{"id":254,"date":"2016-05-12T13:41:42","date_gmt":"2016-05-12T18:41:42","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thespectaclstg.wpengine.com\/?p=254"},"modified":"2019-06-03T15:26:25","modified_gmt":"2019-06-03T20:26:25","slug":"gorillas-are-gentle-by-jessica-anthony","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thespectacle.wustl.edu\/?p=254","title":{"rendered":"“Gorillas are Gentle” by Jessica Anthony"},"content":{"rendered":"

I am found ONE BURNING AFTERNOON, deep in the sand of the NUBIAN DESERT, in the uplands heading towards the RED SEA. Dr. Leonard Benjamin and his students are just about to pack it in when one of them, a FAT PUBESCENT named BRIDGET, who has done nothing but LEAN ON A SHOVEL ALL DAY AND COMPLAIN OF DYSPEPSIA, brushes an inch of sand with her shoe and discovers a bone.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDr. B, I found an arm!\u201d she shouts, but it isn\u2019t an arm, it\u2019s a FIBULA, and it\u2019s completely intact.  <\/span><\/p>\n

Dr. Benjamin holds up the fibula. \u201cThat\u2019s a FIBULA,\u201d he says.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe arm,\u201d says Bridget. \u201cThat\u2019s what I said.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe fibula is part of the LEG,\u201d says Dr. Benjamin.  <\/span><\/p>\n

(He has this WAY OF SPEAKING.)<\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\n

In seconds, they discover my skull and lift me up, sand spilling out of my EYE-HOLES like water. Above us, the hot circle of sun. And over the course of the evening, TWO HUNDRED BROKEN BONES are lifted from the sand and carried back to Dr. Benjamin\u2019s laboratory in TWO HUNDRED SQUARE PLASTIC BAGS. <\/span><\/p>\n

Bridget wants to make sure she gets credit. <\/span><\/p>\n

She says she wants to call me Bridget II.<\/span><\/p>\n

Dr. Benjamin says nothing. He collects the bags and closes the door on his students, and when we\u2019re alone, he pours me out onto the METAL EXAMINING TABLE and arranges me, my bones in place for the first time since I don\u2019t know when.  <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHOLYMOTHEROFCHRISTMAS,\u201d he says.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\n

The newspapers say I\u2019m an AUSTRALOPITHECUS GARHI, but Dr. Benjamin says that\u2019s not right. He says I\u2019m not a Garhi. He says I\u2019m the missing link between the Australopithecus and the GENUS HOMO. He says there isn\u2019t a proper scientific name for what I am yet. ANIMALIA CHORDATA MAMMALIA, he says. My number is AL-882. He calls me Ursula.<\/p>\n

\u201cUrsula,\u201d he says, blowing sand from my face. \u201cYou are one VERY SPECIAL GIRL.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\n

Dr. Benjamin is the whitest man I\u2019ve ever seen. His cheeks are pink, round as small buttocks.  His nose is as blue as a newborn\u2019s. He wears a second pair of eyes he calls MY SPECKS. In them is a ghastly reflection. I can\u2019t watch as he cleans my bones with tiny brushes or covers me in a light mist. \u201cDRI-QUIK POLYURETHANE SPRAY,\u201d he says, and shows me the SPRAY CAN. When he\u2019s finished, he takes off the fake eyes and leans over me. His real eyes look like daylight.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is a whole new world, Ursula,\u201d he says. \u201cIt\u2019s going to take some getting used to.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\n

Six large suns hang over the examining table. They are very bright\u2014\u201cYOUR BASIC MEDICAL LAMPS,\u201d says Dr. Benjamin\u2014but they give off no heat. The old world was hot and all howls. Dripping sounds. A variety of meats-being-torn-from-their-CARCASSES sounds. All I hear now is Dr. Benjamin walking from one side of the room to the other, clicking his pen. Occasionally farting.<\/p>\n

He\u2019s trying to figure out how it happened. My bones are EXTRAORDINARILY INTACT, he says, for being so old. \u201cYou were just eighteen when you died, Ursula,\u201d he says. \u201cYou lived in a high elevation that was WETCOOLANDFORESTED.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

(Death happened QUICK. The elephants RAGED. Dust flew up around me, and I choked, trying not breathe it in, but I did breathe it in. The rains came soon after, and I sank INTO MUD.)<\/span><\/p>\n

Bridget shaves a tiny piece of bone from my skull. <\/span><\/p>\n

She hands it to Dr. Benjamin with FINE PLASTIC TWEEZERS.  <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWe found your FIBULA first,\u201d he continues, \u201cbut many other bones followed: the skull, femur, ilium. The SCAPULA.  The SUBSCAPULARIS.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

