by Ralph Helfer
“Curpo! You’ve got tears in your eyes.”
“Where’d ya expect them to be? Besides, they’re small ones, don’t you think?” Curpo smiled faintly.
“Curpo, I’ll never forget all you’ve done, for me and for my family. I just wanted to say…” He couldn’t finish, all he could say was “Bye, Curpo!”
“Bye, Bram—you take care, you ’ear?”
He dropped low, ducking into the shadows as he left the car. The thought of Modoc strengthened his determination to succeed as the truck with the flag suddenly appeared in front of him.
The coast was clear. Bram made a dash for it. A quick toss of his gear and a jump, and he was riding on the tailgate. Then up and over, and he found himself lying on some sacks of equipment and supplies. Collecting his bag, he scuttled to the back of the truck and nestled down behind some crates.
It was pitch dark inside the truck. Through a crack in the wooden side panels, he saw car headlights flick on and off a few times—signaling everything was okay…and goodbye. As the car pulled away, a sick knot formed immediately in his stomach. He’d made it…so far. Bram heard the sound of a match being struck. The darkness was set ablaze with the flickering match. Bram was shocked to see a grizzled old vagabond sitting just a few feet from him. The bum smiled a toothless grin, puffed on his cigarette butt, and the match light went out.
11
THE JOURNEY FOR BRAM was one of wonderment and danger. The caravan moved slowly over the roads, keeping pace with the rough depressions of the highways. He slept cautiously, always aware of the movement of the trucks. At night when they pulled over to rest, fuel up, or grab a bite to eat, Bram would venture from the truck to go to the toilet. After that he would sneak back inside and snuggle down, always aware that one false move, one misplaced noise could be his undoing, and all that he had planned would be for nothing. He wondered what the ship The Ghanjee would be like. From the conversations he overheard with the men, it would be huge. It would have to be, thought Bram, to carry all this cargo and more.
He crossed the borders from one country to another, hearing different languages and seeing the differences in the environment. Green rolling hills, forests, lakes, beautiful crystal lakes, some as beautiful as Cryer Lake. Bram ate by rationing the food he had brought. Occasionally the bum would sneak out of the truck and head for a local store. Bram figured if someone saw him they would think he was just one of the roustabouts. Then he would bring back sandwiches, pickles, chips, and drinks that he would share with Bram. Every time Bram looked at him he would crack his toothless grin. He never talked, just smiled.
Bram opened the pouch his friends had given him, smiling as he looked through the mementos. It made him think about what his father had said about not having to have your friends close, and that distance does not separate—only the mind and heart.
One evening, as the trucks pulled over so the drivers could rest, Bram heard one driver say that by this time tomorrow night, they would finally reach the port. He could hardly sleep that night, watching out the slats of the truck for signs they were approaching the ship dock. The air felt crisper, the sky seemed brighter, the stars more plentiful. There was something new in the air, he thought. A strange odor—an excitement came over him. The ocean! He could smell it!
The moon was low and battling for position in the sky as the caravan of trucks pulled up to the shipping dock. Longshoremen and circus employees prepared to unload their cargo. Huge beacons of light illuminated the area with the brightness of day. High overhead, the engine of a giant crane roared to life.
Bram slipped out the back of the truck before it stopped, and hid behind a stack of large cargo crates. Across the side of the crate was stamped in large bold letters: CIRCUS CARGO-NEW YORK. A dense fog had moved in, making visibility difficult. The smell of the dock reminded him of the fish market back home. It had a salty air to it; in fact, Bram felt the taste of salt in his mouth. He heard the sounds of the harbor thunder. Chains for hoisting cargo rattled, men called out orders in many different languages, small trucks hauling everything from vegetables to fine fabrics shifted their gears to low as they cautiously moved to the edge of the docks. He noticed a few men dressed in uniforms walking around in pairs. Perhaps they were the police or guards for the ships. Whatever they were, Bram decided to stay hidden for as long as he could and as far away from them as possible.
Bram wasn’t more than twenty-five feet from the edge of the dock. The blast of a horn caused him to jump and as he turned toward the sea, he saw something coming through the fog with giant floodlights sweeping into the darkness, illuminating a huge dark form that slowly drifted toward the dock. Creaking restlessly was the immense twin-stack Indian freighter, The Ghanjee, the able-bodied vessel that had traveled the high seas for the past twenty-five years.
Bram could never have imagined so magnificent a ship. Six rows of lights lined the side from bow to stern, while way up on the deck, people looked over the guard rail. Ropes were thrown down from the vessel and lashed around large wooden stumps protruding from the dock. Overhead, a large crane swung an immense hook and net to the dockhands below, where they loaded circus equipment and paraphernalia. Upon a signal from one of the longshoremen, the crane lifted its heavy load higher and higher until the cargo swung over the railing and disappeared into the hold of the ship. This was repeated for the next two hours until every truck was emptied of equipment and animals in cages, except the one carrying the elephants and their equipment. Bram started to worry. The sun had been up for hours now, and with most of the circus trucks having been unloaded, he felt that if something didn’t happen soon, he’d be discovered.
A loud trumpet from an elephant had Bram scanning the docks to locate its source. His head shot up and down like a periscope. Another trumpet made it clear. Shielding his eyes from the sun’s direct glare, Bram saw Modoc high above his head, swinging from the crane. The heavy chain suspended from above divided into four strands that extended down to the corners of a thick flooring. All four of Mo’s feet were chained to a pallet, and a heavy rope was attached to a wide sling that was in turn strapped around her belly. This helped support Modoc and kept her from falling. Yet another line was wrenched taut to prevent the platform from turning. Although it appeared quite precarious, Mo seemed to be doing just fine, and in fact looked as if she was enjoying the ride. Those men, know their business all right, Bram thought. He was shocked from his reverie by a hand grabbing his shoulder. He spun around and was face to face with Kelly.
“Glad to see you made it,” Kelly hissed. “We don’t have time to talk. You gotta move now, son, while everybody’s watching the elephants. Get in this box and keep low.” Kelly pointed to a large wooden container.
“But Kelly—” Bram tried to ask a few questions.
“Later, just GET IN! There’s other stuff going in the box with you. It’s a lot of miscellaneous smaller stuff, and don’t worry if they nail the box closed. I’ll find you after a while and let you out, okay?”
“Okay…I guess,” Bram mumbled.
As Kelly marked a large “X” on the wood, Bram threw his leg over the edge and dropped inside. Fortunately a bunch of cardboard boxes and canvas broke his fall. Using them as a hiding place, he built a cavelike structure in the corner and crawled inside it.
Bram didn’t have long to wait before various “items” began sailing through the air, pieces of the kiosks, wagon wheels, training equipment, harnesses, and tools. The heavy cardboard over his head deflected most everything, and he survived the onslaught. Darkness replaced sunlight as the men succeeded in sliding the cover over the wooden crate. He heard the big nails hammer the lid securely into place. Thin shafts of light found their way through the wooden slats. A sharp lurch sent him reeling across the box. Chains rattled while the men hurriedly fastened them under the crate. It shifted and was soon airborne, swaying as it attained a height far above the ship’s railing. Peeking through the slats, for the first time he could see the whole deck. People
looked liked insects. Massive plumes of smoke billowed from the ship’s two great stacks; she was preparing to get under way.
The crate swung over the vessel and stopped, then Bram felt he was falling! His heart skipped a beat, his breath came faster, then a large hole opened up underneath him. He plunged into the darkness of the hold. Bram heard chains being detached and slid out from underneath the crate.
He had just settled down for a rest when he heard something hard hit the top of his crate. They had stacked another one directly above him. He felt panic. What would happen to him if something horrible befell Kelly, or maybe he even died! No one knew where he was. He would suffocate to death. Bram huddled in the corner, listening. Only the sound of his own breathing could be heard. He hadn’t slept in the last twenty-four hours and, finally, the darkness brought on drowsiness.
“Bram! Are you okay? Bram! Bram? Do you hear me?” Bram awoke, perspiration dripping from his forehead, to find that the crate above him was being lowered to the floor by a tractor. Voices sounded muffled. It took a while for him to realize where he was.
“Yeah,” Bram called, “I’m okay. Just fine.”
With an abrasive, wrenching sound of a crowbar pulling the nails out, and a hefting of the top, the crate lid fell away. Bram leaped up to the open edge, and with Kelly’s help, jumped to the floor below.
“Boy, am I glad to see you, Kelly. I was worried that you might have missed the boat or something, and nobody would’ve known I was there, and—”
“I wouldn’t have forgotten you, boy, but listen, your problems are just beginning. If they find out about you there’ll be the wrath of the captain to answer to. Come on, I’ll show you where they’re keeping the elephants. I put some food down there for you, too.”
Bram smelled the animal hold long before they arrived. The hay and animal droppings were something he’d spent a lot of time shoveling. The animals were housed in a rather large section of the hold, twenty-five by fifty meters, on the starboard side of the ship. It ran along the bulkhead that separated the seas from the elephants. Each elephant was chained to a large eye bolt welded into the superstructure of the ship.
Across from the elephants was an army cannon. Painted a dark gray and tied down by several steel cables, it appeared in the dimness like a demented aberration of an elephant. Like its counterparts, it was large, gray, and chained, settling back into the shadows with its long, thick muzzle protruding. A protective shield bridged the wheels, and in the eerie darkness it appeared like a tortured mouth twisted at the corners, giving it Lucifer’s grin.
Kelly told Bram that the lions, tigers, and other animals were housed in another section of the ship. “Look, kid, I’ve got to go. There’s food hidden in an old blanket next to the stall. Stay out of sight and I’ll pop down every so often to see how you’re doing and bring you more.”
“Thanks, Kelly, you’re a good friend. I really appreciate all that you’ve done for me. Maybe someday I can—”
But Kelly was gone. He didn’t understand why Kelly had decided to help him; someday he would ask. Interrupting the darkness came the thunderous blast of an elephant.
“Mo! It’s me!”
He ran to her, embracing her trunk. She was so excited she picked him up, swaying with delight. Emma was there, and Tina and Karno. For the next few hours, Bram told them all that had happened to him, how he missed home and his friends. He checked them over, looking for any punctures from the bull hook. He found some on all of them and many on Modoc, four in the base of her trunk, several in both front knees, and three on her head. He was furious. He hated trainers who believed they had to be tough, show authority, be strict. They used the bull hook as a weapon, stabbing, jabbing, causing unnecessary pain when only a bit of patience and understanding were needed. Some trainers had been caught sharpening their bull hooks so as to inflict pain. Bram knew that the true test was to rest the point of the bull hook on the tip of the index finger to see if it drew blood. If it did, it would prove that the trainer’s methods were brutal. It’s a sign that the hook was being used with too heavy a hand.
Suddenly he heard the echoed talking of men coming from somewhere in the hold. They were getting closer. He grabbed his meager belongings and disappeared under the straw behind Mo as two keepers appeared from around the corner.
“I tell ya, I heard Jumbo bellow,” he heard a voice explain. The voice was familiar to him. He snuck a peek and saw it was Jake, the trainer. With him was an Indian carrying a bull hook, which he referred to as a “choon.” Bram couldn’t be discovered now. Not after all he had gone through. He took a deep breath as he recognized Jake, and crawled back further into the straw. He tried not to breathe at all lest he be heard and discovered.
“They do not look upset to me,” said the Indian as he came close to where Bram was hiding.
Jake shook his head, “I heard this one trumpet—something must have bothered her.”
He heard Jake pat Modoc and walk around the animal. The Indian stood almost directly in front of where Bram was. He closed his eyes and prayed.
“I do not see anything,” said the Indian. “The others are quiet enough.”
“Well, I ain’t one that likes surprises,” replied Jake. “No sense in Mr. North gettin’ damaged goods, ya know.”
Bram’s heart moved from his throat back to his chest as they headed out into the passageway.
