by Will Self
Together with Jean were the three new male members of the Dykes hierarchy. The alpha, Derek, was the garage-chimp from Tiddington. Simon, peering out from behind the curtains in the sub-adult males’ bedroom, recognised his heavily freckled muzzle, thick thighs and hefty rump. The other two weren’t known to him and he didn’t much like the look of them, especially the round-muzzled individual with the great ruff of white fur under his chin. As Simon watched, this male covered his ex right by the front gate, taking Jean with such rapid insouciance, that had Simon not known better he would have imagined the two chimps to be merely bumping into one another.
But it wasn’t the adults that concerned him, whether mating or not, it was his own beloved infants. Where were they? First one little head, then another, emerged from behind the hedge. Simon had been desperately worried that he wouldn’t be able to identify them – but he needn’t have. He would’ve been able to pick out Magnus in a pullulating group, so distinctive was the lick of blond fur that flipped over his brow. And as for Henry, the infant, he was as chubby-muzzled and cuddly in his simian incarnation as he had been in his human.
As Simon watched, his two infant males barged past the mating adults, barrelled though the gate and came tumbling up the path to the front door, where they were met by a gaggle of Busner infants. The two parties fused into a typically chimpanzee ruckus, all leaping about, screeching, chasing and tickling. How unlike the standoffishness of human infants, Simon thought to himself as he came down the stairs hand over hand and skidded to a halt by the coat rack in the hall.
Busner emerged, and knuckle-walked ponderously from the direction of his study, with a chimp Simon recognised as Colin Weeks, the rather ineffectual Busner distal-gamma male. “HoooGraa,” Busner vocalised. ‘Are you prepared, Simon “huu”?’
‘I’m as “hooo” ready as I’ll ever be, Zack. ’ The front-door bell chimed its ordinary dissonance and Colin Weeks opened it. The Dykes infants came rolling in; a bundle of light-brown body fur exactly the same shade as Simon’s halted in the middle of the floor. Disentangling themselves the two little males sprang up and came scampering towards their alpha crying, “HoooH’Graaa! HoooH’Graa! HoooH’Graaa!”
They leapt into Simon’s outstretched arms, Magnus grabbing him around the neck, Henry around his upper arm, both began inparting at once so that the signs felt mixed up, spliced together: ‘Alphy! Alphy! “Gru-nnn” where have you been “huuu”? Did you bring us a present “huu”? What have you got for us “huu”? Alphy! Alphy!’
‘ “Huh-huh-huh-gru-nnn” now calm down, you two, calm down …’ Simon bestowed kiss after kiss on their muzzles. He ran his fingers through their head fur, he kissed their outsize ears and smelt the furry essence of them, the commingled odour of him-and-them – the very smell of consanguinity.
In those few moments that the infants dangled off him, their fingers and toes tightly entwined in his fur, Simon Dykes, who had once had pretensions, dared to ape his own ideal, felt nothing but love for his offspring, regardless of their species. ‘ “Gru-nnn” it’s so good to touch you, my darlings,’ he fingered, ‘you look fantastic. Have you been good with your mother “huuu”? Looking after her “h’huu”, obeying her?’
‘ “Grnn” ye-es, Alph. ’ Magnus prodded his alpha’s muzzle, the signs beading Simon’s brow like meaningful sweat. ‘We’ve both got really good reports this term, and I got two gold stars from Mrs Greely –’
‘Well done, Magnus “h’hoooo”. What a bright young male you’re turning out to be.’
They were oblivious to the rest of the chimps who crowded into the hall, but now Simon broke off, hearing a familiar pant-hoot. “HoooGraa”! Jean Dykes vocalised, then, when she had his attention, signed to Simon, ‘Well, old Alpha, here we are!’ Simon had been most worried about meeting his ex again. There was so much baggage, so many misunderstandings, fights and falling-outs. There had been disagreements on matters of principle, precedent, hierarchy and fact. There had been fusions, fissions, alliances and coups within their group – too many to recall.
Simon feared that the sight of Jean’s muzzle alone might plunge him into his psychosis. And even if that didn’t happen, he had no image of how he should behave with her, of who should present to whom. ‘Don’t worry “grnn”. ’ Zack Busner had held him in check. ‘When the time comes – you’ll know what to do.’