He places the shaving under a microscope, and looks into it, beaming. \u201cBefore you came along, the best proof we had was the LAETOLI FOOTPRINTS. The trail of your ancestors, FOSSILIZED in VOLCANIC ROCK.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhy are you <\/span>talking<\/span><\/i> to it,\u201d says Bridget. <\/span><\/p>\n

Dr. Benjamin doesn\u2019t answer. He applies a CALCITIC STRENGTHENING OINTMENT and CLEAR DRYING GLUE. <\/span><\/p>\n

As he works, his fingers titillate my PARTIAL MANDIBLE. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cForward-protruding,\u201d he says, and grins. \u201cPROGNATHIC with a U-SHAPED PALETTE. Your environment was extremely hospitable, Ursula,\u201d he says. \u201cYou lived in a SAVANNA among ACACIA TREES and MYRSINE BOXWOOD SHRUBBERY. Oh, you could do all kinds of things. You could carry things, make tools. You could perform all kinds of INTRICATE MANIPULATIONS.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\n

The next day, Dr. Benjamin pulls something over his hands. A second skin. \u201cLATEX GLOVES,\u201d he says, and snaps the wrists. \u201cScientists have two pairs of eyes and two pairs of hands.\u201d<\/p>\n

He holds up a PICTURE BOOK and points to a big yellow splotch. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re in AFRICA,\u201d he says. \u201cSUDAN, to be specific.\u201d He turns the page. \u201cAnd this is what Africa used to look like.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I recognize the trees. The fat birds with little red heads that resemble berries. The volcano, where dank, humid air rises up from the river like gas and mud bubbles up between your PHALANGES.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s where you come from,\u201d Dr. Benjamin says, and taps the book. \u201cYou are a time traveler, Ursula. You lived in the first WORLD OF BIPEDS. You walked on two feet. Take your PELVIS, for example. Your pelvis slopes inward, toward the knee, but not too much.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

Dr. Benjamin reaches down and lightly lifts my pelvis, cradling it in his palms like a small bowl. \u201cOhmygod,\u201d he says, under his breath. \u201cOhmygod, OHMYGOD.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

(BABY. She clung to my ankles. Rubbed her butt in the grass and made kissing sounds while she slept.)<\/span><\/p>\n

Dr. Benjamin walks back and forth very quickly from one side of the ROOM to the other. \u201cIt could be OUT THERE,\u201d he says, and pushes open the door.  <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBRIDGET!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\n

Dr. Benjamin says now that everyone knows about me, I\u2019ll soon be out of THIS ROOM. I will be doing a lot more traveling. I will become famous. \u201cJust wait until you see an AIRPLANE, Ursula,\u201d he says, and shakes his head. \u201cMen can fly now. We can fly all the way to OUTER SPACE. There are EIGHT PLANETS in our solar system. We thought there were nine for many years. But there are only eight.\u201d<\/p>\n

Suddenly, Bridget barges in. \u201cWe\u2019ve got something, Dr. B,\u201d she says.  <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is it,\u201d he says. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cA piece of hyoid bone. Very small. We\u2019re staying out tonight. Setting up lamps.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGOOD,\u201d says Dr. Benjamin without moving his face from my skull. \u201cThat could be your BABY,\u201d he whispers, and another, smaller examining table is rolled in through the door. <\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\n

Parts of her are beginning to ASSEMBLE. The piece of HYOID BONE is there, as well as four tiny pieces of her left hand. They cannot say whether it\u2019s her FOR SURE, or even a RELATIVE.<\/p>\n

But I just have a FEELING.  <\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\n

The following week, journalists are CROWDING THE DOORWAY. They see Dr. Benjamin hunched over me and START HOOTING. One of them pushes through and runs to my table, accidentally bumping it, knocking my FEMUR to the FLOOR.  It splinters.<\/p>\n

\u201cEveryone OUT!\u201d Dr. Benjamin shouts, and turns the lock. He shows me a paper. \u201c<\/span>THE NEW YORK TIMES<\/span><\/i>,\u201d he says, grinning.  <\/span><\/p>\n

On the front page is a picture. It\u2019s a little brown skeleton assembled on an examining table underneath six bright lights. Dr. Benjamin reads aloud the headline: <\/span><\/p>\n

MISSING LINK BETWEEN APE AND MAN FOUND<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s no disputing it now,\u201d he says. \u201cThe news is out.\u201d He laughs so hard he starts crying. \u201cUrsula,\u201d he says. \u201cDo you realize what this means? You are the MOTHER OF US ALL!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Dr. Benjamin turns away from me, his face in his hands.  A noise grows from inside of him, and he starts shaking his fist. Then his whole body shakes. \u201cHOLYMOTHERFUCKINGSHIT,\u201d he shouts, and then looks at me. \u201cWhat do you SAY, Ursula,\u201d he cries.  <\/span><\/p>\n

