by Phil Earle
‘Joseph, that was a one off, and he was scared. You’ve got to make him feel safe. Treat him like he were a friend.’
‘A friend? He’s an animal.’
‘And? He has a heart, doesn’t he? And eyes, and all those things you have.’
‘Yeah but—’
‘And he has feelings too. You should’ve seen him when they took Aphrodite. Tore him in half, it did.’
Joseph couldn’t picture it, but he saw the emotion on Mrs F’s face.
‘So what do I need to do then?’ he asked.
‘Look at him,’ she replied. ‘For the first time, actually look at him. Realise he’s a living, breathing creature that feels the same things you do, wants the same things we all do. He wants to feel safe, Joseph. And you can help him with that.’
Joseph pursed his lips and said nothing. It would be folly to do anything else.
‘Try it. Here, take this.’ She handed him half a carrot. ‘Now walk, slowly towards the bars.’
He did half of what he was told.
‘I said slowly,’ she half hissed, half whispered.
He tempered his pace but not enough, Adonis sending a bark of disapproval.
‘Look,’ she said. ‘Watch me again.’ She plucked a large leaf from the bucket and began her own slow, respectful approach.
Joseph watched reluctantly. It wasn’t just about the pace she moved at: it was the way she held herself: her shoulders rounded and thrown forward, meaning her head fell the same way too. There was little in the way of eye contact, either, Mrs F looking up through her eyebrows to ensure she wasn’t distressing the ape. As she neared the bars the noises started: first from Adonis, a softer, lower noise, not a purr – never a purr – but a more sympathetic rumble. Mrs F followed, mimicking him, both noises and movements, but at no point did she relax or take anything for granted, certainly not when she found herself a mere foot away from him.
Joseph took in the difference in their frames. Adonis could break her in a second, could probably find a way of dragging her through the bars if he pleased, but if Mrs F was worried by this, she didn’t show it. Instead, she slowly lifted her arm, until the cabbage leaf moved within Adonis’s range.
The ape’s head moved first, leaning forward to sniff. There was something snooty about it to Joseph’s mind, like a dandy taking in the aroma of a pocket flower, but the image didn’t last long, Adonis whipping the cabbage from her grip and falling back on his haunches.
Satisfied, Mrs F moved away from the bars, her movements as slow as before, never turning her back on the beast, not even for a second.
‘There,’ she said. ‘Now your turn.’
‘You’re all right.’
‘No, come on,’ she cajoled. ‘You can do it. But only if you try.’
So he jammed his hand into the bucket and took a bit of carrot.
‘Right,’ she said. ‘Now, start to walk slowly. Head down, small steps, nothing sudden.’
He did as instructed.
‘That’s it,’ she said. ‘That’s the way.’ Joseph hoped she was telling the truth.
‘Now, keep your arm at your side until you get closer. That’s it, that’s it...’
He was ten feet from the bars now, and Adonis didn’t seem to have moved. Was it working? He daren’t look up to find out, though he did hear a shuffling and a short, sharp grunt.
‘Hear that?’ Mrs F whispered excitedly. ‘He’s seen the carrot now. He’s telling you he wants it. Whatever noise you hear, make the same noise back. Make him think you’re just like him, that you’re no threat.’
Joseph turned his ear to the cage, tuning in.
Another grunt followed, then a second and a third. Could he do it? Would he allow himself to grunt without fear of laughter from behind him?
‘Come on, Joseph,’ she whispered. ‘You can do it.’
So he did. Hesitantly at first, barely audible, before allowing his chest to rumble and mimic the same tone.
‘That’s it! That’s it!’ came the whisper behind him, and Joseph gave the most furtive of glances at Adonis, head cocked, wide fat finger scratching at his chest. Instinctively, he remembered the other order. It wasn’t just noises he had to impersonate, but movements too. So bravely, patiently, he stopped and sat back on his haunches, pawing at his chest in the same way, wondering how long he should do it before moving again.
Mrs F, of course, filled in the gaps. ‘Don’t wait too long now. You’ve got it. He trusts you, but he wants that food.’ Joseph made to stand, only to be told to slow down.
