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Diary of Ruby Cardini, dated June 5, 1974

We had a big scare last night – we almost lost Smithy!

In the wee hours of the morning, around 3:00, all of us were jolted awake by loud, pealing bells and a blaring horn.  I was disoriented—still not quite familiar with my surroundings and unsure of where I was.  For a minute or two, I thought I was at school, about to be late for my next class. Then I focused on the siren and thought, “Oh, God, the Russians have done it! We’re all going to die and I’m here, over 200 miles from home.  I’ll never have a chance to see my family again, or make it up with Dad!”  I was shaking so badly that I could hardly get out of bed, but I slipped on my sneakers without socks and staggered into the hall to face my fate.

Immediately, I was glad of the dorm-style living arrangements.  I saw Tammy’s light on.  At least one of us was smart enough to try the electricity.  She and Gail were emerging into the hall just as I was. Just seeing them was a comfort.

“What’s happening? What’s that noise? Are we under attack?” We screamed questions at each other, and though we couldn’t quite hear each other over the din, I could tell we were all asking the same thing.  Tammy went down the hall to Wanda’s room, but it was empty, save for Peter and Harriet, who burst out, yowling, and ran away down the stairs before Gail and I could catch them.  We had no idea what danger they were running into, nor where Wanda could have gone. What a time for us to be without authority!

Finally, a door at the end of the hall opened and Piers and Wanda came out (?!)  Piers was agitated, but I could see he was more annoyed than afraid and that gave me hope.  He explained to us the fire alarm had been tripped.  I was surprised that such an old house would have anything so modern, but Wanda later explained the alarm was installed when the house served as a boarding school.  Thank goodness it was still connected!  

My relief that the world wasn’t ending gave way to a new wave of fear as I wondered, Where could the fire possibly be?  Trevor Hall is a huge house with two wings.  A blaze could have broken out anywhere. How would we know it?  

By then, we had been joined by Eric and even Jeff, who said he was transcribing our orientation film when he heard the alarm all the way from the gatehouse.  (I guess he really is a night owl.)  Gail asked if we needed to evacuate, but Piers told her to keep her head.  “It’s an old system with old wiring.  Chances are the alarm was tripped accidentally and we’re in no danger.”  He took a flashlight down to the basement to examine the breakers.  Tammy suggested we take a quick walk-through of our floor, just to make sure there was no smoke.  

In our fear for ourselves, we momentarily forgot our reason for being in the house in the first place: Smithy!  Only Jeff had the presence of mind to think of him.  “I’ll go check on him.  He’s probably going bananas—no pun intended—with all of this racket and being all by himself upstairs.” I don’t know why, but I felt better hearing him joke like that.  It was one more step toward normality and a release of tension from our rude awakening.

No sooner had Jeff disappeared upstairs than the honking and clattering ceased. We cheered, temporarily breaking the silence we were celebrating. “It’s all better,” called Piers, his voice faint from the lower level.  “I think a circuit must have tripped. The stove is off in the kitchen.  I can’t detect any smoke.”  

Our relief was too short-lived, however, because even as Piers was reassuring us, Jeff began screaming for help.

“He’s not breathing!  Hurry!  Hurry, Piers!  Somebody call an ambulance!”

We ran up to Smithy’s room, almost tripping over each other.  Piers pushed his way into the lead, nearly knocking me over the banister. I can’t be too cross with him though; his face looked as if it were carved from marble.  He must have been so frightened for Smithy—and maybe a little fear for his experiment was mixed in.  

We formed an anxious crowd outside Smithy’s door.  Poor Smithy was lying in Jeff’s arms on the floor.  His face was purple and his eyes were black as buttons and just as dull.  Jeff kept shaking him as if to wake him.  “He was lying face-down on the floor,” Jeff told us, “right below that.”

At first I couldn’t see what Jeff was pointing to, but when Wanda exclaimed, “You mean he set it off!” I realized he was indicating a button on the wall, about the height of a man.  It looked like an old call bell for servants, but it slowly dawned on me that this button was connected to the fire alarm.  Jeff was telling us that Smithy had somehow known to call for help with that bell.  I marveled he had even been able to reach it in his distress, but my awe was fleeting.  Later, much later, over coffee, eggs and bacon, we praised Smithy’s foresight, ingenuity, and sense of self-preservation, but at that terrible moment, I was still terrified that Smithy was dead.