Simon did – instinctively. He knuckle-walked to where Jean squatted, noting that she was unchanged, the same exact fringing of dark fur around her low brow, the same religious fervour flickering in her hooded eyes. “HoooH’Graa,” Simon vocalised, then, presenting very low, he swivelled and pushed his trembling scut towards her muzzle. Jean bestowed a sloppy kiss on Simon’s ischial scrag, then they reversed positions and Simon found himself kissing her arse. For a while after that, ignoring the other chimps who were establishing a provisional hierarchy around them, the two former nestmates gently and tenderly groomed one another – for old times’ sake.
Zack Busner looked on at this emotional refusion of old group members with a mixture of feelings. He wanted Simon to be well, naturally, and this scene couldn’t help but betoken a further alleviation of his ally’s morbid condition. Yet Busner also felt a certain sadness. Simon was his last patient, his final case; with his full recovery would come the end of Busner’s therapeutic career. The old ape might as well – metaphorically – crawl off into the underbrush and build his final nest.
Pushing these disturbing images to one side, Busner got bipedal, drummed the wall and vocalised loudly, “H’hoooo!” When the hubbub had died down a little, he flourished, ‘I would like to welcome adult and infant members of Simon’s ex-group to our home, and sign what a pleasure it is to see all your magnificently effulgent arseholes. Now “gru-nn”, there is a purpose to this fusion – Simon, Jean and I need to have an important gesticulation. I think it would be a good image if you infants went off and played together in the nursery – I don’t know whether you, Magnus, and your brother have the new play trees yet, I imagine you’ll find brachiating in them a hoot – while you visiting adult males have some first lunch “h’huu”?’
The big male who covered Jean Dykes by the front gate had been tardy, but he now knuckle-walked through the door with all the pedestrian pomp of a provincial professional chimp. Seeing this familiar gait, Simon suddenly knew who he was. It was Anthony Bohm, his doctor and old ally. So, that’s who Jean had taken on board, along with Derek the garagechimp and the thin beardless male with the dark-brown sideburns. “HooH’Graa,” Bohm vocalised, then knuckle-walking quickly over to Simon he presented low, gesturing, ‘Simon, how good to see your scrag, please kiss my arse “huu”?’ which Simon duly did.
Busner came over and gently separated the two chimps, signing, ‘Dr Bohm, please be so good as to have some first luncheon, there’s fresh durian on offer “chup-chupp”. After my gesticulation with these old nestmates, I’d like to finger with you in private for a while – if you’re amenable “huu”?’
Bohm presented low to Busner, signing, ‘Of course, Dr Busner, I am your guest, beholden to your beautiful ischial pleat, dependent on your divine dominance. I shall look forward to “gru-nn” holding forth anon. ’ Colin Weeks came up beside Bohm and got his fingers in the GP’s fur along with Busner’s. The two Busner chimps tickled the doctor’s fancy with more titbits, and in due course all the chimps fissioned into other rooms.
Once they had arranged themselves around the large oak desk in Busner’s study – Jean and Simon curled up in the chair, Zack squatting on the blotter – the three chimps got on with the matter in hand. ‘ “H’huu” Mrs Dykes –’
‘Please. ’ Jean waved him down. ‘Do ascript me Jean, Dr Busner. I acknowledge your temporary, temporal suzerainty, and while initially I had not envisioned your “euch-euch” soul doctoring doing any real good for my poor, benighted ex-alpha, I see now from the expression of humility on his muzzle that you have managed to drag him back some way towards the path of righteous
ness “h’hooo”.’
Busner was somewhat put out by this blazoning of belief, but he had been warned by both Jane Bowen and Simon himself about Jean Dykes’s consuming piety, so he let the signs stand uncontested, merely fluttering, ‘You’re too subservient, Mrs Dykes, too subservient.’
Simon, who had been signlent since breaking from the infant hurly-burly, was grooming Jean’s groin fur with great gentleness and – which explained the expression on his muzzle – great humility. Of all the chimps he had encountered, apart from his own infants, Jean’s body was the most familar to him. Her fur, her figure, her eyebrow ridges, even the peculiar dappling on her elongated teats – all of it reminded him of the past, of their group life together when he lived at the Brown House.
Now, teasing some of Dr Anthony Bohm’s fast-congealing semen out of her groin fur, he inparted – with utmost deference, ‘Show me “chup-chupp”, Jean, did we always have other adult males in residence when I fused with you “huu”?’