As the days passed, Bram settled into organizing his existence. He found a metal cabinet of fair size located behind the elephants where the trainers kept their equipment. Underneath the drawers was a broken bin built into the frame of the legs. Its door was jammed, and only by pulling hard could he open it. Brushing out the cobwebs, he put his stuff inside, jammed the door back into its original position, and sprinkled some dust over it. He felt sure no one would attempt to use it.
Bram had worried about obtaining food, but was pleased to settle for sharing Modoc’s. Every morning and evening the elephants were fed a diet of alfalfa and oat hay mix; five pounds of grain; a treat of bananas, apples, oranges, and bread; plus whatever else the kitchen had as leftovers. Bram picked through it before Mo and her friends could devour it all. There was a hose for fresh water handy at all times.
The scary moments came when the keepers arrived to clean up. They would wheel a large bin ahead of them, shoveling the dung and hay into it. Once they finished, they spread fresh straw for bedding. Bram had to keep ahead of the keepers at all times. When they were working at one end he would stay low at the other. As they progressed down the line, he kept moving ahead of them. At the end of the row when they weren’t watching, he made a quick jump behind the bin. As they pushed it out, he would slip away into the dark, taking advantage of the shadows, and later work his way back.
When Kelly brought food or clothing to make his stay more comfortable, they would sit and talk of many things. Kelly told him that the ship they were on was an East Indian vessel, owned by British authorities, and was commissioned to travel the route between Europe and the eastern coast of the United States. He verified most of the things that Bram had been told about their route.
“This is by no means the shortest way,” Kelly continued, “but it was all Mr. North could find that would get us home before the seasonal storms hit and make the oceans too dangerous.”
They talked of the United States and how, if Bram made it, he could survive. Bram was surprised to find out that things were not as easy as he had thought, but there was no turning back. He’d take it a day at a time and keep a positive, optimistic outlook.
Bram introduced Kelly to Modoc and the other elephants. Kelly was a little unsure of being next to animals that big, but once he got to know them, he liked their gentleness and kindness.
“I can see you and Modoc are best of friends,” he said to Bram one day as he watched the care Bram took in cleaning Mo.
“We were born at the same time, at the same place. We’ve always been with each other. I couldn’t imagine not being able to be with h
er. We’re connected, my father always told me, and we are.”
“Well, I’d hate to see anything happen to separate you two. Be careful, Bram. I’ll come back when I can. See ya. Bye, Modoc.”
The dark quarters and gentle rolling of the ship had a soothing effect. It gave Bram an opportunity to hear sounds and see things about the elephants that he was never fully aware of before, the grinding of food between those massive molars, the gurgling noises in their stomachs, the swishing of tails against their buttocks, the rasping of their legs rubbing together, the squeaking and rumbling sounds when they spoke to one another. Amid the intimacy of their elephant lifestyle, Bram felt that somewhere in the course of time he had been an elephant. His instincts and thoughts were the same as Mo’s; their fears, needs, and concerns were all shared.
Modoc treated Bram as her son. She was always hugging, kissing, and sharing her food with him. Sometimes when he fell asleep in the hay she would stand over him, quietly rocking her body and rumbling softly.
A week had passed, and Bram figured it was time to make his move. Kelly has insisted that he remain hidden but he felt the captain might have compassion for him, and if not, there was no way the ship would return him to Germany. He gathered his things from the cabinet, raked the straw out of his hair with his fingers, and was saying goodbye to Mo when he felt a strong hand grip the back of his neck.
12
“WHAT IN THE HELL do you think you’re doing!” The voice was loud and angry.
“I…was just going to see the captain,” Bram stammered under the powerful grip.
“Oh, were you now? Well, maybe we’d better go and see him together.”
Bram was held from behind so powerfully that he couldn’t even turn to see his captor. Modoc’s ears shot forward. A low vibrating moan could be heard.
“It’s okay, Mo,” said Bram. “Not to worry, girl,” he coughed back as he was being guided out of the menagerie area and up to the top deck.
