Modoc: The True Story of the Greatest Elephant That Ever Lived Page 6

  “Let’s go home, Mo.”

  Josef sat in the living room, in his favorite chair. The room was dark except for the single light shining from within a worn brown paper lampshade. Katrina sat on the floor at his side. Curpo and Bram sat cross-legged on the floor across the room, backs against the wall. Slipping on his reading glasses, Josef read the letter aloud. His voice resounded, echoing monotonously.

  Dear Herr Gunterstein:

  Due to my poor health, the strain of operating the circus has become too much. My doctor has advised me to leave for a warmer climate. Therefore, I wish to inform you that I will be selling the circus.

  Thank you for your years of faithfulness and dedication. Please see that all your personal belongings are removed from the circus location by this same day, next month, as all animals, equipment and vehicles are being offered for sale immediately.

  Sincerely,

  Franz Gobel

  Josef settled deeply back into the shaded recesses of his chair. The letter dropped from his hand to the floor as Katrina pressed the back of his hand against her wet cheek. Bram nodded to Curpo and they left quietly.

  It seemed an aura of death was present. A man’s hopes had just died.

  8

  TRUCKS, SKIPLOADERS, AND ROUSTABOUTS were busy moving circus equipment and paraphernalia off the Gunterstein farm. When the big elephant truck drove up to load Modoc, Bram was there. No one knew he had cried most of the night. His father, sensing Bram’s grief, had come and sat on the bed beside Bram.

  “Son, I know you are feeling many things because Modoc is leaving. It is difficult to let go of something that you love so much.”

  Bram looked at his father. He seemed old, but there was a wisdom in his voice that Bram had not heard before.

  “Papa, I will miss her so much. I don’t know what I will do without her. We’ve always been together—always, and now…” His voice trailed off. His eyes began to fill.

  “Bram,” his father said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “You and I know there is a connection to all living things. It is the connection of life that holds us together. That living bond is so strong it can never be broken.” Josef smiled at his son. “Modoc does not have to be next to you to feel close. When you are asleep in this room, she is elsewhere, yet your closeness has not dimmed. It is not distance that separates, Bram, it is the mind and heart. Let her go, son. Only then will peace come to you,” Josef sagely advised.

  Let Mosie go? How does one do that? thought Bram. Try to think of other things? Impossible!

  Josef, Bram, and Curpo drove Modoc to the circus grounds. It was a quiet drive, and except for Josef’s occasional cough or grimace, no one spoke. The spring flowers popping all over and green leaves sprouting on the trees went unnoticed. The skies were overcast when they arrived. Modoc was unloaded and placed alongside Emma and the other elephants.

  The spirit of the circus had been broken. By early evening everything was tagged with a serial number. Vehicles were lined up in a row, animals housed in the menagerie tent, and costumes hung in the laundry tent. Buyers were to arrive the next morning to start bidding for whatever interested them. Everybody noticed old man Gobel was not there.

  That night Bram and Curpo planned to sleep in the menagerie tent. Josef wanted to stay as well, but his cough was so bad that his friends convinced him to return home.

  Evening found the animal trainers and sideshow performers gathered in the menagerie tent. They came together for comfort and hope. Throughout the night they talked. Some cried at the injustice of it. Appelle sat with his chimps cuddled up against him. They, too, sensed the problem. Karl, the Seal Man, sat holding Little Marigold on his lap.

  “Maybe whoever buys the circus will take us all, and we can stay together like we’ve always been,” Little Marigold offered hopefully.

  “How can this happen? Why? It’s been my whole life.” Lilith sat on one of the hay bales, her enormous body completely covering the hundred-and-fifty-pound bale.

  “I don’t know where to go, how to earn money,” said another. “Anyway, who would have me?”

  “I heard the government has an invalid program that would—”

  “A what! An invalid program? I’m not an invalid; I’m not like Marigold or Karl.” Lilith shot a look at them. “Sorry kids, but it’s true. I’ve got all my equipment.”

  “But nobody can find it,” came a voice from the dark.

