Aftermath

I feel more comfortable with gorillas than people. I can anticipate what a gorilla's going to do, and they're purely motivated.
Dian Fossey, US zoologist (yes, the one Sigourney Weaver portrayed.)

Edgar the Silverback Gorilla looks at the padded floor of his cell. He twiddles his thumbs. The door to the enclosure opens with a clang, like he’s in a prison movie. He hears it distant, from the outside of the cell. The cushioning covering his walls muffles the sound.

Here comes the proverbial bumming.

Fluffy Oakes steps in front of the glass in a white boiler suit, carrying a satchel over his shoulder. He opens a flat-pack chair, propped up against the wall. He sits down. He pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes closed.

“Edgar,” Fluffy says. “We’ve got a serious problem. The girl’s in a coma.”

“She’s a con-artist,” says the gorilla. “And I’m 180 kilos. She took a risk.”

“She did, and so did you when you left the zoo.”

Edgar nods, browbeaten.

“We’re in consultation about what’s going to happen. The bar won’t talk to the press. I won’t either. I won’t even tell my biographer.”

“That Tuckey guy? You won’t tell him this?”

“He won’t know.” Fluffy takes the satchel off and takes out a laptop. He loads it up and opens a website.

“Look,” says Fluffy. “Point 5.20 on page 8. They’re not even supposed to touch each other. It happens at strip clubs nationwide, but it’s not legal. It’s lewd conduct.”

“So we’re basically, er, sorta holding each other hostage. That’s not the phrase, but…”

“I know what you mean,” says Fluffy. “Yes. If word gets out either way, we'll just throw this back at them. They cast the first stone. I'll take on this club, I'm not afraid. But if it goes public then the zoo and the club are both up shit creek.”

“What about when the stripper wakes up?”

“If the stripper wakes up. I don’t know.”

“I won’t stand for people ripping me off, Fluffy,” Edgar says.

“Lower your voice.”

The ape enclosure is closed to the public today, but the walkway isn’t far away.

“I will never tolerate it,” barks Edgar. “Fuck them. Terence might, but he’s a mug.”

Fluffy looks up from the laptop. “They did it to Terence too?”

Edgar closes his eyes. When am I going to stop running my mouth?

He doesn’t have to nod.

“I take it he paid up?”

Edgar thinks of the town, the breeze, the expanse of water, the cold metal railings in his hands. “You could say that, yeah.”

“Why a strip club, Edgar? Of all the places. Newcastle is incredible. It’s a beautiful city. There’s so much you could have done. That’s where you go?"

“Blame Jacob. His idea.”

“You could have learned so much more if you’d done the standard sightseeing things…”

“I thought the trip was pretty educational, to be honest, Fluffy. Architecture doesn’t talk back to you. It doesn’t test your, like, integrity and shit. What would I have learned from a giant rusting angel model?”

It's Fluffy's turn to examine the floor.

“What now?” asks Edgar.

“The day release scheme is on hold. English Language lessons will continue.” Fluffy closes the laptop. “I want to ask you a question, Edgar.”

“Shoot.”

“Do you like humans?”

A pause.

Edgar sighs. He rests his hand on a lump of dismembered wood. “Some of them are okay, I suppose.” He flicks a piece of straw off his arm. “Some just want to push their weight around. Even right here,” he says, prodding the floor with a thick stubby finger, “at visiting times, the kids shove in front of each other. You see the short ones get pushed to the back so the taller kids get a better view. That’s not fair. Nobody intervenes. I’d rather, y’know, go too far than not go there at all.”

He necks a paracetamol.

“The dancers up there…” Edgar continues, “they try to trick people out of their money. Because they do a job that’s sorta controversial or whatever, they think people won’t say shit. Like guys don’t want people to know they’ve been to a strip club.”

Fluffy sighs. “Not my area of expertise, Edgar. I’m going to put the day release scheme on hold. I want you all to be ready. Clearly, you in particular, you’re not. We could do some exercises to improve your behaviour. You could increase your vocabulary as well.”

Edgar knuckles his way forward to the glass. “You’ve taught me enough talking.” His nostrils steam up the window. “Think of the girl, Fluffy. Don’t you think you’d better teach me when not to talk?”

“Believe me, Edgar. “That’s a much harder lesson to learn.”