01 Child Of The Rock

BIOGRAPHY of GULLEY JIMPSON by Prof S Ofer Draft TWO

jan 09

GULLEY DARWIN JIMPSON

01 Child of the Rock [Spring 1971 = Gulley is 18] Our prospects for a good flight become the hopeful promise when, lifting above the tarmac, we feel the wheels clunk into place. That is the first moment of relief, a moment to be savored. But by far the most exciting few seconds (and normally the most rewarding) are those lining up on the correct runway, and then cutting power to float down to the thump-squeak of all the tires at once. This announces the successful touchdown in a tail dragger and a good flight. Gulley was making these connections and thinking how many times his father must have experienced the relief of a successful touchdown. He could imagine his father thinking: Landing is never a ho-hum affair, no matter how many times you have done it. It was especially the approach to Gibraltar's North Front Airfield, tucked in behind Tariq's Jabal, known locally as the Rock, that caused his mind to run in this vein. His memories then drifted toward vivid images of the fur people, of playing and dickering with Snotnose, of grooming Threefingers, of so many scrapes and near disasters – and of the one who did fall. At this moment he thought of how often he had been so unbearably hungry, while more normally his recollections focused not upon the misery but upon the pleasant relationships with his adopted macaque family. He thought of how interesting and reliable was the character of each of the fur people, versus how undependable some of his human acquaintances seemed. Memory filled with images of a human tot, sometimes in diapers but often naked, squatting and leaping with the macaques. But these scenes are now sort of second hand. His memory has to serve them up rather like a movie of someone's birthday party, and not so much as immediate events anymore. What is never distant or second hand, however, is the memory of his mother's black bright eyes staring back at him so unlovingly, when he asked for something to eat. Like the macaques, he was always hungry. Had they not taught him how to forage, he thought he would have starved – in actuality, probably not. He recalled his mother foraging too, but she was looking for stubs, or a bottle amongst the litter on the living room floor. Gulley's strongest memory of his father is was a smell. They were together only a few times in his life. Now he remembered how he wished his father were there that last morning when he quietly maneuvered through the house from the rear door, trying to avoid the withering gaze of the black eyes. He need not have worried that time. He found those eyes but they were without glitter, half closed in a face looking up beyond the ceiling. They were part of a fearful expression of something only she could have seen. Her right leg was fallen from the couch and a trickle of blood had followed it partway, then dripped amidst the litter on the carpet before her heart stopped beating. Later he read that she had died from a massive hemorrhage, diverticular disease of the colon. No one bothered telling him. He had to read it in the pathologist's report, years later. Even though he never knew nor loved her, that image seemed unbearably sad to him. He offered an Hebraic prayer for her memory. Gulley had long realized that his fur people had stronger family ties than he himself enjoyed. Of course, he was naked while they wore fur and they were much stronger and more agile than himself. He was self 17750477.odt

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conscious enough (a human trait?) to understand that they too understood his disabilities as well as did he. But while they occasionally teased him over one failing or another, never did they withhold genuine acceptance. Perhaps, they even offered a sort of love? Being so starved for affection, he wanted to believe they did. One thing he excelled at and which the macaques clearly appreciated was his inventiveness. Clever as they were, the monkeys were unable to imagine circuitous solutions to problems. For instance, the monkeys were quite good at picking a latched screen when they could see the latch didrectly. But if they were confronted by a blind, they could not imagine the same latch being behind it, unseen. Gulley managed to open many treasures for them using his human imagination, and the monkeys offered him status in return. Gulley was seven when his mother died, and naturally her death was cause for intervention by the local authorities. But the Port Chaplin had quietly been watching Gulley's 'rearing' for some time. Indeed, the Chaplin and his wife were on the lookout to feed Gulley when ever he was accessible. The situation of both the mother and the child had not gone unnoticed. After all, this good priest had baptized Gulley over six and one half years before his mother's death. So, as news of the mother's death spread, the priest – actually now the Precentor of Holy Trinity Cathedral -- told police of the situation. The constabulary were happy to put Gulley into the Precentor's temporary care, and together the various institutional representatives charged with such responsibilities pondered what to do with the canny child. Everyone knew that an orphanage would likely be the outcome, but it is heartening that all the parties struggled to avoid that particular solution. ........