“Does anybody know CPR?  Besides me?” Eric asked.  Gail and I didn’t—and neither did Piers or Wanda.  Tammy had read up on life-saving techniques, what with all the baby-sitting she’s had to do, but said she had never actually practiced them.  Since Eric seemed to be the most experienced, he went to work on Smithy.  I think he was nervous about doing so; maybe he was afraid of making a mistake or scared we might blame him if he couldn’t save Smithy after all, but I admire him for his willingness to try anyway.

Jeff tilted Smithy’s head up so he would be able to breathe.  Tammy called advice from the sidelines.  “Swab his mouth out so he doesn’t swallow his tongue.  He could have had a seizure, you know.”  

“It looks to me like he choked,” Eric said, but he followed Tammy’s advice and pounded on Smithy’s back, bending him forward.  Our little chimp looked like a rag doll flopping around.  It was terrible!  I felt so helpless. I wanted to do something, anything, to help Eric and Smithy, but I hadn’t a clue.  

Gail was crying, and I thought I had better get her out of the room before she made a scene or made Smithy’s rescuers nervous.  She didn’t want to budge at first, but then we heard sirens.  The fire alarm must have been connected to a fire station, or maybe the neighbors could hear the alarm like Jeff did and called for help.

I said, “We should let them in.  Firemen know life-saving techniques.”  We had just turned to leave when an awful gargling made me look back.  Eric was squeezing Smithy’s chest.  It looked to me like he was trying to crush him, but it had the opposite effect of starting his breathing again!  Smithy twitched, gagged, and finally spat out something hard.  It bounced and rolled across the floor, and Piers picked it up.

I forgot all about the firemen and watched Smithy slowly come back to life.  His face gradually faded to violet, then red, and the pink of a bawling child.  And like a child, Smithy began to emit howling sobs.  Jeff looked like he was crying too as he hugged Smithy and tried to comfort him.  Gail ran over to hug Eric, shouting that he was a hero.  For a moment, we all hugged and cried and rejoiced.

“But what made him collapse?” Wanda asked.  

“It was this.” Piers held up a tiny wooden ball.  At first, none of us had any idea what it was or where it had come from, and we looked at one another with accusing eyes, as if one of our number had irresponsibly given Smithy a forbidden toy or deliberately tried to kill him.  Wanda scanned the room and finally identified the ball as a knob from Smithy’s chest of drawers.  Was it loose?  Did he get hungry during the night and bite it off, thinking it was food?  

We couldn’t spend time trying to answer these questions because the firemen were pounding on the front door, ready to break it down.

 They didn’t realize Trevor Hall had tenants.  I think they saw the lights in the house and heard the animals howling and assumed we were squatters up to no good.  I can’t imagine what they thought when we finally opened the doors and revealed a gaggle of frightened co-eds and one very shaken chimpanzee. Wanda explained we’d had a false alarm in terms of a fire, but that we really did have an emergency.  Sure enough, the firemen had first aid training and checked over Smithy.  He seemed so startled and overwhelmed by the excitement that he passively let the lead firefighter examine him for wounds and take his pulse. They gave him a clean bill of health. We even got a cute picture of Smithy wearing a fire helmet.  

We invited the firemen to stay and have refreshments with us. Piers tried to explain to them about the study over coffee, but he was so technical that Jeff had to interrupt every so often to translate into layman’s terms.  At least now they know a chimp has moved into Trevor Hall and they’ll be prepared in case of a future emergency (of which I hope we have none!)  

Jeff has taken all the knob handles off Smithy’s furniture. From now on, we’ll pull on the sides of the drawers to open them.  Jeff also volunteered to sleep in Smithy’s room for the next few nights to avoid a repeat of this frantic nightmare.  It was more excitement than any of us had bargained for, but definitely something to write home about.    

Next Chapter: Excerpt of Letter from Gail Ehrlich to Ehrlich Family, dated June 19, 1974: