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

Tags: #Circus Animals, #Juvenile Nonfiction, #Circus, #Animals, #Elephants, #Mammals, #Nature, #Performing Arts, #Modoc (Elephant), #General, #Wildlife, #Biography & Autobiography, #Essays, #Human-Animal Relationships

BOOK: Ralph Helfer
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“If it ’ad just been a story, we would ’ave ’eard by now,” added Curpo. “Not a word ’as come down.”

“Maybe the post couldn’t get through,” suggested Heinz, but Josef knew that last month’s mail had just been picked up.

“No news is…well…no news,” added Karl. He laughed at his own mockery of the seriousness of the situation, while the others looked on with less levity.

Katrina arrived at the barn, the roustabouts close behind, helping her with the hot, heavy kettle. Hissing steam escaped the pot’s lid into the air. The delicious aroma filled the barn and everybody grabbed whatever was handy to dip into the pot of savory soup. Other foods that had been prepared were passed around. Appelle lit a small fire in the middle of the dirt floor and together with his chimpanzees, roasted chestnuts. These were passed around with Lilith’s fraupotatoes, beefsteak, some sweet corn. Hot coffee rounded out the meal. Katrina’s rich cookies were dessert.

This particular evening Modoc decided to retire early, lying right in the middle of the barn’s activity. As her tonnage slowly settled to the ground, everybody moved quickly, pulling chairs, sleeping bags, and cots out of the way. Bram found an old pillow and nestled against her head. The livestock scattered throughout the barn, some resting against Heinz’s bear Karno, and others with Tina and Emma. One of Appelle’s chimps fell in love with a rooster who loved to pick at the chimp’s back. It must have felt good, as the chimp would lie there for hours while the bird walked up and down its back, picking and scratching.

The recesses of the barn echoed with the old-timers’ tales of the circus as it used to be, of the thrills and excitement when the people crowded into the big top to see the Mighty Samson defeat Ackavar, the Fighting Bull, or watch Persaavich, the greatest aerialist who ever lived, perform his dangerous routine without a net. In the middle of Josef’s story of how, ten years back, the circus had survived a fire, a fight broke out between String’s pet performing goat and a farmyard pig. Nothing serious. Both wanted to lie by Modoc. Both wanted exactly the same spot. They had plenty of space, but they wanted that same spot. The cooking fire burned low as, one by one, people and animals alike drifted off to sleep.

 

“Slip is gone.”

“What—Slip? I don’t know any Slip,” muttered Lilith, trying to roll her bulk over, half asleep.

“Slip, my python. He’s missing,” said Mesmera.

“Mm, well, tomorrow—we’ll—WHAATT!” Six hundred pounds of anything never moved as quickly as did Lilith. “Where! Where is she?” she cried.

“It’s a he, and if I knew I wouldn’t have asked you. God, you don’t have to wake up the whole place, you know.”

By now everybody in the barn was alerted to the fact that Mesmera’s fifteen-foot python was missing. Half the people retreated outside into the freezing snow rather than confront the serpent. The other half tore up the barn, searching every nook and
cranny. Slip was finally found wrapped comfortably among Moonspirit’s multitude of satin and velvet pillows. Once Slip was safely put away under Mesmera’s care, the frozen little group came back inside the barn. They huddled around the cook stove, shivering, shaking, and saying bad things.

“Stupid snake,” grumbled String.

“Slimy worm,” added Lilith.

“Freak,” said Little Marigold.

That did it. Hysterical laughter broke out from everywhere.

“Good night, everybody!”

Bram couldn’t sleep. He nudged Curpo to keep a sleepy eye on Mo and buttoning up his jacket, stepped out into the clear white night. He was worried. His father didn’t look well at all. The somber mood of the circus family, all concerned whether there would be a circus to return to, depressed him. And above all, what about Modoc? What would he do without her? Cold mist of the night air escaped his mouth as he sighed deeply.

