the range of twenty thousand.”

  “That’s a great deal of money,” my father said. “Zan’s an extraordinary animal.”

  I could hear the aggression now in both their voices. It was like being back in the chimp house and seeing two males face off. In a colony there
was only one alpha male, but here there were two. I could almost smell their pheromones, transmitting themselves over the phone lines. I had no idea what would happen next, but I saw defeat for Dad. Twenty thousand was too much.

  “Tell Peter Thursday, then,” said Helson, “and—”

  “We’ll pay twenty thousand,” Dad said.

  I almost squeaked in surprise. I looked at Peter, amazed. Mom squeezed my arm.

  “I didn’t know you were so well-heeled, Richard,” said Helson. “Are you sure you have the means?”

  “Yes. But I’ll need a couple of weeks to access the funds. You draw up a legal transfer of ownership, and we can proceed from there.”

  “You have ten days, Richard, no more.”

  “That should be fine,” said Dad. “Thank you, Jack.” And he hung up.

  When we all ran downstairs, Dad was pouring himself a stiff drink. He looked pale.

  “I’m a complete ass,” he said. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “No,” I said. “You’re the alpha male and you didn’t submit!”

  He croaked a laugh. “Where are we going to get twenty thousand?” he said, looking at Mom.

  “We can ask my family for a loan,” she said.

  “No,” Dad said, with a firmness I didn’t understand, but I got the feeling there was a lot of pride tied up in it.

  “We only have a few thousand of our own savings,” Mom said, and after a pause added, “but there’s a very shiny new car in the driveway.”

  I watched Dad. The day he got that car he was probably the happiest I’d seen him in the past year. He wouldn’t part with it.

  He actually chuckled. “It’s covered in chimp hair now,” he said. “But we should get something for it. Once I pay back the car loan, though, we’re only looking at five thousand, maybe.”

  “You’d really sell the car?” I said.

  He shrugged. “Who needs a Mercedes? But we’re still at least ten thousand short.”

  “Fundraising might be the only way after all,” said Mom.

  Dad shook his head. “We can’t be part of that, Sarah.”

  “You don’t have to be,” Peter said suddenly. “We can give William Eckler’s organization a call and bring him on board.”

  “Would he help us?” I asked.