I glance at the small table. <\/span><\/p>\n

(BABY not finished.)<\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\n

There is a PARTY tonight. There are SEVEN BILLION PEOPLE in the world, Dr. Benjamin says, and they all want to see me. Representatives from EVERY NATION have arrived. One man in particular is trying very hard to get into the laboratory, but Dr. Benjamin says NO. He says that I\u2019m not READY YET. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s the ITALIANS,\u201d he whispers. \u201cThey\u2019re very UP IN ARMS, as you can imagine,\u201d he says. \u201cYou know, THE POPE.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

From the corridor, the Italians shout at Dr. Benjamin and Dr. Benjamin\u2019s students shout at the Italians until the man sticks his foot in the door. He PUSHES himself into the lab like he OWNS IT. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201c<\/span>Buongiorno<\/span><\/i>, Dr. Benjamin,\u201d he says. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMinister,\u201d Dr. Benjamin says.<\/span><\/p>\n

The Minister is very tall and very wide\u2014twice the size of Dr. Benjamin\u2014and he is wearing a GIGANTIC WHITE LAB COAT. His eyes are as black as a bird\u2019s. He strolls around the laboratory, his hands clasped at his BACK. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWe only want to have a look at the carcass,\u201d he says. \u201cTo make sure that you indeed have what you say you have.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Dr. Benjamin sighs. \u201cFine,\u201d he says, and flattens his PALMS. \u201cJust DON\u2019T TOUCH anything.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The Minister waves him away. He points to the examining table. \u201cIs that the chimp?\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s closer to a gorilla. The GORILLA GENOME is closer to HUMAN DNA than to our NEAREST evolutionary RELATIVE. We call her URSULA because the gorilla is the greatest of the apes. Sort of like the grizzly of bears,\u201d says Dr. Benjamin.  <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSo the most <\/span>vicious<\/span><\/i>,\u201d says the Minister.<\/span><\/p>\n

Dr. Benjamin tries another angle. He shows him my pelvis. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou can really see the gorilla in the PELVIS,\u201d he says. \u201cAnd in the proportion of the MOLARS to the INCISORS, of course.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The Minister hangs himself over me. His white coat smells like COOKED MEAT. He glances at Dr. Benjamin, then grabs my tiny skull and holds it up under the lights with TWO FINGERS.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOh, BE CAREFEUL!\u201d Dr. Benjamin cries. \u201cUrsula is very fragile! Put her down, PLEASE!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The Minister ignores him. He inspects me very closely, breathing out through his LARGE MOUTH. His lips appear greasy. Wet as guts. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhy, it\u2019s not even complete,\u201d he scoffs.<\/span><\/p>\n

(He\u2019s right. Parts of my skull have been artificially coagulated with CLAY and with GLUE.) The Minister looks at the other examining table. He looks at my BABY. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBut these are just bits and pieces,\u201d he says. \u201cFragments of bones, nothing more.\u201d He pokes the hyoid with a finger. \u201cIt\u2019s a natural <\/span>anomalia<\/span><\/i>, I think. <\/span>Irregolarit\u00e1<\/span><\/i>.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWell, you think WRONG,\u201d says Dr. Benjamin.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cLast year, there was a baby born in Switzerland with two mouths,\u201d the Minister says.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cUrsula and her baby were BORN EXACTLY as they were meant to be born,\u201d says Dr. Benjamin. <\/span><\/p>\n

The Minister drops my skull onto the table with a KNOCK, and moves towards the door. \u201cIt\u2019s an ape,\u201d he says. \u201c<\/span>Scimmia<\/span><\/i>, gorilla. It\u2019s an animal\u2014nothing more.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

When he leaves, Dr. Benjamin leans against my table and removes his SPECKS. He breathes on them, turning them into two CIRCULAR CLOUDS. He polishes them with a DRY CLOTH. \u201cWe\u2019re ALL animals,\u201d he says.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\n

Everyone\u2019s at the party but me. Dr. Benjamin\u2019s students wanted to ROLL ME OUT for it, but after the Minister left Dr. Benjamin decided that I should stay LOCKED UP in the EXAMINING ROOM. For SAFEKEEPING. In DARKNESS.  <\/span><\/p>\n

The six hanging suns are switched off.  <\/span><\/p>\n

Listening to the noise of PEOPLE LAUGHING next door, I think about BABY, what she looked like before. Her brown eyes were close together. She had a large, pouty lip. Her arms were soft; sweet-smelling fur over a LIGHT OAK EPIDERMIS, Dr. Benjamin said. She liked to hold her KNEECAPS in her hands.<\/span><\/p>\n