Peter Latham Hale, whom the congregation called Mr. Hale as opposed to Father, had been Precentor and Chaplin to the Port for about a year when Colonel Lady Qormi Jimpson died, but he had been serving the Cathedral longer than that. The Cathedral of the Holy Trinity in Gibraltar was the see church for the Anglican Diocese of Europe, amongst whose parishes he had variously served as rector and vicar for a dozen years. Gibraltar was a good post, and he got along well with his boss, Dean Worsely. Mr. Hale liked walking up the slight hill to Cathedral Square from the harbor, or from the Terminal. He felt it kept him trim, even though he was a small man and had never put on weight. A large part of the hilly neighborhood around the Cathedral (especially to the East) had become familiar to him through these walks by the time Lady died, and the gaunt wiry little figure of Gulley 'playing' in the trash cans and stealing items from open cars had long been impressed upon the map of his concern. [01 May 1960] But when the ambulance drew away with Gulley's dead mother, Mr. Hale knew that mere passive concern was no longer sufficient. Speaking with the local policeman, Mr. Hale made arrangements to bring Gulley to the police station for a conference on the lad's future. However, the priestly opinion was that this meeting should be delayed and the child taken home to his wife, Sarah, to see if she could clean Gulley up a bit. It was no simple task. With the absence of motherly love, Gulley had also enjoyed a total absence of rearing. It was not just a matter of learning to use a knife and fork. Gulley could remember taking only one bath – except when 17750477.odt

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playing with the macaques in filthy runoff water during rain storms. Perhaps, he had been defleaed by grooming monkey friends but that could hardly diminish the ripe smell of his filthy habits. That would be just a hint of his condition as Mr. Hale brought him home to Sarah. At first they had to restrain Gulley, literally, as they hosed him off in the garden. But after a couple of scrubbings each day the tanned soft leather of his natural skin began showing through its grimy carapace and Gulley gave in to the inevitable. Then there was defecation. Gulley showed a certain concern for his habits, as he tended to defecate in out-of-the way places – corners, under tables, and in the garden. At first Sarah retched at the awful smell of the garbage being passed. But by feeding him cereals and vegetables the smell too passed. And that then bothered Gulley. He had gained a fine sense of smell with the fur people and he could very well tell the difference in his own new odor. It was something he knew his friends would dislike. But before long he grew fond of his new aroma. It reminded him more of the way his father had smelled. For monkeys, a person is his smell. A bit later Mr. Hale was questioned again by the police chief about bringing Gulley to the station, but Mr. Hale still hesitated. He wanted to polish off the worst of Gulley's antisocial edges before presenting him. There could be little doubt that the first impression could well go against the child's future. Eating was a disaster. Dining was simply out of the question. Gulley hated forks and knives. Sarah finally pressed him to wield a spoon in his right hand, while most of the food on his plate was transported via the fingers of the left. But gradually Sarah prevailed, and she managed to even move the spoon out of Gulley's fist into the less death-like grip of his thumb and forefinger. Things were definitely improving. Even the art of using toilet paper was slowly being mastered. Dean Worsely had of course been kept informed of the little animal's progress, and Mr. Hale felt it would be good to present Gulley to a more friendly public setting before he had to face the stern gaze of the institutions. This first meeting was proposed to be over lunch in the Dean's garden. And amazingly, the Dean was quite happy with the progress measured by what Mr. Hale had related and what could be observed at that moment. Gulley drank every liquid offered him, took hand fulls of fruit from the centerpiece at every chance, and even stole a cucumber sandwich from Sarah's plate. It is to his credit that the Dean understood that these actions were improvements over the severe survival traits of the street, and he could well imagine how much those had been dampened. It was about half way through lunch, as everyone was enjoying a sigh of relief at how well it was all going, when one of the Dean's peacocks, not far off on the lawn, spread his rustling fan and called raucously to the hen of his choosing. Completely undone by that strident shriek, Gulley reverted to ways which had gained him acceptance amongst the apes. With the speed of light he dived from the table, took up a stone from the border on the little flower bed, and hurled it at the offending screecher. Wow! What a shot! It nearly took the peacock's head clean off. The bird immediately dropped dead among the beautiful feathers of his display. And of course, Gulley was darting off to gain his prize – except by that time Mr. Hale had come to life. Realizing what was likely to follow the toss, Mr. Hale showed amazing agility of his own as he leaped out to catch up the wiry little rock thrower before he could indulge more of his hard won animal traits. The Dean had jumped up aghast, throwing his chair backward to the flagstones. Napkin flapping freely through the loop of his pectoral cross, he gaped at the destruction visited so quickly upon the pride of his fleet of peafowl. He stared at the headless (nearly) peacock and then at the tiny brown-berry boy. Then back again. He could hardly believe he had witnessed such amazing accuracy. 17750477.odt