He started again, slower tentative steps, occasionally scratching and grunting in case it helped. His heart thumped wildly in his chest, only increasing as he edged closer, until he could reach the bars.
Again, he fell into a squat, and fighting the urge to look Adonis in the eye, he slowly raised his arm until it, and the carrot, sat at a perfect right angle from his body.
He waited, blood pumping in his ears. Would it work or was Adonis playing with him?
But just as he felt his arm begin to cramp, he caught a movement from the other side of the bars, and saw, from the corner of his eye, Adonis’s arm mirroring his own, snaking upwards and out through the bars. It was working. It was working.
Through squinted eyes, Joseph marvelled at the size of the ape’s hand, one finger the width of three of his own. He was scared, of course he was. No matter what Mrs F said, the ape was unpredictable, but fear wasn’t the overriding emotion and he allowed excitement to fizz through him.
‘Hold steady, hold steady!’ whispered Mrs F, her own giddiness tangible in her voice.
It was happening, it really was, their fingers mere inches away from each other. Joseph relaxed his grip on the carrot in anticipation. But as he felt it being levered away from him, there came a commotion from behind, a clattering of something against corrugated iron, which broke the moment and drew reactions from all three of them.
Mrs F spun on her heels, eyes searching for the source. Joseph felt his balance tip forwards, towards the bars, but it was Adonis’s reaction that was the most pronounced.
Whether it was anger at having his meal interrupted, or fear of another air raid, it sent him spiralling, throwing himself against the cage, head back as he blasted out warning after warning.
Joseph was terrified and scuttled spider-like away from the bars, gravel biting at his palms.
‘What was that?’ he yelled, but Mrs F had something else on her mind.
‘You must never EVER turn your back on Adonis as you walk away. His arms are long, longer than you realise. He could’ve grabbed you at any moment, especially with such a racket going on. Then what would you have done?!’
Gone was her warmth, and Joseph felt it cut him. Why was she so cross with him? He hadn’t caused the racket or asked for it. All he’d done was react instinctively to make himself safe. It felt unfair, especially when he’d come so close to something so great.
‘Well, I wouldn’t have expected you to help, that’s for sure,’ he spat.
‘What do you mean by that?’ she said in reply, before another clang distracted her. ‘Look, we’ll talk about this later. I need to see what’s going on over there. Don’t be trying to approach the bars again unless I’m around, do you hear me?’
He said nothing, just stared at her. And as she moved away, he couldn’t help but wonder how a moment so close to perfect had crumbled so quickly.
24
It didn’t take long for Joseph to disobey Mrs F. A few minutes at most. The reality was, Adonis had still not eaten properly, and to Joseph’s mind if the situation remained the same, he would be blamed for it.
Besides, he said to himself, he knew what he was doing now, didn’t he? And it wasn’t like he was stepping inside the cage. He’d watched Mrs F feed the ape through the bars loads of times, and he’d practically done it
himself, barring the interruption. Adonis would’ve taken food from his hand: and if it had happened once, then it could happen again.
So he pushed himself from his seat and stooped over the bucket, deciding to carry several pieces of food in each hand. That way he wouldn’t have to retreat every time he needed more.
With full hands and a quickening heart, he started his approach: head down, shoulders slouched, steps fairylike. He didn’t bother to look for the ape’s response yet, it was too soon.
Ten paces on and it was a textbook situation. Adonis had sloped closer, and could see that dinner was nearly served, though Joseph didn’t rush or move impulsively. He wanted to show the ape that he had been wrong to charge at him before, that he was to be trusted, worthy.
Adonis became more excited, grunting and scratching and Joseph followed suit. There was nothing to fear here, everything was as it should be.
