by Alan Black
Gary looked at Porrizzo, but spoke into the reporter’s microphone. “That loud mouth in the back is my friend Rome. I am Gary Scopes, Master Chief Petty Officer, U.S. Navy retired. And I, sir, took an oath to defend the American Constitution. I am familiar with its requirements. I may be retired from active duty, but I did not retire my oath to protect and defend the precepts of that document.”
Gary turned from Porrizzo and looked directly into the camera of a national news network. “I do not see, nor have I ever seen where the First Amendment puts a time frame on our right of free speech. The time for our freedom of speech is now. It is always now. Further, I have the right by the First Amendment to peaceably assemble.” He turned back to Porrizzo, “So, Mr. Attorney General, go ahead and have your pet storm trooper haul me out of here. I can guarantee you that you will have a federal lawsuit for civil rights violations shoved so far up your backside that you will be able to see it with both of your faces.”
Porrizzo said, “I am a state employee. There is a time and a place for your voice-”
Gary’s voice interrupted Porrizzo’s amplified speech, “The First Amendment also gives me the right to petition the government for a redress of grievances. In this case, you are the government and I have questions that require redress.”
Gary could see that the majority of the crowd was beginning to side with him. Porrizzo would have to cave and walk away or answer a few real questions. Gary saw a change in Porrizzo’s eyes. It was the same look he had seen when interrogating prisoners of war. Somehow, some men always thought they would be able to answer Gary’s questions and still not divulge any real information. Gary grinned inwardly. He could see the thought patterns emerge. Porrizzo had just accepted that Gary had been, after all, only an enlisted man, not even an officer. He knew Porrizzo was wondering how sharp could Gary be? It was a common mistake among non-veterans.
Porrizzo put on his sharpest, winning smile, “Mr. Scopes, I will answer any question you have related to this situation. But, I must warn you that any deviation from this most dire situation and I will stop this press conference immediately.”
Gary looked at Porrizzo and said, “First, did you know it is Doctor Marks, not Mister Marks?”
“Um, yes. Perhaps I misspoke earlier-”
“Are you aware, sir, Dr. Marks was at the zoo at the time of the attack by these criminals and that he is credited with saving the life of another zoo employee?”
“Yes. That may have been in my notes-” Porrizzo fumbled through a stack of papers, trying to look as if there was such a mass of data that no one could expect him to remember everything.
Gary asked, “Are you aware, sir, Dr. Marks is a zoologist with the Birmingham Zoo, and has been in charge of the Great Ape House for many years, giving him access at anytime of the day or night?”
Porrizzo looked through his notes, stalling as he tried to think of an answer.
Gary continued before Porrizzo could respond, “Are you aware, sir, the guns used in the killings at the zoo were brought into the zoo by the men you characterized as nothing more than trespassers?” Without pausing for an answer Gary continued, “Are you aware, sir, the men who brought in those guns had earlier knifed and killed a retired veteran of the Birmingham Police Department? And, if you are aware of this, why would you continue to characterize these men as nothing more than a few fun loving youths sneaking into the zoo after hours? And if you were not aware of these facts, the question is: why not?”
Gary saw the realization in Porrizzo’s face that he was stuck and that Gary may know more about this situation than the average person may.
Porrizzo said, “Yes. I have that information.”
Gary said, “Then why did you characterize Dr. Marks as someone who might not be authorized to be at the zoo?”
Porrizzo said, “I am not on trial here, Mr. Scopes.”
Gary grinned openly, “You are a politician, Mr. Porrizzo. You are on trial anytime you step outside your front door. And as for politics, when you ran for the office of Attorney General, you did so on the platform that the death sentence was wrong. But, now you are saying that no matter what the reasoning, Harpo has to be put to death. Is that your stance?”
Porrizzo said, “Animals are not human and we should hold them to a different standard.”
