Ralph Helfer (12 page)

Sabu turned and lowered his head slightly as the two men approached, and Bram followed his friend’s actions.

“Ah! Welcome, my boy. Sabu, good to see you.” The man in the velvet jacket stepped forward to shake both their hands. This was undoubtedly the maharajah. He continued, “I would like you both to meet Mr. John Rudyard, my good friend from the teak forest of Burma.”

All parties shook hands. The maharajah turned to Bram. “I want you to know that I have had a detailed account of your actions at sea, and I commend you for your bravery and loyalty to your dear friend, Modoc.”

Bram, a bit embarrassed by the compliment, lowered his head and whispered, “Thank you.”

The maharajah continued, “Mr. Rudyard will be staying with us for a short time, using our facilities to train some of his elephants for his forest operation.”

As the men returned to the patio, four waiters appeared to draw back their chairs for seating.

“If I can be of any service during your stay, Mr. Rudyard, please don’t hesitate to inform me of your needs,” offered Sabu.

“That’s very kind of you, I must say,” answered Rudyard. He turned to Bram. “You, young man, have done an extraordinary thing, keeping your…what’s her name? Modoc? Yes, Modoc, afloat for such a desperately long period of time.”

“She has a strong heart, sir,” Bram replied.

“More like a loving one, I’d say, hmm?” interjected the maharajah.

Bram fiddled with his napkin. Sabu, seeing his predicament, came to his rescue. “Young Bram has done a remarkable job with Modoc, Your Highness. He seems to have that special ability with elephants to control them through their emotions, rather than forcibly.”

“Yes, I have heard of what has happened since your arrival, and find it most interesting.” Then, turning to Rudyard, the maharajah added, “John, perhaps Bram would like to see how you prepare elephants for work in the teak forest.”

“Of course, it would be my pleasure.”

The sumptuous feast in no way resembled a simple lunch. Bram and Sabu left the palace with Bram talking a mile a minute. The palace, the food, meeting the maharajah and Mr. Rudyard, and soon going to see elephant training for something he never knew existed was more than he could have imagined. All his young life
Bram had been told how to train elephants to perform. Certainly there were times when they were needed to help with heavy work around the circus, but this was different. These elephants spent their lives working, as circus elephants did performing. Bram talked all the way back to Modoc’s quarters, and then he had to repeat it for her!

A
FEW DAYS HAD PASSED
when a small Indian man wearing a sailor’s uniform came to see Bram. As the man approached, Bram recognized him as one of the sailors who had been in the water with them. The sailor walked slowly toward him, then, taking his hat off, looked down and greeted Bram in a heavy Indian accent.

“My name is Vinod Shah. I am a seaman in the British navy. I was on the ship and later in the ocean with you. I have come to beg your forgiveness for the horrible thing that I have done.” Bram had no idea what the man was talking about. The man continued, “When we were rescued on the first ship, Hands wanted to try to bring Modoc on board, maybe drag her in the water, but it would have been unrealistic! It was wrong of me to hit him, but I was thinking of myself…and the others!”

The man was overwrought, completely shaken by his confession.

“Sit down, Mr. Shah.” Bram offered him a chair. “Explain, what do you mean by ‘hit him’?”

“I picked up a piece of wood and hit him over the head, hard. He…he fell. I killed him.” The man’s weeping became uncontrollable. “He was an inspiration to us all. I tried to find out what happened to his body but no one could help me. We never knew that you and Modoc were saved.” Vinod’s face flushed at the remembrance.

“Did you check the newspapers?” questioned Bram. “There might have been something.”

“It is quite possible,” Vinod said. “But in this country the news on one side of the street may not be that which is talked about on the other.” Mr. Shah got up from his seat. “I wanted to thank you and Modoc for saving me…all of us. I will leave you now.”

The next week brought news that many bodies had washed up a hundred miles to the east. The current had been strong and swept them out to sea, only to be carried back to shore by yet another current. It sent shivers up Bram’s spine to think it could have been him and Mo. Listed among the dead were Captain Patel, Cook, and some of his crew. Also six Americans including Jake, the elephant trainer.

Bram knew he would never hear about the big cats, the bears, or the chimps. They had been kept in heavy cages, which would have sunk immediately. Poor little Oscar, how he must have panicked; Emma, Krono…and Tina, never getting anything right…Maybe it was just as well, he thought, as they didn’t suffer a slow death like so many of the humans in the water. His heart went out to Appelle, the clown, and Himmel, the bear trainer, and the rest. He hoped they never found out. Losing loved ones was one death, drowning at sea was another…one too many.

As the months passed, Dr. Scharren and Bram worked diligently to bring Modoc back to health. Even the depression that had so worried Bram now seemed to be gone.

He decided he was ready to move into his new quarters overlooking the elephant training area. For Bram it was like going to
heaven. No other place like this existed in all the world.