  “All right, wise ass, who said that?”

  “Look,” Curpo interjected, “this is no time for us to fight among ourselves.”

  Bram stood. “There’s nothing we can do until we know what will happen tomorrow. Then decisions will have to be made.”

  “But Bram, what about Modoc? What are you going to do?” String’s voice was soft and sympathetic. In the soft glow of the circus tent’s lighting, Bram’s face took on the appearance of that of a much older person, perhaps even the face of his father.

  “Nobody can separate something that’s inseparable,” Bram replied. Everyone was momentarily quiet. “Nobody.”

  In the morning the buyers began to arrive. Each drove a shiny black sedan that was parked in a designated row. German, Japanese, and American buyers with all-knowing and condescending attitudes presented themselves at the sale. Bram and Curpo had put the elephants out on their tethers as instructed by Herman, a little man in a wrinkled brown suit who claimed to represent the Gobel family. As the potential owners inspected the circus’s assets, a whirl of dust caught their eyes. A screeching of brakes was heard at the far end of the circus as a huge Duesenberg limousine pulled onto the grounds. Instead of parking with the others, it drove directly to the entrance of the big top.

  The limousine door opened, and before the chauffeur could get around to tend to it, out stepped a well-dressed man, his dark hair slicked back, a bit silver at the temples. He wore a pinstriped suit, red tie, and white and black buck shoes, and carried with him an attitude of conceit. He and three assistants walked directly into Gobel’s office. Soon Herman, the gentleman, and his entourage returned. They strolled around the grounds, discussing various items for sale, assessing others. Many buyers came by to greet the gentleman and kibitz about the auction. Bram saw that they were coming his way. Curpo nudged him, giving him a “you can do it” look, and promptly disappeared.

  “This is the son of the elephant trainer. Ah…what is your name, boy?” snapped Herman.

  “Bram, sir, Bram Gunterstein.”

  “Yes, well, you can show Mr. North what the beasts can do.”

  Bram looked past Herman to Mr. North. “My father usually works them, sir, but he’s sick, you see…”

  “Get on with it, boy. Mr. North doesn’t have a lot of time.” Bram noticed that Mr. North would barely look at him. “My father…” Bram began.

  “Enough of your father!” Herman interrupted impatiently. His voice had risen a full octave. “Now you will please show Mr. North what they do.”

  Bram continued to look at Mr. North, trying to establish some communication, but to no avail. He couldn’t understand why the man wouldn’t at least acknowledge him.

  Resigned, he put Modoc and the other elephants through the act his father had taught him. Bram wondered for a moment whether he should have tried to make them perform badly. Perhaps if this man didn’t like what he saw, he wouldn’t take Modoc. But even if he wanted to, it would have been difficult, as Modoc knew her routine too well, and she executed it perfectly. After the performance, Mr. North managed a curt thank you over his shoulder.

  Bram saw the men exchange handshakes. Mr. North, waving to all the other bidders, returned to his limousine and drove away. In short order the other bidders followed suit, and when they had all left, Herman called the circus family together.

  “Now then,” Herman began, almost smugly, “it gives me much pleasure to announce that the world-famous circus entrepreneur Jack C. North will be acquiring the circus. I am sure you all agree that Herr Gobel will be very happy to know that
it will not be broken up.”

  “But what about us?” asked Stretch. “Will he take us with him?”

  “Hmmm, well, will he take you with him?” repeated Herman, as if it were no secret. “No, no, no! He is taking the circus to the United States of America and has plenty of frea—…ah…performers…of his own. He just needs the animals and the equipment.”

  A voice in the crowd spoke up. “How can you say that he bought the whole circus? We are the circus—we and the animals. How can you give our animals to other people to train? They’ve been with us since their birth, and we love them as our own.”

  “What will become of us?” another voice said. “There’s no work for our kind of people!”

  The tone of the group now became almost threatening. Herman was clearly becoming nervous. “Yes, well now, all of you must go home. In the morning other trainers will arrive to learn the animals’ routines.”