Jean goggled at Simon – such a nonsensical question was unsettling. ‘ “Hooo” my dear old cock, what are you gesturing about “huu”? Derek was your beta, and Anthony a rather distal-gamma. Of course Christobel used to live with us as well, but you never covered her as much as she would have liked. She fissioned well before we did “gru-nn”.’
This palping of the past provoked Simon’s most pressing concern. While the refusion with his infants had, thus far, gone well – there had been mutual recognition and satisfying grooming – nonetheless it was at some cost to the former artist. As much as the refusion drew him further into the bristling embrace of chimpunity, it also insistently presented to his mind’s eye those visions of lost humanity, that he increasingly viewed as psychotic, mad, humanshit.
Shadowing his two male infants Simon still saw a third, human one. He could remember Simon junior’s bare little visage, his undershot jaw and slightly goofy teeth, as well – if not better – than the muzzles of these unshaven offspring. With this memory came crepuscular images of a human past. Of making oven chips and fish fingers; of snapping underwear into place; of cross-peeing, the green streams plashing and spluttering over the bathroom floor. All of them involved three male infants. Where was that third?
Simon withdrew his fingers from Jean’s swelling and squatted up. He gestured, including Busner in his digitations, ‘I know this may be “hooo” disturbing for you, Jean, my adored ex-alpha. God knows, it’s disturbing enough for me, but part of this “hooo” illness of mine, this breakdown, has been the absolute conviction that we had three infants together – not two. Jean, can you “h’huuu” think of any reason why this should be the case?’
Initially Jean Dykes seemed to have ignored this odd question, the only sign that she winced at was Simon’s blasphemy. She now retaliated by poking her ex-alpha hard in the eye. “Eeeek”! Simon squeaked.
“Wraaa”! Jean vocalised, then gestured, ‘You should know better that to take the Lord’s sign in vain, Simon. Remember the Gospels: In the beginning was the sign and the sign was made flesh “h’huu”?’
Simon wasn’t foolhardy enough to challenge this attack; he presented to Jean and fluttered, ‘I’m so sorry “hooo”, I didn’t mean any disrespect, but, Jean, this missing infant “huu”? Why would I have such an odd memory “huu”?’
Jean Dykes was flummoxed. ‘ “Hooo” I really have no such image, Simon. Of course, I always wanted a third infant after Henry was weaned, but you “euch-euch” were insistent that you had to concentrate on your “euch-euch” art –’
‘Jean “gru-nn”, I’m sorry to flag you down, but the infant I have in mind would be between Magnus and Henry in age, perhaps around seven years old now. And Jean, I’m thinking of a “hooo” human infant.’
Busner was playing a subtle game of coochy-coo with Jean Dykes, signing with his toes on her volar region, ‘Please, Mrs Dykes, I know what he’s gesturing about must seem absurd, but try to humour him – he’s been making such progress recently …’
Jean arched her ridges. ‘A human infant “huu”? Of around seven years in age …’ Her fingers faltered, a light suddenly went on behind her green eyes. ‘A human infant “h’hee-hee”. Simon, you must “h’hee-hee” forgive me, there was – there was a human infant –’
‘What! “H’hoooo”! What, Jean “huuu”?’ The former artist shot bipedal, he was horripilating, everything about him signed feral intent.
‘Simon, please “hoogrnn” calm yourself. Yes, there was a human infant that we adopted –’
‘Adopted “huuu”?’
‘Yes “hee-hee” that’s right, in the zoo, in London Zoo. You arranged an adoption for our infants. It was part of that conservation programme, Lifewatch, I think that’s what it’s denoted. You know how keen the infants are on animals and you thought it would be good for them to have an “gru-nnn” individual animal which they could fuse with. It was one of your more paternal acts. You arranged to sponsor this animal and it was an infant male of around seven years –’
‘Did I “huuu”,’ Simon chopped in again, ‘did I give this human a name, Jean? Did I denote it anything “huu”?’
‘Well, you left that to Magnus, Simon, it was after all meant to be his project. As I recall he did denote it – I’m surprised you don’t –’
‘Why “huu”?’