A spiral staircase led up to his apartment. His quarters featured a wonderful view of the training arena. The entire residence was made of carved teak, sanded and polished to perfection.

Bram’s gifts from the maharajah, the carved bed, table, and chair, fit perfectly into his new lodging. A beautiful hand-woven machar dani—mosquito netting—hung in a large knot from the ceiling above the bed. Even the floor was made out of teak limbs and leaves, treated and woven into a pattern trampled by elephant feet until firm and flat. The big, gracious double window overlooking the ring opened to a small balcony where one could sit and relax with a cool drink while watching the elephants down below.

The arena itself was made out of huge teak logs. The tongue and groove construction formed an indestructible fence for even the might of an elephant, were it to choose such an exit.

A nearby storage facility held various-sized pedestals, solid drums, pull harnesses, drag chains, headpieces, and equipment of different shapes and materials neatly arranged according to the trainers’ needs.

Modoc was kept underneath the apartment in a specially constructed area so she and Bram could be within voice and touch of each other. She learned quickly that she had only to rub against the staircase to alert Bram, as he could feel the vibrations throughout the house.

He looked forward to working with Mo in the arena, and to trying out the different equipment. Just as exciting was the prospect of watching Mr. Rudyard train his hathis.

Bram heard that this maharajah owned more elephants than any before him. He had a genuine love for them and used any excuse to have a parade to show them off.

The maharajah’s favorite elephant was Atoul, the sacred white one. Bram had heard of such an animal, but still believed it to be just a story.

“Ah, but it is true, Master Bram,” Sabu told him, “and I feel that someday the maharajah will allow you to see him. He is kept
away from the others in a golden temple located in the forest, on the grounds of the palace. No one is allowed to go there. Atoul is the largest of all elephants, with tusks that weigh seventy-five kilograms each. Their base are gray as the mourning dove, the tips milky white. His color is the white of snow, and he has deep-set black eyes. His nails are painted bloodred, and the hair of his tail is braided into the pattern used by the ancient mystics to bring togetherness to the people. Only one man, Jagrat, a mystic holy man, has been trained to handle him. It is said that he has learned the way into the elephant’s heart and found peace and contentment there.”

“Maybe someday Modoc could meet him,” said Bram, aglow with the wonder of it all.

“Maybe,” said Sabu.

Bram’s quarters were a delight, and he would sit many hours at the window watching the mahouts bring their animals in for training. One day he saw the arena being cleared for the next session. Twenty-five huge, heavy timbers were rolled in by many assistants and laid in a row along with some heavy-duty harnesses and chains. Into the arena strode a man leading two fairly large elephants. It was Mr. Rudyard. He waved to Bram. Bram returned the gesture and moved to the balcony to get a better view. Each elephant sported a fine pair of ivory tusks. Bram watched as Mr. Rudyard put the elephants through a procedure of pushing, pulling, lifting, carrying, and dragging the logs from one pile to create another.

Sabu arrived and watched with Bram for a while. “Their names are Dindhi and Kali,” he told Bram. “He trains elephants to work the teak up in the forest region of Burma. He’s quite good, and the forest villagers respect and trust him.”

“Isn’t it hard work for the elephants?” asked Bram.

“Yes, but it also builds them into strong and healthy animals. They work only four hours a day and receive superb care. It is a privilege to be a teak elephant, as he can master the needs of the mahout. And it is just as difficult to become a mahout, as everything you see being done here must eventually be controlled from the top.”

That night Bram lay in bed thinking of what it must be like to live in the forest, working with the other trainers, having the elephants hauling and pushing those great logs. In many ways he felt better about it than training elephants to perform for the public, which sometimes seemed disrespectful to the elephants, having them sit up and roll over like a well-trained pet. Yet he knew that kind of thinking came from people who were judgmental of others. If the animal doesn’t
know
what it is doing is foolish, then only the person who thinks it is suffers those feelings. As long as the animal enjoys what it’s doing, and is not forced into something it doesn’t want to do, then it’s okay.

The early morning sun found Bram lying with his head at the foot of the bed, looking up at the carved headboard. In the center was the finest carving of them all. It was of Atoul. One front foot held high, trunk lifted, ears alert, tusks speared forward—he appeared as a spiritual elephant god. Bram’s gaze was so intense, his eyes burned. He squeezed them shut for a fraction of a second, then opened them, readjusting the focus. His skin became cold and clammy. Atoul was staring at him!

The dark eyes were set into a brow of white, and the moon gave them the appearance of moving. They became disjointed and left Atoul’s body, coming toward Bram! Bram rolled away, landing on the floor. He peered back over the bed at the headboard and found everything in order, as it had been.

He sat on the bed trembling. He didn’t feel fear. Strange, yes, but he felt his reactions were due to the shock of what had happened, but not the happening itself.

He fell back asleep, feeling Atoul was there to protect him, and would someday let him in the mystical door his father had spoken of. Perhaps Atoul might even speak with him, as Modoc did now.

