Honest Ape

Cut in closer to the home. Look inside, and you will see a thin, gray man slumped over a table, his eyes open and foggy. He is unmoving. The hair on the back of his head is matted with blood.

To his left, you will see a small photograph strewn amongst others. The photograph paints a picture of a unique scene. In the center stands the thin, gray man gently cradling a baby orangutan.

To his right, a shattered bottle of vodka sits, drained and bloodstained, on top of a diary. The diary contains only one entry.

January 9

With only three days left until the conference, Charlie is performing extraordinarily poorly. And I don’t understand why.

Let me backtrack, just to see if I missed something.

Teaching apes sign language has been done before. Although impressed with their abilities to create simple sentences, scientists were quick to deem orangutans incapable of our intellect. I was simply not convinced by these so-called researchers.

I knew orangutans were capable of our intellect, but it relied on the fact that they were taught from birth. So, through careful deliberation and unbelievable effort, I was approved to research a newborn orangutan. I met Charlie 45 minutes after his birth.

He seemed to pick up on the alphabet quickly. Once he understood basic commands and could ask for food with his hands, I knew he was ready and prepared for a deeper level of understanding. I explained, in simple terms, that I would be teaching him language, and he quickly understood. I could tell – my hunches tend to be right.

After some time, though, Charlie seemed to hit a slump, and he didn’t sign at me. Even after the belt, he refused to speak. I said something I regretted, at the time, to Charlie. I said, “You’ll never be smart. You’ll never be me.” I’m not sure where it came from, but it certainly wasn’t out of spite or anger towards him. He was usually good. But I had a lot going on, and I was frustrated with his incompetence.

It was at that moment that I first thought I could be wrong. This was a beast, after all – surely someone more intelligent than I would have communicated with them if it was possible before my attempt.

I shrugged it off at the time, determined to make a name for myself. But he must have found some sense of empowerment in frustrating me, because he even began fighting and pushing. Some days are fine, but some days he completely loses it. It’s severely disappointing.

I’ve given it more thought, and I don’t know what to do anymore. Maybe I’m wrong. He just doesn’t understand how much I do for him, and he’ll never understand quite how much I’ve sacrificed for him.

I’m not certain he ever will.

Turn around, and you’ll see the door thrown upon. There is a large man walking toward the distant horizon.