  The crowd broke up, each going his own way. Bram was dumbstruck. “How can this be, Curpo? They can’t just take it all away! There must be something that can be done for us to stay together—and how about Modoc!” His mind reached out for an answer. He would stay the night with Mo, sending Curpo back to the farm to tell his parents what had taken place. “You’d better tell Mutte first, she may want to tell Papa herself.”

  Bram wanted to be there in the morning to meet the new trainer and see if there was any way he could convince him to let Bram accompany Modoc to America.

  Bram felt someone waking him from a deep sleep.

  “Hey! You! Wake up!”

  He opened his eyes to see a burly middle-aged man bending over him. The man nudged Bram with a bull hook.

  “Who are you?” asked Bram sleepily.

  “Jake.” A note of pride in the man’s voice: “Mr. North’s head elephant trainer. Now you’d better move on. I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

  Bram stood up. “Uh, you don’t understand. You see, my father is the elephant trainer for the circus.”

  “You mean, he was the trainer. Now it’s my job.”

  “But…I’m his son…and I also work the elephants. Especially Modoc.”

  “Mo who?”

  “Modoc, this one here.”

  “Hmmm, well, we can change that name real quick. Look, kid, I know you like elephants, but I’ve got to get going.”

  “But I can show you her cues,” Bram protested. “Wouldn’t it be a lot better for you and easier on her?”

  “If you want to hang around a bit, I guess it’s okay. Maybe I’ll ask you some questions—maybe I won’t. Just stay out of my way.”

  Bram agreed. He figured it would give him some time to come up with something so he could stay with Mo.

  One day Bram overheard the new circus crew saying they’d be leaving at the first sign of spring. The new owner had hired a large Indian vessel, The Ghanjee, to take the animals and equipment to New York via India.

  Bram hadn’t been home since the sale. He was worried about his father and planned on having Curpo take care of the elephants in the morning so he could see his parents. Josef lay quietly in his upstairs bedroom. The doctor had given him a sedative to ease the cough. Bram sat on the edge of the bed. His father appeared to be asleep. Beads of sweat blanketed his forehead, and he looked drawn and exhausted. Bram examined the room in which he had been conceived, noticing as if for the first time the dark, drab colors. The walls were dark yellow, which somehow blended with the old gray lace lampshades and beet red upholstery, now well worn. The only light came from the two small reading lamps on either side of the bed. Their pale light merely added to the dreariness of the room, giving it no cheer at all, and giving the shadows more authority. This was not a room for living in, but rather a place to unload sorrow and depression that had formed throughout the day. Sleep was important here, but only from need, not desire.

  Josef was one who always took his worries away with him. He carried them along, hidden inside with his hopes and despairs every day of his life, locking them away. He told his problems only to his elephants. They did not judge him and he loved them dearly for that. They were large enough to hide his fears and pain, and there the feelings had stayed until now. Old man Gobel had taken away his blanket of security. He was now exposed. His worries had become his Grim Reaper, ready to take him away when the burden became too great.

  Josef raised Bram as he had the elephants, with love and respect. Although their life had been a poor one financially, the love for the animals and each other sustained them through the years. What would they do without the animals? His father’s eyes blinked open. A smile crossed his face.

  “Hey, how is my Bramie?”

  Whenever his father felt very loving, he called him his Bramie. Bram took his hand. It was warm and gentle, and yet the strength of years and struggle could be felt.

  “I’m good. How are you feeling, Papa?” Josef closed his eyes and rolled his head on the pillow. “Ah, probably not so good. The doctor says if I’d stop worrying I’d get better, but how do I do that? I have bills, I have the farm, clothes to buy, food to purchase, trucks to maintain. I sometimes feel each part of my body needs my personal attention to run and function. I’m tired of being the leader, Bram.” He held his son’s hand firmly and looked deeply into Bram’s face. “It’s you who must now be the man.” He continued, “I know you’re young, but you’re not alone, and you have the blood of your father and your wonderful mother. And you have Modoc.” His lips cracked into a smile. “My father said, ‘Let your problems be your teachers’—you are a far better student than I have been.” He hesitated for a moment, as though afraid to ask the next question. “Is…Mo…okay?”