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Mr. Hale was equally wide eyed, wondering what the Dean would do. Then in a move as quick as Gulley's the Dean was upon Mr. Hale, wresting the little boy from his tight protective grip. There was no resisting the Dean's power once he was determined in his actions. Mr. Hale was horrified. What would he do? The Dean held Gulley out by his clamped little arms and looked fiercely at the tyke. The Dean then let out a howl and Mr. Hale was certain that he would dash the offending child down upon the paving stones – or worse – even as the boy had brained the peacock. Actually, that was Mr. Hale's overwrought imagination. The Dean's loud 'howl' was really an explosion of laughter. He then brought the startled child to his bosom, gave him a mighty hug, and said that was the shot of a lifetime. He had been blessed to witness such amazing marksmanship. [30 May 1960] A few days later, people were still nervous over the event -- relieved but nervous. The Bishop was away in London, so the Dean took the call from the Governor's secretary informing that the Governor had kept abreast of the monkey-child affair (there had been a bit of press in a few UK publications, but only snippets on back pages). The Governor had a solution in mind and would like to meet Gulley and speak with his keepers. Could a meeting be arranged? Yes, certainly, the Dean agreed. Would the Governor like to come around to the manse for tea? No, there would not be time for that then? It would be nice, the Dean was told, if he and the boy (along with his 'handlers', of course) could come to the Governor's Palace tomorrow for tea? It was arranged and Mr. Hale was sent immediately to tell Sarah to get the lad prepared. Also, the Dean felt it necessary to invite the Chief of Police, and the Chief felt obliged to contact the agency personnel, since they too had jurisdiction in this case. So, by the hour of tea time on the following day, a fairly large sortie was descending upon the Governor's tea terrace. The Governor's secretary was alarmed enough to warn the Governor of what was taking place – it was known that Governor Charlees became quite irritable if he felt he were losing control over a situation. Given advanced warning then, the eighteen or so souls seated around four tea tables on the terrace failed to tax this good man's sense of dominion upon making his appearance. Accompanying the Governor was a fattish man, short of stature, and his nicely rounded wife. The man reminded everyone of Edward G. Robinson, especially since he had a cigar in his mouth, and everyone liked him immediately. The Governor asked the fat man's wife to pour the tea while introductions were made. The fattish man's name was Moses Tannenbaum, one of the Sephardic diaspora whose presence was well known, highly respected, and still a force to be reckoned with in Gibraltar. He lived on the Rock but his work was based in Morocco. He was a tobacco dealer and traveled Britain and the US regularly. His specialty was Cuban cigars, but that outlet had been greatly threatened by the revolution the year before. Presently, he was working to strengthen ties with Sumatra and all the Dutch East Indies, but without giving an inch concerning his Cuban prospects. Still, it was the dawn of difficult times and he sensed this quite well. He and his wife had two boys aged 14 and 11, and a daughter aged 8, who had remained at home. Moses had been approached by the Governor (either that, or vice versa) about adopting the monkey boy. As Moses eyed the wild child (never losing the grip on his permanent smile), he was speculating how 17750477.odt

