Saving Abbie

by Allan Baillie

  Ki wrinkled his nose at Abbie. ‘All the orphans have to learn. They have lost a great deal of learning time. With a mother they learn everything, how to look after themselves, how to move around the treetops, the four hundred things they can eat in the jungle, where they are at what time of the year. But their mothers were killed and they had been taken from their jungle.’ Ki’s eyes shifted, as if seeing something in his memory.

  ‘So the orphans begin to learn around here.’ Harry swept his hands across the trees. ‘That’s why I’m here.’

  Ki smiled. ‘They learn from each other, from other orangs like Dafida and bit by bit they go out into the jungle. They know there is food always here, in the morning and evening. The rest of the time they learn in the trees.’

  ‘Meals on call?’ Dad said. ‘Seems to be too easy. How do you get them to stay away? I know if I was an orangutan that would be it. I’d sit in a tree near the food and wait.’

  ‘It’s a problem,’ Ki admitted. ‘When the orphans have learned enough we move them to the deep jungle. Up the river to Pondok Tanggui, a more primitive camp two kilometres into the forest.’

  Ian looked at Abbie and remembered the panic-stricken animal on the sinking ship. ‘How do you know when they have learned enough?’

  ‘That bloody nest,’ Harry growled.

  ‘A nest?’

  Ki pointed to the top of a nearby tree, to a large pile of broken branches and twigs. ‘That’s a week ago. Most days they make two nests – a night nest and a day nest.’

  ‘It’s big.’

  ‘Orangs are big.’

  ‘Why do they have to have nests?’ said Ian. ‘They don’t have eggs.’

  ‘For safety, right Ki?’ Harry said pointedly.

  Ki ignored Harry. ‘Once there were tigers here, but now all they have to worry about is wild pigs and bloody men. It’s very important the orphans learn how to survive in the jungle. If they get the nests right, that’s a start. We can then move them into the deep jungle and there they eventually go wild.’

  ‘But Gistok doesn’t make a nest, does she?’ Harry said.

  Ki sighed. ‘She just won’t. You know that.’

  ‘But you’re putting her in the deep jungle. She’ll be in danger there.’

  ‘If she stays here we’re in danger! No, she goes and that’s it. She has to learn to battle through, like all the others, all right?’

  ‘Yes sir!’ Harry spun away, stumbled and thumped down a path into the jungle.

  Ki spread his hands in regret, then he saw Ian’s face. ‘Gistok is a lout. She used to be a general’s spoiled pet and she hasn’t changed. She is eight years old but she just won’t behave like a respectable orang. She has to be pushed a little and Harry will have to see that.’

  Mum put her hand on Ian’s shoulder. ‘I’m sure Abbie will be a different kettle of fish. Now we’d better move ourselves in, hadn’t we?’

  The guesthouse was fifty metres from the river and ten metres from dense jungle, shaded by spreading trees. Ki stepped onto the small veranda, opened the front door and hesitated. ‘I should show you everything, but …’ He was looking at the jungle path.

  ‘But you want to see that Harry is all right?’ Mum smiled.

  ‘Well …’

  ‘We’re fine. We’ll find everything. Off you go.’

  ‘Thank you, thank you. Your two bedrooms are on the right. There is a kitchen, a mahdi and the toilet is outside.’ Then he turned and hurried down the jungle path.

  ‘Well, let’s see what we can find in this palace,’ said Mum.

  They found a small lounge inside the door with the floor covered by a worn flower vinyl, a couple of chairs, a table and a packet of battered playing cards. They found two fairly identical bedrooms, double beds with sheets, chairs, dressing-tables, cupboards, mosquito coils. The bedrooms were dim because the window shutters had been closed but there were no lights, no electricity. Mum sighed and opened her shutters – there was no glass in the windows either.

  Ian found massive urns of water in the mahdi. He could climb into one of them and have a cold shower! He knew that he couldn’t do that really, but he was feeling so hot and sticky … He stripped off his shirt, grabbed the nearby yellow plastic scoop, filled it from the urn, leaned into the tiled mahdi and threw the water over his face and shoulders. The water was so cold he shivered.

  He was about to do it again when Mum screamed.

  She had found the kitchen.

  A kerosene stove was squeezed against the wall, with lamps, large pots, a kettle and a few utensils. It was a dark corner with the window heavily boarded.