Gary said, “Humans were given dominance on this planet by God to tend and keep the planet. Not to kill everything and destroy it all. Are you saying that we should not bother to act humanely and rationally towards animals?”
Porrizzo said, “Of course not, we should be as humane as possible. Killing something or someone is hard. Maybe if you were more familiar with killing you might realize how hard this decision is for me.”
Gary said, “I am as familiar with killing as I need to be. I can guarantee that in my service to this country I have ended more lives than you ever will in your worst dreams. As for killing being hard, yes sir, killing is hard. And killing Harpo will be harder on him than it will be on you. The question is whether this was really a hard decision for you or are you grasping at this to prop up your run for governor?”
Porrizzo said, “The ape-”
“The ape has a name,” Gary interrupted.
Porrizzo started again, “The orangutan in question-”
“Harpo,” Gary interrupted again. “The orangutan in question has a name. He is Harpo.”
Rome began chanting from the back of the crowd, “Harpo. Harpo. Harpo.”
The crowd picked up the chant.
“Harpo. Harpo. Harpo.”
Porrizzo waved with a sad smile at the cameras and walked away. Captain Williams and a few reporters still shouting questions, followed him.
**
HARPO looked at the small hairless-not-people sitting around him in the grass. They were a more polite bunch than his small tribe. They were not throwing things at each other and at him. They were not tugging at each other and at him. They were not spitting on each other and on him. They were not even touching each other or him, except for the smallest one sitting in his lap. It made him miss his own tribe. These hairless-not-people were not as fun as his people.
He could see Carl over his shoulder and was glad Carl was there. It was fun sitting in the grass under the bright sun, but all of the openness made him nervous. He was not familiar with this new open space. The meadows all around had tall plants that could hide any number of dangerous animals. He could see many trees. The edge of a jungle was not too far away. But, he would not be able to defend himself and all of these small hairless-not-people if he were attacked by more than one dangerous animal. He was sure Carl would help. He was not sure about the other larger hairless-not-people.
He could smell the femaleness on one of the large hairless-not-people. Even though it was not-people he could tell by its stance and watchful eyes that it was the dominant female in this group. The two small females in the grass were of breeding age. Harpo could smell their femaleness. But, they had not been taken yet by the older dominant male standing with Carl. Harpo could smell that too.
Harpo was glad for the smells. He liked his own jungle, but the seeing-rock blocked all smells. He could not smell the hairless-not-people Carl trapped there for his entertainment. Hairless-not-people smelled different from any of the people. They did not smell bad, just different. Here in the open he could smell the hairless-not-people, the wind through the grass, the fruit in the bucket, and could feed the sun as it lay warm on his back.
He was only slightly curious about this small band of hairless-not-people. They often acted like people, but the fact that he could smell other full-grown males who had not challenged the dominant male in their pack was more proof that they were not-people. They were more clever than the small-hairy-not-people, but they were still not-people.
They must be part of Carl’s tribe; otherwise, the other large hairless-not-people would have challenged Carl’s presence. Instead, it was standing next to Carl like they had fed at the same breast.
>
He could smell a young hairless-not-people male standing back where the females had come from earlier. He turned his head to look. It was just beginning to reach full maleness. It was too small to challenge the larger males, but it was full of its own maleness. He thought he had seen the same youth earlier. He thought it might be the one with the loud animals. He was not sure. It seemed to be trying to relax, but was tense as if it were protecting their nest. Harpo decided that the hairless-not-people-cage the females had come from must be their cave or a nest in a cave.
Harpo waved at the youngster. The youngster waved back.
Harpo decided it must be the same young hairless-not-people as before. Not that it mattered. They all looked the same anyway. It was hard to tell hairless-not-people apart without smell, but he had years of practice watching them through the seeing-rock.