‘Because it was a group joke, you and the infants used to cackle about it the whole time. You see, when you went to the zoo to see the human infant, his head fur was rather like yours, my ex-alpha, and his eyes, so Magnus denoted him … Simon.’
When Alex Knight, the documentary maker, arrived at Redington Road a couple of hours later, Simon’s ex-group were just leaving. Knuckle-walking up the front path he was confronted by the spectacle of approximately twenty adults and infants engaged in a vast valedictory grooming session. Without even bothering to present to any of them – they were so entwined with each other they wouldn’t notice anyway – he set his camcorder going and began taping. He wasn’t to stop for many days, so entertaining was the spectacle of Dr Busner and his unusual patient.
“HoooGraaa,” Simon vocalised for the last time as the two little scuts disappeared in the direction of Frognal. Magnus and Henry stopped knuckle-walking, turned back and gave valedictory pant-hoots, “HoooGraa.” Their falsetto cries shrilled in the afternoon gloom of an English day in late autumn.
Simon turned to Busner who squatted by him on the doorstep. ‘I will see them soon “huu”, won’t I, Zack?’
‘Of course you will, Simon, that “chup-chupp” refusion went exceptionally well. See how co-operative your ex was and how pleased your infants were to get a grooming from their alpha. Anthony Bohm, Derek and that gamma – what was he denoted “huu”?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Well, anyway, the other male too. They all signed to me that they wouldn’t mind you coming to stay at the group home whenever you wanted to see the infants. Now, that’s not so bad, is it “huuu”?’
‘No, I suppose “gru-nnn” not.’
Busner saw Alex Knight and called him over, ‘
“HoooH’Graa” Mr Knight, please be good enough to present yourself. ’ The young chimp scuttled over, arse first, camcorder aloft. ‘You’re just in time,’ Busner fingered on, after Knight had properly abased himself, ‘for a trip to the zoo.’
‘The zoo “huu”?’
‘You saw me, the zoo. My friend Mr Dykes has an adoptive human infant at London Zoo, a human infant that may represent the very keystone of his unfortunate delusion. We think that if he comes muzzle-to-muzzle with this animal, the negative cathexis he has constructed around the notion of humanity may well be dissolved. ’ Naturally, the television chimp didn’t really comprehend these signs, but he nodded sagely all the same and kept the camcorder rolling.
Simon was more agitated by this information. ‘What do you mean “huuu”? Are we going to the zoo right now “huu”?’
‘There’s no time like the present,’ the ma
verick anti-psychiatrist – as he liked to style himself – countersigned. ‘While you were “gru-nnn” having a valedictory groom with your ex-group, I pant-hooted Hamble in Eynsham. As I suspected, he knows the head primate keeper at London Zoo, a chimp called Mick Carchimp. Hamble pant-hooted Carchimp in turn and he’s agreed to show us round, see if he can assist us. “H’huu” I wonder if he’s part of the same group.’
‘Who “huu”?’
‘Carchimp – part of the same group as that libel lawyer.’
They went in the television crew’s van. Simon offered to drive the Volvo, showing Zack, ‘Go on, let me, I used to really enjoy driving. ’ But when he saw how many gears the car had – twenty forward and fifteen reverse, all requiring double declutching – he backed down.
Together with Alex Knight was his sound recordist, Janet Higson, and a research assistant-cum-gofer denoted Bob. Bob drove the van, Alex Knight squatted in the front seat and kept the camcorder trained on the two chimps in the back. Poor Higson struggled to catch their vocalisations with a boom mike that she pushed out from where she squatted in the van’s back compartment.
Mick Carchimp met them at the main gates together with the zoo’s director, a cheery fellow who insisted on them denoting him simply Jo. He presented low to both Zack and Simon, fluttering, ‘We are honoured, such an unusual patrol to visit us and both of you with such splendid ischial pleats, please be so good “gru-nnn” as to kiss my arse. ’ This they duly did, then the whole group of chimpanzees knuckle-walked down through the zoo to the humans’ enclosure, Alex Knight filming the while.
The zoo was fairly empty on this weekday afternoon. A few tourists squatted here and there, eating peanuts and grooming in a desultory fashion. The animals were also torpid. In the herons’ cage the birds stood, one-legged, as static as garden ornaments. In the gorillas’ enclosure, the only sign of life was a heaving pile of straw, hiding from view the silvery back fur of the giant male.