Angel Of Mercy

Chapter 8

Maurice saw young Mary cleaning up after that morning's class as he arrived. The poor child looked very harassed. Instantly, the Orangutan knew what must have happened. He had been through it before, many times.

"You're right," Mary told him. "They can be a handful."

"I did try and warn you," he advised gravely.

Maurice smiled indulgently at the young Ape girl and began to help her pick up scattered materials.

"The new has finally worn off for them, has it?" he teased her fondly.

"I guess so," Mary sighed.

When they had put the school area in order, Maurice put a comforting hand on Mary's shoulder.

"It happens to me, too. Probably more than you, I imagine. Don't take it too hard. You have good days and then you have bad ones," he mused philosophically.

Mary started to smile at him, but it faltered as she looked at the older Orangutan more closely.

"Are you having bad days then, Uncle," she murmured, her eyes troubled.

Gazing down at her, Maurice ruffled her fur.

'Now what would make you say that?" he signed, trying to phrase it as lightly as he could manage.

"I'm not blind, Uncle. You've just looked so ... sad and far away sometimes," Mary told him. "Mostly when you don't think anyone is watching. What's making you so sad? Can I help?"

Precious child, Maurice thought.

He put his arms about the girl and hugged her close. She tolerated this for a minute, then squirmed out of his gentle grip.

Mary put her hands on her hips in a gesture that always reminded Maurice of some human women he used to see around the circus. It even reminded him a little of Karin when she was feeling her most ferocious. He watched as she fixed him with a stare that, while not nearly as cold or hard as her Father's, held more than a hint of Koba's steel in its depths.

"That's not an answer, Uncle," Koba's daughter said in that blunt way she had when the adults were ignoring her questions.

"Sometimes, little one, there are no easy answers," Maurice told her.

"Why not," she demanded. "It was a simple enough question, wasn't it? What's making you so sad?"

"When you become an adult, little one, you'll understand that there are no easy answers and even fewer truly simple questions," Maurice advised the child.

Mary the stubborn, Maurice mused.

She was not deterred.

"They're starting to talk about you, Uncle," Mary went on more earnestly, leaning in to him and dropping her voice. Mary, unlike most apes, almost always spoke out loud even when she signed.

"Who is talking about me, Mary," Maurice signed, concerned not so much about the talk but by how honestly upset Mary seemed by it.

"Most of the kids, and some of the older females, too. There saying—"

Maurice watched in amazement as, for the first time since she learned to communicate, Mary stopped talking out loud and signed her next words in total silence. Maurice knew that it must be serious.

"They're saying you've got a female somewhere that you visit every night. Is it true, Uncle? Why don't you just bring her to the village?"

Maurice was staggered by the child's statement. He stared down at Mary, honestly not knowing what to say to that at all.