  “Yes, Papa, she’s fine.”

  “Is there someone else handling her?”

  “No, Papa,” Bram lied, “they’re letting me. Only me.”

  Josef smiled. “You never lied very good.”

  His chuckle turned into a slight cough that quickly built into an explosive, throat-wrenching attack. Finally the cough subsided. Father and son talked of many things, all mundane, avoiding the more important issues. When they finished, Bram leaned over to kiss his father good night. Josef wrapped his arms around Bram and held him close. He was trembling, and his tears wet Bram’s cheek. Josef’s voice was that of an older man than was lying in the bed.

  “You are special, Bram. You and Modoc. You were both born on the same day, at the same hour—for a reason; you and she are connected for that. You must take care of Mo, Bramie,” he whispered. “Promise me, you will. She loves you and you her. Together you will find a way.”

  “I will, Papa, I will.”

  Bram left the room. He didn’t…he couldn’t look at his mother. He ran to the barn, closed the door, and cried. He cried for his father, cried for Mo, and cried for his own unhappiness

  9

  WHEN BRAM ARRIVED at the circus grounds it looked as though a tornado had come during the middle of the night and taken it away. All the circus equipment had been packed in big cargo crates, stamped across the front in ten-inch red letters: DESTINATION U.S.A. The big top had been taken down and packed, most of the vehicles had been sold, and the calliope was being readied for shipment. The fairways had been dismantled and lay on the ground, ready for packing. Only the menagerie tent still stood. Jake was repairing an elephant harness when Bram walked up.

  “Morning, Jake, how’s Mo this morning?”

  “Hi, kid. Jumbo is fine. Look for yourself.”

  “Jumbo?”

  “Yeah. That’s her new name. Better for advertising.”

  “But won’t it confuse her, having two names?”

  “She doesn’t have two names,” Jake answered irritably, “and don’t let me catch you using Mo or any other name anymore. You hear me, kid?”

  “Sure, Jake, I hear you.”

  Mo was nibbling her hay when Bram entered the tent. She gave him a low rumble of affection and a hug with her trunk. Bram grabbed an ear and, pulling it down, whispered, “Hi, Mo
sie.”

  Spring was fast approaching. The melting snow had filled the rivers, days were becoming warmer, and beautiful flowers filled the hills and valleys. It was on such a day that a car, horn honking, sped into the circus grounds and headed straight to the menagerie tent. Curpo sat next to the driver. Both jumped out of the car and approached Bram. After talking a minute, the three quickly got in the car. With a cloud of dust kicking up behind it, the car raced out of town to the Gunterstein farm. Josef had taken a turn for the worse.

  The spring sun cleared the ridge as the procession slowly wound its way up the dirt road to Grenchin Hill Cemetery. It was named after Mr. Meister’s daughter, who had lost her life falling from her horse on the very spot where the cemetery was located. She was the only one buried there until Meister died. Since then, a few had chosen this lovely spot to sleep their longest sleep. It overlooked miles of rolling green hills that eventually melted into the great mountains to the north. Grenchin Hill itself was quite steep, and the graveyard had room for only a few dozen. Josef had known the family since childhood, and when Meister died, he left two sites for Josef.

  On a nearby hill, silhouetted against the sky, Bram and Gertie sat atop Modoc. They looked unrelated to what was happening down below, as if they were from another time. The trio watched the serpentine line of cars make its way up the hill. Some of Josef’s friends came in trucks, others arrived in family cars. A nearby neighbor drove his tractor directly from the plowing field. Bram pointed out the Tall Man, the Seal Man, Little Marigold, the Fat Lady, and the rest. They’d all arrived by one means or another. Curpo and some of the roustabouts—unbeknownst to the new circus owner—had loaded the calliope on a flatbed truck and drove it to the cemetery, parking it near the gravesite. It was the best way they knew how to say their goodbyes. When the last car neared the crest, Bram nudged Mo and headed for the cemetery.