Bram’s belief in nature being the Supreme Entity gave him a feeling of inner strength as he looked up. He felt a kinship with the stars, and even with the desolate countryside around him. He closed his eyes, took a moment to think only good thoughts, then turned to rejoin his friends. As he opened the barn door, a flash of light caught his eye. A car was braving the cold winter elements, slipping and sliding up the road. As it came to a stop down below, at his driveway, Bram saw a figure emerge and wave goodbye to the driver. The car managed a U-turn and headed back in the other direction. A moment of terror overcame Bram. Was this the messenger on his way to tell them about the circus? Had it been sold? The person, too far away to identify, was in a hurry, occasionally tumbling in the deep snow as it headed toward the barn. The figure wore a large winter overcoat and was bundled up to keep out the chill. Bram waited at the top of the road, and as the figure drew closer, he felt he knew this person. Could it be? Nein, but…it looked…Bram was muttering to himself.

“Gertie…” Bram half-whispered. “Gertie! Is that you?”

“Bram! Bram!” Her voice rang out as clearly as a crystal bell.

Cold happy tears ran down his cheeks as he raced down the hill, slipping and sliding until they collided, tumbling over into the snow several times, each holding the other until they wound up in a soft embankment of snow. For this brief moment, life was perfection. Hidden beneath layers of their parkas’ high collars and their scarves, their faces merged. It was warm inside as they explored each other with steamy kisses and touches. Cold noses, warm cheeks, and eager mouths found kin. Bram had never been so happy to see anyone as he was to see Gertie. Arm in arm they joined the others, but for some reason, it just didn’t seem as cold as it had been before.

 

Josef was sick. The doctor’s car was parked by the farmhouse. Bram had seen it before, whenever his father’s ulcers and coughing spells acted up—these days it was every few months. In the beginning the medicine had taken care of the problem and his father would be up and about within a couple of days. Since summer, however, his condition had worsened, and the prescriptions seemed to have little or no effect. Doctors had been baffled by his illness. They understood his ulcers and felt the reason he had them was his concern for the elephants and the circus. The cough, however, was a mystery. Tuberculosis was ruled out. Some thought it was consumption. The doctors couldn’t understand why the ulcers were affected by his deep coughing. Bram was worried about his father, knowing Josef was not a complainer. If the doctors were there, it must be bad.

Bram put Modoc up in the barn and entered the house as Dr. Kreiss and his mother came downstairs. The doctor told Katrina to keep Josef in bed and to make certain he took his medicine.

“Is Papa going to be all right?” asked Bram, seeing the moisture glistening in the corners of his mother’s bright eyes.

“For now, son, for now,” she said, and went back upstairs.

 

“Move up, Mo!”

Bram took Mo out for a walk. She’d been in the barn for over
ten days, waiting for a big storm to pass. The last couple of days had been warmer and today the sun shone brightly and the day was clear, as if it were summer. The snow was melted around the barn, except for the shaded areas to the north. Bram rode atop Modoc.

“No use both of us getting our feet wet,” he rationalized to Mo. He was careful not to walk her in the slippery patches and stuck to the walkways everybody had been using. There the grass grew through patches of snow and allowed Mo’s big feet some traction.

It was early Saturday morning and all were still sleeping. Mo found some frozen grass peeking from under a little snow, and she ripped it up, smacking it against her leg to remove the ice. The rattle of tire chains broke the stillness as a small truck traveled down the roadway, heading straight for them. Bram’s heart skipped a beat. It was the mail truck. Why now? This wasn’t mail time. It usually wasn’t delivered until after two.

Bram saw a sign on the truck that read
SPECIAL DELIVERY.
The postman carefully slowed the vehicle to a stop on the icy road so the wheels wouldn’t skid. He stuck his head out the window.

“I have a letter for Herr Gunterstein.”

“Right here,” Bram said. “I’ll take it.”

To the postman’s surprise, the letter was handed up by Modoc’s trunk, signed for by Bram, and the receipt was returned to the postman.

Bram put the letter down between Mo’s shoulder bones, studying it for some time, wondering at its contents. It’s during these times, he mused, we try to change what we believe is about to happen. Bram used his imagination to alter what he thought was in the letter. It was to no avail. Down deep, he knew what it said. A tearing feeling cut through his stomach: Modoc. Slowly turning the envelope around, he sought the name of the writer. It was from Herr Gobel to Herr Josef Gunterstein. A cool breeze from the north made Modoc shiver. Bram felt the vibrations coursing through her body, causing a shiver in him as though they were one. He slid the letter inside his shirt.

“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.

T
RUCKS, 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 stu
dent 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

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