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much handling this venture would take. He was counting on his two boys to keep a tight reign on the wild child – that is, were they to agree on an adoption -- and Moses even felt that it might put a dent in these spoiled boys' arrogance while providing Moses with leverage with the Governor. So, Moses was not expecting a pushover. For one reason or another, everyone was eying Gulley intently, while Gulley paid them all very little attention. He was greatly concerned about the stuffed bird on a wire which darted back and forth over Mrs. Tannenbaum's arboreal hat. For her part, Mrs. Tannenbaum was flattered that Gulley seemed to be taking such an interest in her. The Governor asked the Dean to introduce Gulley to himself, whereupon the Dean nearly fainted. No one knew what Gulley might do when singled out that way, but everyone did feel that any response on Gulley's part would likely be quite inventive. Against his better judgment the Dean took Gulley by the and led him to where Sir Charles was seated. The Governor looked through unsmiling eyes at Gulley while Gulley never slaked his attention from the wobbling bird. Suddenly Sir Charles (not entirely without premeditation concerning the consequences) offered his hand to Gulley for shaking. Such an abrupt move did indeed attract Gulley's attention and he took a quick small step back. His immediate response was to bite the hand stuck into his face. But praise the Lord, Sarah's persistent training stepped in and Gulley held himself in check. Instead, he stared suspiciously and the hand and then at the one who foolishly offered it, and unconsciously moved a tiny bit behind the leg of the Dean. Given this advantage of some protection, Gulley went back to tracking the wobbling bird. Hee hee, the Dean wheezed: Gulley has obviously not come that far in his training, your Grace. But you can see what a quick little lad he is. Yes, Sir Charles thought to himself: This little trouble maker is just the ticket to take the wind out of the sales of that arrogant cigar peddler. He needs to be softened up and gotten in line for the looming postWar reorganization of the Island's administration. Come, Gulley, Sir Charles said. Let us introduce ourselves to Mr and Mrs Tannenbaum. Gulley had not a clue what the Governor was talking about, but Mrs Tannenbaum could not be more pleased with the attention she was garnering from the tyke. The Dean maneuvered Gulley around to stand in front of the Sephardi. Sensing something special in the air, Gulley took the chance to carefully look them both over – and just as carefully to smell them. Most animals might dislike the aroma of good cigars drifting up from Moses, but Gulley became immediately fond of it. Perhaps, he remembered it upon his father's person. Gulley thus walked up to the arm of Moses' tropical worsted sport coat and sniffed it. How quaint, everyone thought, but it is to their credit that they did understand, at least in part, what the gesture meant. Most importantly, they all felt that Gulley had accepted the presence of Moses, perhaps more than anyone there, except for Sarah. So, if the Tannenbaums were pleased, certainly the Dean and the Police Chief were pleased. And if they approved, then what could the rest of the functionaries say -- for some of them did indeed have questions. But then, what are functionaries for? Wonderful, Sir Charles smiled to himself. By the exercise of judicious control he was removing a very potential thorn from the saddle of the political camel which at that very moment was ambling steadily toward them. Who knows where this thing of the monkey boy might have gone? It had every potential to do great harm. And by the looks of the boy, Mr. Tannenbaum will have his hands so full around his own 17750477.odt

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home that he just might spend a greater share of his time in the Far East and out of the political embroilments on the Island. At least, it would give Sir Charles time to get his Sephardic ducks in a row. And Mrs. Tannenbaum beamed at the prospects of bringing this little creature under her motherly blanket – that, and also enrolling him into their Talmud Torah. For his part, Gulley could not have understood any of it, had anyone tried to explain. But far better than anyone else, he possessed a strong intuition about both of these new animals, and if he had to leave Sarah's warm glow, they should prove to be a good second choice. Sarah was crying now as she looked on, but her tears had already been wrapped amidst the items of the small kit she was bestowing upon Gulley. It was his only material inheritance. A Jerusalem cross was tucked down between the socks which she had never succeeded in getting Gulley to wear. Perhaps, the Sephardi would not be too offended? [30 May 1960]

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