Or it was until Joseph’s arm extended outwards. He was careful to ensure that it didn’t snake through the bars into Adonis’s territory. He knew that any overconfidence would leave him vulnerable. He wanted Adonis to come to him, so he could pull away more easily if necessary. Yet as he spotted the ape’s arm move forward, he felt a sudden dramatic shove from behind, delivered with such force that it sent him sprawling against the bars, both arms pushing through them all the way up to the shoulders. His nose made impact with the metal and it dazed him, but not enough to stop him realising he was now incredibly vulnerable. But Adonis didn’t attack. He sprinted quickly into the depths of the shadows, invisible in a second, presumably as he tried to work out what and where the danger was coming from.
Joseph pushed himself away from the bars on all fours, before turning on his knees to find two figures looming grimly over him.
Bert Conaghan and Jimmy Rodwell.
At first Joseph was confused. He associated them so firmly with school that their presence here seemed incongruous.
‘Hello, dunce,’ Bert said, gruffly.
‘Aren’t you on the wrong side of these bars?’ added Jimmy.
A second later Bert had Joseph in a headlock: one that he couldn’t fight his way out of.
‘Think his head would fit through the gap?’ laughed Jimmy.
‘Only one way to find out.’ And the bully started to run towards the bars, with Joseph tripping along beside him.
As they reached the bars, Bert let go, hurling Joseph flush into them, a shooting pain whipping through his shoulder and upper back. But it was only the start, as Bert followed up with a slap to the face and a kick to the ribs. Jimmy took this as his cue to join in, using his fists as readily as his partner employed his feet.
Joseph curled up into the tightest of balls. But no matter how hard he tried there were too many parts of his body left exposed, and the boys went to town on them. The blows weren’t always the hardest, but they came with such frequency that it felt to Joseph like he was being prodded with a hot poker.
Bert and Jimmy, however, weren’t done.
‘What’s happened to the thing in this cage?’ asked Bert, pausing.
‘Dunno. In its hut? Who cares? Can’t have been anything interesting anyway. I mean, looks like the whole place is empty, apart from this animal right here.’ Jimmy nudged Joseph with the toe of his boot like he was a cockroach.
‘Maybe we should give the place a new resident then.’ Bert marched to the gate of Adonis’s enclosure and began wrestling with the padlock.
Jimmy thought this was the funniest thing he had ever seen, and bent double, laughing. ‘People will queue round the block. We’ll make a fortune!’
On the insults went, until Bert realised he would get no joy from the padlock and decided to take his frustration out on Joseph again instead.
‘Get him on his feet,’ he barked at Jimmy, who duly obliged.
‘That’s it. Keep his chin up, too. Let me get clear sight of him.’
Bert prowled forwards and shook out his fist. Joseph could already feel the sting of the blow he was about to deliver.
‘Now you listen to me, Palmer,’ he hissed, his back only inches from Adonis’s bars. ‘We don’t like you, as you might’ve already guessed. So every time you get in our faces, in fact, every time we even see your face, know that this is what’s waiting for you.’
He pulled back his arm, fist clenched, packed tight with every bit of hate he could summon. Joseph’s eyes were already swelling, but he didn’t need to be able to see to know what was coming next.
However, the punch never came. Instead there was a thundering from behind Bert that was swifter and more powerful than anything the Nazis could throw.
Before his fist could even draw level with his own nose, Bert had been pulled backwards and slammed against the bars, at the mercy of the beast called Adonis.
25
Joseph was in pain. In pain and shocked, but it was nothing compared to what must have been going on in the mind of Bert Conaghan.
Seconds ago, Bert had been on the cusp of delivering the most delicious revenge, but now it looked to Joseph like his world had collapsed. The bully found himself clamped from behind against the cold steel bars, where no amount of panicked movement could wrestle him free.
What made it worse was that Bert had no idea what was holding him prisoner. Joseph could see Adonis’s fist – the size of the boy’s head – between Bert’s shoulder blades, pulling his coat so tight that it looked like a straitjacket across Bert’s chest.
Words fell out of Bert’s mouth, so panicked they were a mere stream of babble that mirrored what was going on in the mind of his fellow bully.
‘Wh-what is... THAT?’ Jimmy pointed, before making the sign of the cross, a gesture that only served to send Bert into a full blown panic.