One of the small females reached out. It was holding another apple for him to take. It did not offer the fruit to him. It just held the apple where he could easily reach. He hesitated again, checking over his shoulder. The large dominant hairless-not-people male did not react, so he stroked the female’s wrist with his fingers. It was the people’s way of saying thanks. He took the fruit. This time the small female stretched its own fingers out and brushed his wrist asking if he wanted the apple.
Harpo laughed in his grunting huff. The small hairless-not-people in his lap laughed with him. The small female hairless-not-people had asked the right thing, but at the wrong time. It was too late to offer him a thing after he already had it. He certainly was not about to give it back. But, he knew that this one could learn. After all, Carl had learned to be a good servant to the people.
He reasoned all other hairless-not-people could learn to be useful in some manner or another. Back in his jungle, there were many hairless-not-people who were useful, some more than others were. Carl was the best of them. This small band of hairless-not-people must be part of Carl’s tribe. There was a connection in the smell and their manner towards one another. They could learn to be as good a servant as Carl. Harpo liked that idea. He liked Carl. He decided that he liked Carl’s tribe.
A shout brought Harpo’s head around. He could not see the hairless-not-person who had made the loud noise. The wind was coming from the wrong direction to smell it. Suddenly, the wind brought a slight scent to his nostrils he remembered clearly and fearfully. He smelled the hairless-not-people from the tribe that had hurt Teri and frightened him.
He jumped to his feet, spilling the young, male hairless-not-people into the soft grass. He filled the large air sac at his neck and bellowed a long call into the wind. The pulsing roar did not stop. He raised his arms high and waved them around, puffing his chest out, but he could not see the other tribe of hairless-not-people.
A full-grown male came running from the hairless-not-people-cage where Carl had been earlier. The male tossed a thing to the other dominate male and then moved to stand between Harpo and the wind. It blocked the smell. This hairless-not-people also carried a thing. Harpo remembered the thing from his early time in the first jungle. The hairless-not-people who had taken him carried such things. They were loud and hurtful. They were like the thing Harpo played with before when he hurt the other tribe and it hurt his ears. They were danger-things.
Harpo could see Carl and the head male of this tribe looking into the wind, but not moving. He knew not moving was wrong. He knew he could not fight what he could not see and if he could not fight, then he must run.
His long call still bellowed and echoed back from his surrounding countryside. Harpo scooped up the young male and grabbed an arm of the smallest female. He carried them easily back to the hairless-not-people-cage they had come out of earlier. It did look like a cave of some kind; the tribe’s nest. A rock-not-rock stopped him from entering the nest. Rather than drop either youngster, he reached a foot out, clutched a footfull of rock-not-rock and yanked it out of the way. The rock-not-rock flew into the grass. He tossed the young hairless-not-people into their nest.
Harpo spun about. His long call finally slowed to a huffing sigh. He sniffed the wind. He could get clear smells on the wind. He was not getting any odor of the other tribe. He let the dominate female herd the other young female past him into the nest. She bodily dragged the young, almost-fully-grown-male hairless-not-people into the nest with her. She slammed a rock-no-rock into place, blocking the opening.
Harpo stood still. Carl and the other two full sized males had not moved far. Carl and the one with him were stooped down behind what Harpo knew was a not-animal. The hairless-not-people had learned to ride in the not-animals. Not on, but in. When the hairless-not-people got in the not-animals, the not-animals became hairless-not-people-go-fast-cages when they moved.
The young hairless-not-people still held a danger-thing. It was peeking from a hiding place. All three looked as if they were staring into the wind. He doubted they were smelling the wind. How could something smell anything with such small noses!
He huffed loudly a few times and then bellowed another long call challenge into the wind. There was no response.
NINE
ROOSTER slowly exhaled. “Holy crap on a crutch; I think I just messed my britches.”
“That is a verbalization to warn off non-dominate males and to challenge other dominate males to fight. I have heard him almost a half a mile away. That call must have lasted a couple of minutes,” Carl replied. “Harpo is a sight when he gets excited about something.” He could see Harpo standing on the porch sniffing into the wind.