  Ian charged in from the mahdi and stared at four hairy black fingers pushing between the boards. He felt ice washing across his face.

  ‘It’s all right, only an orang,’ Dad said, placing his hand over her shoulder.

  ‘I know it is, it was the sudden shock.’ Mum sounded angry with herself.

  Dad shifted his eyes to Ian. ‘What’s wrong with you?’

  Ian shook the ice away. ‘Sorry, sorry. I saw fingers like that in the sinking ship. In the dark …’

  ‘Oh. Go on, get out of it!’ Dad slapped his hand against a board and the fingers disappeared.

  ‘I don’t think it’s Abbie,’ Ian said weakly.

  ‘Probably Gistok, trying to steal my market supplies,’ Mum muttered.

  ‘Um, I better see where Abbie is,’ Ian said quickly.

  ‘Yes, yes, go,’ Mum said. Then she noticed his hair and clothes. ‘Hey … you’re dripping …’

  But he was already gone, back to the small veranda.

  Abbie was still sitting on the grass with a bunch of bananas when he found her. The learning starts already, Ian thought with a touch of disappointment. But she didn’t notice Ian. She was too busy looking at another orang lolloping from the side of the guesthouse. Not Gistok. This orang was younger, and a male. The male stopped and tilted his head as he considered Abbie – and her bunch of bananas.

  Ian heard the shutters slam shut from Mum’s bedroom.

  Both Abbie and the male looked up, then the male slouched towards Abbie, his shoulders heaving. Oh great, Ian thought. Now Abbie’s going to be mugged by this hairy thug. What do you do, yell and drive him off? No. After a few days you aren’t going to be here for her at all. You just have to let it happen.

  Abbie wrinkled her nose as the male leaned over her, and she pushed her lips together in silence. The male scratched his head and made a soft sound between his lips. She pouted, pushing the bananas behind her. Then he sighed, and sat down in front of her to pull a shoot of grass and nibble at it.

  She studied him for a while, sniffing his shoulder with a frown. He tickled her foot with his toes and craned his neck, as if to see the bananas. So Abbie pulled her foot back and put the bananas on her leg.

  Then he looked away, but his hand touched her knee.

  Abbie pulled a banana from the bunch and offered it to him. He considered the banana for a moment, then finally took it from her. He thrust it – skin and all – horizontally into his mouth to give himself a yellow grin. Abbie copied him and grinned a yellow grin back at him.

  Ian beamed like a clown and ran inside the guesthouse. ‘Hey, guess what?’ Then he stopped.

  Dad was leaning on the wall in a bedroom with his back to the open door and Mum was crouched before him as if he had been hurt.

  ‘That night is everywhere, even here,’ Dad whispered weakly as he shook his head. ‘And seeing that biscuit tin of a ship … Can you imagine being in that in the middle of that God-awful storm? I just didn’t realise how bad it was until that moment. Jesus, we should have lost him!’

  ‘Hey, hey, it’s over. He is back, so we have another chance.’

  ‘I wouldn’t listen, would I? No storm is coming, leave the kids on the beach while we pick up the relatives … How stupid can you get!’

  ‘Stop it, David. This is a two-people business. I am responsible too. I could have stopped us …’ Mum looked up. �
�Hello, Ian! You wanted something?’

  ‘Oh, um, Abbie’s found a boyfriend.’ Ian dropped the flat words into the silence.

  ‘That’s good. Isn’t that good, David?’

  Dad nodded but he wouldn’t look at Ian’s face.

  Harry the tourist came out of the jungle with Ki as Ian was carrying a steaming plate of fish to a table under a broad-leaved tree. ‘I see Abbie’s picked up Komo already.’ Harry thumbed at the pair of orangs. They had finished with the bananas but they were still watching each other in fascination.

  ‘Yeah, isn’t it great? Friends, just like that.’

  ‘Komo is a nice guy.’

  Mum came down the steps with a plate of vegetables. ‘Hi, Harry. Come and have lunch with us.’

  ‘Oh, I can’t really …’

  ‘Yes you can. I cooked more especially for you.’

  ‘Well … thank you.’

  Harry washed and pulled up a chair. He nodded at the closed shutters. ‘You don’t need that. The orangs are as gentle as cows – most times. And they only want food.’