‘What is it?!’ he screamed. ‘Get it off me. Get it off ME!’
But Adonis was having none of it: instead he squeezed harder and pulled the boy again and again against the bars, trying to find a way of dragging him through. But when the boy’s bones refused to give, he roared his disapproval, mouth pushed tight against his prisoner’s ear, foul breath making the boy’s hair ripple and dance.
It proved too much for Bert, who lost control of his bladder, its contents flowing down his legs and over his shoes. Jimmy had seen enough too, tearing for the gate instead of towards his friend.
‘Come back!’ Bert yelled, leaving Joseph to realise it was up to him now. He was all Bert had.
But what could he do? Adonis continued to pull the boy against the bars like a toy. Joseph shouted for Mrs F, but his calls were no match for Bert’s terrified yells and were easily drowned out.
What could he do? It wasn’t like he was armed. The rifle was in the office, locked in the cupboard, and he didn’t have anything like the power to make the ape think twice. But he couldn’t just stand there and watch, regardless of what Bert had done to him.
So he ran to the bars, not realising until he reached them how he was going to help.
Bert was wearing a thick winter coat, made of the coarsest wool and buttoned from waist to neck. It was a wonder Adonis hadn’t ripped it clean from the boy’s back, but there was no sign of the seams popping or ripping. Joseph knew he had to free Bert from the coat. Do that, and he would be able to wriggle clear.
So, making himself as small as he could, and using Bert as a shield (he had no desire to be a plaything for Adonis’s other hand), he set about the buttons.
‘Please help,’ cried Bert. Or that’s what Joseph thought he heard.
‘Shut up and keep still,’ he whispered.
The first button gave easily, pinging open at a push, but the further Joseph moved up, the tighter the coat and more obstinate the buttons became. By the time he reached the fourth (adapting to Bert’s jerky movements as Adonis waved the boy around), he was having to use both hands to prise it through the hole.
‘He
’s going to kill me...’ cried Bert, and while Joseph didn’t have time to stop and think about it, he wasn’t convinced it was true. The kid was scared, of course, who wouldn’t be, and Adonis was a beast, a mountain of an ape who could’ve ripped the boy’s head off twenty times already if he’d chosen to. But the truth was, Bert was still alive.
All Joseph could do was hope that Adonis didn’t suffer a change of heart.
‘Almost... there,’ said Joseph, and with one, final push of his now-sore fingers, the coat fell open.
The result was instantaneous. Bert fell forward to his knees and crawled mercifully away, while Adonis yanked the coat clean through the bars and set about ripping it into shreds, roaring wildly as he did so.
Joseph turned his attention to Bert, face wet with tears, his legs wetter still. He saw the embarrassment on Bert’s face, but the second he touched his shoulder, the bully returned, anger flashing in Bert’s eyes as he sprang to his feet.
‘Don’t touch me!’ he wailed, face red and snotty. ‘You’re as bad as that bloody monster in there, so don’t be thinking you’ve done me no favours.’ He grabbed Joseph and pulled him close. ‘And don’t be telling anyone about this. Nobody would believe you anyway.’
With a final push, he sent Joseph back to the ground. Joseph thought about retaliation, but resisted. Nothing he could do would be a patch on what Adonis had just dished out, so he wanted to leave Bert with the thought of that, fresh in his mind.
Instead, Joseph lay on the ground, catching his breath, feeling his injuries for the first time as the adrenaline dropped, and watching as Adonis tossed the remnants of Bert’s coat skywards. It was the most joyful he had ever seen the ape, a far cry from the aggression that had almost cost Bert so much.
Joseph felt confused. He’d witnessed something close to a tragedy, yet at the same time, Adonis had saved him.
But had the ape meant to help?
And what did it mean? Were Adonis’s actions just a coincidence, driven by fear? It didn’t feel like that to Joseph, but at the same time, the idea of a silverback gorilla coming to his aid felt far-fetched. Did animals even have a sense of right and wrong? They were hardly questions he felt qualified to answer, and they felt too ridiculous to ask Mrs F.