Rooster nodded in agreement. “Being just a sight ain’t all of it. He ripped off the screen door with one foot.”
Carl said, “Be glad he is on our side. I believe he thinks of us as an extension to his shrewdness. The way he moved to protect the two youngest tells me he has taken some responsibility for us.”
Rooster said, “He is responsible for us? And all this time I thought I was in charge, or at worst yet, you were in charge.”
Carl shook his head, “Harpo thinks he is in charge. I do not want him to think any different. I do not know how he would react if he decided that we were not acting in his best interests; or at least, acting out for his entertainment.”
“Entertainment?” Rooster asked. “We are here for his amusement?”
Carl looked at his cousin, “From Harpo’s perspective, yes.”
“So what just set him off?”
Carl nodded his chin toward Spud. The teenager stood up and walked over to them behind an old four-door sedan. The young man flowed with the ease of an athlete.
Spud said, “Sorry, Dad. I may have jumped the gun, so to speak, and put a scare into the monkey.”
Carl said, “Ape. Harpo is an ape, not a monkey. And I don’t know if you jumped the gun or not. Harpo caught a whiff of something on the wind that set him off.”
Rooster nodded thoughtfully and asked Spud, “You said they got out of their truck?”
Spud answered, “Yes, sir. Well, I can only see two black men. One did get out of their truck. I think he was just going to take a wiz in the weeds, but lost the urge when he saw me run out of the barn with both rifles in hand. Or maybe the rebel yell from our ape friend up on the porch made him bladder shy. Either way, he climbed back in their pick’em-up as quick as a hungry dog on a dropped, hot, buttered biscuit.”
Carl said, “Harpo must have caught the scent of strangers. He reacted to the slightest indication of danger. He is still a wild animal no matter how calm he seems most of time. He grew up in the jungles of Sumatra, where any open area like this would be a dangerous place to be. Did you notice the fight or flight instinct? He could not see the men in the truck from where he sat, so he took flight until all of the kids were safe in the house. Then he turned to fight. I will bet your pack of dogs would do much the same thing if you let them out of their pen. Strangers that smell different smell like danger.”
Spud asked, “So, Harpo thinks the two men in that truck are dangerous?”
Roo
ster asked in response, “They cops of some sort?”
Spud said, “No, sir. Not that I could tell.”
Carl said, “Law enforcement of any kind would drive up here without a second thought or a by-your-leave. These two gentlemen must have something else in mind. I don’t mean to sound racist or anything, but are they American black or the really dark African black?”
Spud said, “Dark, Cousin Red. Real dark. Why?”
Carl grimaced. He said, “Well, the gang that broke into the zoo and…” His voice faded away as he thought about Teri stabbed and lying in a hospital bed.
Rooster and Spud did not say a thing as they waited for Carl to get his thoughts together.
Carl cleared his throat, “Um, I was just on the phone with Chuck, my lawyer. He said the gang who attacked us at the zoo the other night might be comprised of immigrants from Rwanda in East Africa. They seem to be a minor subset in the drug trade, part of an organized crime ring. Word on the street is that they have put a contract out on Harpo and me.”
Rooster frowned and said, “A contract? Just like the movies. I know that a couple of their men got killed, but I would think that would be just a cost of doing business for them.”
Carl said, “Apparently, one of them was the only son of the head guy. Chuck says the police are looking for him and his men, but they are coming up empty so far.”
Rooster spat into the dust on the driveway. “Crap! We all saw the broadcast about Harpo taking a couple of them out after they stabbed someone. They killed some guard and stabbed some girl, right?”
Carl nodded, thinking about Teri.
Spud said, “Not just some girl, Dad. That look on Cousin Red’s face is the same one Barry Johnson gets when he looks at Ruby. Of course, Ruby doesn’t want anything to do with Barry and that is what causes that look.”
Rooster said, “Ah sorry, Red. She not interested?”