  ‘I’d trust Abbie with a baby,’ said Mum. ‘But I don’t know about the others.’

  ‘An orang tried to break into the kitchen,’ said Dad.

  Harry sighed. ‘Gistok. That’s why there are boards over the window in the kitchen. She even tried to get in through the roof.’

  Ian shook his head, gulping his fish and chilli. ‘Wasn’t Gistok. It was Komo.’

  ‘Was it?’ He looked at the landing, where Ki was watching the river. ‘Well, it doesn’t help. Means that Gistok is teaching her mischief to some of the younger orangs. Okay, Ki’s right. Gistok has to go up the river.’

  ‘You sound like an expert, Harry,’ said Dad. ‘A zoologist?’

  Harry laughed. ‘Oh, if Ki gets me in a good mood I will be doing some work for him, but only on his electric generator. That generator is as old as the Stone Age. I’m a retired mechanic from Idaho. I’m just a tourist.’

  ‘But you sound as if you have been here for years.’

  ‘Sometimes I feel I have been here for years. I’ve been coming back here for six years now.’

  ‘Six years? Why?’

  ‘Buddies.’

  ‘Buddies?’ Dad was puzzled.

  Harry looked at Dad, measuring his face, then he turned away. ‘Watch, watch.’

  A large orang was moving towards the wooden rubbish bin near Ki’s house, but Ki ran from the landing, slapping his hands together. Komo scuttled away from Abbie but this orang hardly noticed Ki. It changed its course slightly to slouch towards the table, looking thoughtfully at Dad.

  ‘That’s Dafida, twenty years old, and her kid.’

  Ian saw a very small baby orang clinging to her side, with enormous eyes and fine hair sprouting straight up from his head. ‘Looks like Einstein,’ Ian said.

  ‘Now be careful with Dafida, she’s …’

  Dafida quickly flicked sideways, still looking at Dad, and snatched a bottle of chilli sauce from the table.

  ‘Hey!’

  ‘Yeah, I was going to say Dafida is a little cunning,’ Harry said.

  Dafida had leapt into a low tree. She unscrewed the cap and flicked it to the ground.

  ‘Some of them could give the New York street kids a run for their money,’ Harry said affectionately.

  ‘What’s she going to do?’ Mum was alarmed.

  Dafida pushed out her big bottom lip and upended the chilli bottle above her mouth.

  ‘She’s going to kill herself!’

  Big-eyed Einstein stared at the thick red fluid as it slithered into his mother’s dark throat. Abbie blinked slowly. But Dafida continued to empty the chilli bottle. Then she lowered it and looked at it sadly. She licked the neck, tossed it from the tree and burped in satisfaction.

  ‘I know guys like that,’ Harry said.

  In the ticking heat of the afternoon the world seemed to be asleep. Mum and Dad had gone back to their bedroom – with the shutters wide to catch any moving air. The washing men were sprawled in the shade of the trees, and Ki sprawled in a Mexican hammock given by Harry. The orangs had disappeared to their high nests. Now the river was silent from speedboats and klotoks; even the sky was unscarred by the odd passing plane. The world was snoring.

  Apart from Abbie, Ian and Harry.

  Harry was taking apart Ki’s generator and Abbie and Ian were watching.

  ‘Gimme the long Phillips screwdriver,’ Harry commanded and reached back to Ian without moving his eyes from a coil of copper.

  Ian found the x-pointed screwdriver in a battered toolbox and passed it over with a slight touch of smugness. Until Abbie shoved her hand into the toolbox, that is. ‘Get off, no touch!’ He spanked her lightly on the wrist.

  Abbie pouted and rolled her lip.

  ‘Give over!’ Ian thrust his hand at her.

  Abbie glared, but passed the tool over. Not a Phillips, but another long screwdriver.

  ‘You right?’ Harry looked back.

  ‘She’s pretty bright.’ Ian showed Harry the screwdriver Abbie had picked up – and for a terrible moment he thought Harry wanted that one instead of his.

  But Harry simply nodded. ‘They all are. The guys at the zoo have a line: if you give a screwdriver to a gorilla in a zoo, the gorilla scratches its back with it and passes it to a chimpanzee, who will throw it away. Give it to an orang and it will not do anything at all – until it is left alone. Then it will unscrew the door and leave.’

  Abbie leaned back and sneered.