Suddenly, the lock on the door clicks open. Someone SLITHERS IN, and it\u2019s not Dr. Benjamin. Dr. Benjamin is at the party. I can hear him talking down the corridor about the complexities of my SPINAL APPARATUS, my SYNAPTOPODIN. My DENDRITIC SPINE PLASTICITY. <\/span><\/p>\n

It\u2019s Bridget. She is carrying a SMALL MOVING LIGHT that zips over the walls like a COMET. She goes to a corner of the laboratory, removes the little plastic bags from a CABINET, and stuffs them into a DY-NO-MITE WORKOUT PURPLE GYM BAG. Then she comes to my table. She folds up my bones. She folds up BABY, too. <\/span><\/p>\n

She puts us both into the bag, and carries us OUT.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\n

We are in a new room with a LONG RED BED lined with red pillows. The place smells like BODIES and CIGARETTES. There are no hanging suns.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNot going to blow it all on nice hotels,\u201d Bridget says, and I do not presume that she is SPEAKING TO ME.<\/span><\/p>\n

She arranges the plastic bags on the bed, then begins organizing me, one piece per bag. Then she places BABY\u2019s pieces in bags. She writes on SMALL LABELS with a GREEN MAGIC MARKER. It takes her nearly three hours to do it. When that\u2019s finished, she brings out a SUITCASE, and she puts us into the suitcase just as there\u2019s knock on the door. <\/span><\/p>\n

Bridget answers it.<\/span><\/p>\n

It\u2019s the Minister, still in the white lab coat. He sees the suitcase, and his black eyes FLICKER. He hands Bridget a thick BUSINESS-SIZED ENVELOPE.  <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cTen thousand,\u201d she says.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201c<\/span>Si<\/span><\/i>,\u201d says the Minister.<\/span><\/p>\n

Bridget puts the envelope under one of the PILLOWS. She picks up the suitcase holding ALL OF OUR PARTS. \u201cYou\u2019re going to be careful with them, right?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201c<\/span>Ovviamente<\/span><\/i>,\u201d the Minister says.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you\u2019ll tell the news I found her,\u201d says Bridget. \u201cI was the one.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOf course,\u201d he says.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you\u2019ll name her Bridget II.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\n

I am on the SEAT OF AN AIRPLANE with TWO LOUD PROPELLERS. It is a black night, and we are flying up high. The sky is all STARS. <\/span><\/p>\n

(BABY, we\u2019re in OUTER SPACE.)<\/span><\/p>\n

The Minister and another man UNBUCKLE THEIR SEATBELTS. They open each plastic bag and dump us into a pile on the FLOOR of the airplane, my bones and MY BABY\u2019S. The other man stands up. He throws his shoulder against the door of the plane and COLD AIR rushes in. The Minister\u2019s white coat is flapping wildly as he grabs my little skull with one hand. He edges himself to the DOOR of the PLANE and holds my skull like a TENNIS BALL. He throws it.  <\/span><\/p>\n

The rest follows in handfuls.<\/span><\/p>\n

As we fall, Dr. Benjamin, parts of us DISSOLVE TOGETHER. In the cold, dark, AFRICAN SKY, we are a reunion of DUST. I have no wish to be the mother of you all. Just the mother of one. And when we land somewhere in ETHIOPIA, parts of us scatter beneath WANZA LEAVES. Parts of us are wedged in the HIGH AND WIDE BRANCHES of the mature acacia. Buried beneath MYRSINE BOXWOOD SHRUBBERY.  <\/span><\/p>\n

The rest of us sinks, with relief, INTO MUD.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n
\n

Jessica Anthony is the author of The Convalescent<\/em> (McSweeney\u2019s\/Grove), and Chopsticks<\/em> (Penguin\/Razorbill), a multimedia novel created in collaboration with designer Rodrigo Corral. Anthony\u2019s novels have been published in 11 countries, and her short stories can be found in Best New American Voices, Best American Nonrequired Reading, McSweeney\u2019s, The Idaho Review <\/i>and elsewhere. She has recently received fellowships from the Creative Capital Foundation for Innovative Literature, the Bogliasco Foundation, and the Maine Arts Commission. She lives in Portland, Maine.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I am found ONE BURNING AFTERNOON, deep in the sand of the NUBIAN DESERT, in the uplands heading towards the RED SEA…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":249,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[26],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thespectacle.wustl.edu\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/254"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thespectacle.wustl.edu\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thespectacle.wustl.edu\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thespectacle.wustl.edu\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thespectacle.wustl.edu\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=254"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/thespectacle.wustl.edu\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/254\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thespectacle.wustl.edu\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/249"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thespectacle.wustl.edu\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=254"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thespectacle.wustl.edu\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=254"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thespectacle.wustl.edu\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=254"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}