For the next few months, when the arena was available, Bram would work Modoc, teaching her the ways of the teak elephants. He noticed her body changing, new muscles developing, and her outward physical appearance seemed to improve.

Early on a Sunday morning when Bram was taking Mo for a
walk, Kelly came to say goodbye. He walked alongside the two and they finally rested at one of the pools. Kelly looked up at the blue sky and sighed deeply.

“I’m going to miss this place, you, Modoc—all of it. It’s been quite an experience.”

Bram felt uncomfortable. It seemed to him he was always saying goodbye to friends.

“Kelly, I don’t know how I can ever repay you for all you’ve done. I don’t think anyone has had such a good friend. But I always wondered why you did all those things.”

Kelly cleared his throat and ran his hands through his hair. He laughed. “When I first saw you, I remember how hurt you were by Mr. North’s comments. I felt kinda sorry for you. Your father had just…passed on, and then you were about to lose Modoc, and, well, if it had been me, I would’ve done the same thing.” He picked some grass and played with the blades in his hand. “Of course, no one needs to know all this, huh, Bram—I mean, I don’t want the world to know ol’ Kelly has such a soft heart. I got a reputation, okay?”

Bram smiled. “It’s all right, Kelly, I won’t tell a soul. And neither will Mo. But I think a lot of people already know.”

Kelly finally drove off with a wave and good wishes for the future. The last thing Bram remembered him doing was a simpleton’s gesture, saying “What’s a Mo?” Bram knew his secret would be kept.

Weeks passed into months. Bram was becoming a member of the family, at least as far as the staff was concerned. He drank of the knowledge they could give, and he in turn shared the many secrets his father had taught him, plus things he’d learned along the way. Modoc became an inspiration to all who had the good fortune to live within the sphere of her life.

Bram lived as a Hindu, wore the clothes, ate the vegetarian diet, and was slowly learning their language.

All the letters he had written to his mom, Gertie, and Curpo had washed away in the mighty storm. Since his rescue he had not
written…not even once. He was afraid to. A letter to Gertie or the others would reveal his location—and that Mo was alive. One slip and the whole town would know. God forbid, Herr Gobel or any of his friends might learn, too. When he was first caught, Bram was sure that the ship’s captain had radioed ahead to the police so they would pick him up when the ship docked. He probably had sent a message to Mr. North as well, telling him about Bram’s stowing away on the ship. If North heard any report about Mo’s survival, he would link it to Bram, and what better source to find Mo than through his family?

In the middle of the palace’s private forest flowed the beautiful Agra, a mystical river of dark blue water. It writhed through the forest like a giant serpent, angling through the trees, changing in width, in girth, never ending, sometimes multichanneled, splitting into many tributaries.

Each morning found Bram astride Mo, ambling through the forest on the way to the river. Others would join them, and sometimes as many as thirty elephants could be seen at one time. As they passed close to the edge of its azure crystallike surface, their images would reflect as clearly as if they were looking in a mirror. Only the leaping of a occasional trout broke the still waters, shattering the reflection into a thousand pieces. On both sides of its shore rose gigantic vine-covered trees and tropical plants with leaves the size of Mo’s ear. The blooming flowers were on loan from God’s Blanket.

Soft red clay trails meandered throughout the forest, occasionally coming to visit the pleasant coves along the water’s edge. Hundreds of huge circular footprints were embossed into the clay path where the elephants had trod for many years.

Each mahout was free to take his hathi on the trails. As they arrived at the lake, bellowing and trumpeting could be heard for miles.

There they took their hathis to a special cleaning area at the edge of the water where they had to “come down” to be scrubbed
clean. Once finished, one by one, each rose and headed for the open water. It was playtime! Tails up, trunks held high, they launched into the lake. Modoc joined the others in part of the daily ritual, but when the others ventured into the water, she stood at the edge, ears at rest, her trunk hanging loosely, the tip nosing the mud gently as small waves lapped at her feet. Bram stood by her side, gently running his hands up and down her legs.

“It’s okay, Mosie, sometimes I feel the same way.” She ran her trunk up his arm. “Those were horrible days, and we’ll never forget them. But someday you’ll know what was then is not now and, well…you’ll see.”

He washed her down with some water from a tightly woven basket dipped in the lake. It was tedious work, but eventually she was fresh and clean, and together they headed up the trail. Mo’s ears followed the sounds as she listened to her new friends play in the water.

Bram saw him from afar…rushing across the grassy slope at the edge of the forest. He and Mosie had been relaxing there in the warm sun, enjoying the soft breezes, feeling the happiness of being there.

“Bram! Bram!” yelled Sabu. “I have news for you that is great!” He flopped down, exhausted from his run.

“What is it?”

Sabu tried to catch his breath while telling Bram the news. “The maharajah…has given you permission…to meet Atoul!”