  ‘I believe it. Abbie took a photo of a tourist in Kumai.’

  Harry wasn’t at all surprised. ‘You can almost believe anything with orangs. There are guys talking to orang in sign language in America and Borneo.’

  Ian smiled at Abbie. ‘We’ve been talking for months.’

  Harry nodded. ‘I know how it is.’

  ‘Buddies, you said before.’

  Harry looked at Ian warily. ‘That’s one thing I don’t talk about with your father. Saw his face, he’ll put me down in a funny farm.’

  Ian grinned. ‘I am always in the funny farm since we got Abbie.’

  ‘I came here just to have a look and that was it. It was my best time – ever. The orangs are better company than my ratchy friends, and maybe they are smarter. For sure they got life worked out. So each year I come here for a month, sometimes longer. See how the old guys are getting on and get to know the new ones. It’s a pretty good way of passing the years. Eh?’

  Later in the afternoon Ki walked past the guesthouse. He was shouting in Indonesian and his shoulder was weighed down by bananas. Two men followed him with a yellow plastic basin full of milk.

  ‘Dinner time! Now you get to see the whole horrible mob,’ Harry said, getting up.

  Ian offered Abbie his hand and they walked slowly after the others.

  Fifty metres from the settlement Ki stopped at a sandy path leading to a second landing. He placed the bananas in the centre of the path and shouted for the orangutans, and his two assistants placed the basin of milk near by.

  From the trees above, Komo peered down from a high nest, and Gistok pushed out from a tangle of scrub. The jungle behind her shook, and Dafida too appeared. Another smaller orang edged out from a bush very close to the bananas, as if it had been waiting for them for a long time.

  ‘Sadi.’ Harry nodded at the orang on the path. ‘Tragic, that.’

  Sadi looked furtively around her for a moment, then shuffled across the sand, holding her long arms folded about her body like a cold and very old woman. It was then that the male Komo skidded down the tree, tilted his head and looked at Abbie. Finally he rolled over to her, tugged her hand from Ian’s and pulled her hurriedly towards the bananas and the basin of milk. Sadi was drinking from the basin by then, but she was still pressing her hands on her back and she kept looking up, watching Komo and Abbie together. When Komo shuffled to the other side of the basin she backed away.

  Between the milk and the bananas
Dafida thudded, still holding a branch and bending it down with her weight. When Komo moved a little to give her room, Abbie jumped away in momentary fear.

  Bad-temperedly, Dafida snatched the bananas from Gistok before she turned to the milk basin and Sadi. Sadi had surrendered the bowl but she was still close to it. She stared up at Dafida as if she was a wild pig. When Dafida hissed at her, she ducked her head. When Dafida lurched towards her, she scuttled away, past other orphan orangs and the bananas, up the sandy path, past Ian and under a storeroom.

  ‘Dafida!’ Ki stamped his foot on the path. The surly orang took a reluctant step back, still hanging onto the branch.

  Quickly Ki walked up and snatched a few bananas, and sat on the step of the storeroom. ‘Sadi …’ he called gently and showed a banana. Ian, squatting on the sand, could see the gleaming of Sadi’s eyes in the dark.

  ‘Dafida shouldn’t have done that,’ Ki said. ‘She is always hostile to poor Sadi.’

  ‘Maybe it’s something to do with how Sadi smells,’ Harry said.

  Sadi moved out of the darkness and took the offered banana.

  ‘Does she smell different?’ asked Ian.

  Ki nodded. ‘I think so. Something to do with fear. She’s always frightened. Aren’t you, Sadi?’ Sadi allowed herself to be coaxed into the sunlight but she was trembling in the hot afternoon.

  ‘What happened to her? Why is she so frightened?’

  Ki shrugged. ‘We don’t know. We get orphan orangs from all over but mainly from Indonesia. They all have a sad story. They have lost their mother, been grabbed by a poacher, sold as a pet, used as a restaurant attraction, as a pretend child. They’ve been snatched even for zoos. You name it, the orphans have done it. But it’s getting better now. It’s illegal for a private person to keep an orang, and now we’re getting the orphans which have been surrendered or seized.’

  Sadi was finally nibbling a banana but she kept on watching Dafida, even hugging herself while she ate.

  ‘But we almost never find out what happened to the orphans before we see them.’

  ‘I’d like to catch the guy who kept her,’ Harry said.