The One and Only Ivan

I press my nose against the glass and watch her walk away. All my work, all my planning, wasted.

I look at Ruby, sleeping soundly, and suddenly I know she’ll never leave the Big Top Mall. She’ll be here forever, just like Stella.

I can’t let Ruby be another One and Only.

chest-beating

Often, when visitors come to see me, they beat their hands against their puny chests, pretending to be me.

They pound away, soundless as the wet wings of a new butterfly.

The chest beating of a mad gorilla is not something you ever want to hear. Not even if you’re wearing earplugs.

Not even if you’re three miles away, wearing earplugs.

A real chest beating sends the whole jungle running, as if the sky has broken open, as if men with guns are near.

angry

Thump.

The sound—my sound—echoes through the mall.

George and Julia spin around.

Julia drops her backpack. George drops his keys. The pile of pictures goes flying.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

I bounce off the walls. I screech and bellow. I beat and beat and beat my chest.

Bob hides under Not-Tag, his paws over his ears.

I’m angry, at last.

I have someone to protect.

puzzle pieces

After a long while, I grow quiet. I sit. It’s hard work, being angry.

Julia looks at me with wide, disbelieving eyes.

I’m panting. I’m a little out of shape.

“What the heck was that?” George demands.

“Something’s really wrong,” Julia says. “I’ve never seen Ivan act this way.”

“He seems to be calming down, thank goodness,” George says.

Julia shakes her head. “He’s still upset, Dad. Look at his eyes.”

My pictures are scattered all over the floor like huge autumn leaves.

“What a mess,” George says, sighing. “Wish I hadn’t bothered sweeping tonight.”

“Do you think Ivan’s okay?” Julia asks.

“Probably just a temper tantrum,” George says. He reaches under a chair to retrieve a brown and red picture. “Can’t say I blame the guy, stuck in that tiny cage all these years.”

Julia starts to answer, but then she freezes. She cocks her head.

She stares at her feet, where my pictures lie in disarray.

“Dad,” she whispers. “Come see this.”

“I’m sure he’s another Rembrandt,” George says. “Let’s pick these up and get going, Jules. I’m exhausted.”

“Dad,” she says again. “Seriously. Look at this.”

George follows her gaze. “I see blobs. Many, many blobs, along with the occasional swirl. Please, can we go home now?”

“That’s an H, Dad.” Julia kneels down, straightening one picture, then another. “That’s an H, and here”—she grabs more pictures—“put this one here, and, I don’t know, maybe that one. You have an E.”

George rubs his eyes. I hold my breath.

Julia is running now. She picks up one picture, sets down another. “It’s like a puzzle, Dad! This is something. It’s a word, maybe words. And a picture of something. A giant picture.”

“Jules,” George says, “this is crazy.” But he’s looking at the floor too, wandering from picture to picture and scratching his head.

“H,” Julia says. “E. O.”

“Hoe?”

Julia chews her lower lip. “H, E, O. And that looks a lot like an eye.”

“H, E, O, I.” George writes in the air with his finger. “I, E, O, H.”

“Not the letter. An actual eye. And that’s a foot. Or maybe a tree. And a trunk. Dad, I think that’s a trunk!”

Julia runs to my window. “Ivan,” she whispers, “what did you make?”

I stare back. I cross my arms.

This is taking much longer than I’d thought it would.

Humans.

Sometimes they make chimps look smart.

finally

Julia and George take the pictures to the ring, where there’s room to see them all.

An hour passes as they try to assemble my puzzle. Ruby’s awake now, and she and Bob and I watch.

“Ivan,” Ruby says, “is that a picture of me?”

“Yes,” I say proudly.

“Where am I supposed to be?”

“That’s a zoo, Ruby. See the walls and the grass and the people looking at you?”

Ruby squints. “Who are all those other elephants?”

“You haven’t met them,” I say. “Yet.”

“It’s a very nice zoo,” Ruby says with an approving nod.

Bob nudges me with his cold nose. “It is indeed.”

In the ring, Julia pumps her fist in the air. “Yes!” she cries. “I told you, Dad! There it is: H-O-M-E. Home.”

George gazes at the letters. He spins around to look at me. “Maybe it’s just a coincidence, Jules. You know, a once-in-a-trillion kind of thing, like that old saying about the chimp and the typewriter. Give him long enough and he’ll write a novel.”

I make a grumbling noise. As if a chimp could write a letter, let alone a book.

“Then how do you explain the rest of it?” Julia demands. “The picture of Ruby in the zoo?”

“How do you know it’s a zoo?” George asks.

“See the circle on the gate? There’s a red giraffe in it.”

George squints and tilts his head. “Are you sure that’s a giraffe? I was thinking more along the lines of a deformed cat.”

“It’s the logo for the zoo, Dad. It’s on all their signs. Explain that.”

George gives her a helpless smile. “I can’t. I can’t begin to. I’m just saying there has to be a logical explanation.”