Ralph Helfer (11 page)

“W
AKE UP
! W
AKE UP, SIR
!”

Bram awoke from a deep sleep to find a group of people standing over him and Modoc. They all wore garb similar to what he remembered seeing on the staff at the hospital. On their turbans and kurtas was an insignia with an elephant similar to the statute in front of the palace. The name
ELEPHANTARIUM
was arched over it.

“Please, sir, are you not aware of the danger you are in by being where you are at this precise moment? Sir?”

The young man who spoke was tall and slender, with black, shining hair, and was dressed in a kurta. Bram realized he was still lying under Mo’s chin and promptly stood up.

“English? You speak English?” he asked, happy at last to speak with someone who could understand him.

“Yes, as do you, I see. Most of us here have learned many languages, English is one. This is good. My name is Sabu,” said the
stranger, “and I am in direct charge under Dr. Scharren, our in-house veterinarian.”

“Mine is Bram, and Modoc and I were rescued at sea.”

“Oh, so you are the one that I have heard about. I wish you welcome to our establishment, but it is most unusual for our guests to come to us in this way,” said Sabu, smiling.

“I’m sorry, but I haven’t seen her since the emergency, and was worried, so I…”

“I understand, but now, please to let me show you a place of privacy where you may change your clothes and eat nourishing food and rest from your trip.”

“Thank you, I appreciate your help, but Modoc needs me. I think it’s better if I stay here.”

Sabu looked at Bram with a serious face. “You are one of us, I see.” Then changing the thought, “She has done nothing more than turn over now and then since she came here, and we are afraid that the disease of peritonitis will commence, as her circulation is poor.”

At once Bram went to Mo. “Good morning, Mosie, how’re ya doin’?” He put his face down close to hers and gave her a small quiet kiss on the cheek. Suddenly Bram became self-conscious and embarrassed in front of Sabu and the others. But Sabu smiled his understanding. “All right, Mosie, it’s time to get up now. We’ve got the world to see and I don’t want to see it alone, so move up, Mo! Move up!”

Mo’s eyes opened wide. She looked around, taking it all in, and seemed to gather energy. “Please, everybody, help support her as she stands. Okay, Mosie, now girl, up! Up, Mo!”

Mo started to rock, each time raising her two free legs higher in the air. On the third try, she threw her head into it, and with the help of six people, all pushing, managed to right herself into a sphinx position.

“Good girl, Mo. Now rest a minute while all that good blood races around and fills in those dry spots that haven’t had any for a long time.”

Sabu was awestruck. “Why, this is very wonderful!” he exclaimed. “You speak the tongue of the pachyderm.”

“If you could bring a few more people to help when she stands, it will make her feel more secure,” requested Bram.

Sabu spoke to one of his assistants, who raced away. “Meanwhile, we can rub her down with a mild astringent to assist the movement of the blood, yes?” asked Sabu.

“Yes,” affirmed Bram.

Sabu’s assistant came back with twenty men, all eager to help. The liniment had been applied and Bram was ready to stand Mo. He addressed the group.

“As she stands, think of yourselves as her muscles. Apply your strength to those areas that need it.” Modoc was surrounded by people, all awaiting Bram’s signal to help her. “Okay, Mosie, come up! Come up! Now, Mo!
Now
!”

She began by stepping two front feet backward, raising her front section. Bram had all the men launch themselves against her chest and her front legs, and push as hard as possible. Slowly, her front feet stepped backward until they were in place. Her head was now quite high in the air. Everyone ran around to her hind section, forming a semicircle.

“Mo, this is it, girl. This is all the way. Come up, Mo, come up!” She strained for all she was worth, and so did they, with some even getting underneath—a dangerous place to be if their effort failed. With great shoving and lifting of tonnage…slowly…Modoc stood! A cry of victory went out, triggering every elephant in the ward to answer back with full-blown trumpets. Special supports were brought in and a sling was lowered under Mo so she could relax her bulk at will and take the weight off her legs.

Bram stayed twenty-four hours a day, feeding, watering, cleaning, and helping Dr. Scharren with shots, pills, and any other medication that was necessary. He set up a place to sleep, and the staff saw to it that Bram had everything he needed to be comfortable. He could eat all his meals with them or have them brought to him if he felt Mo was having a bad time.

Dr. Scharren, a rather obese man, was always having trouble picking things up, climbing stairs, or, for that matter, doing anything that required physical exertion. He was quite jovial about it, however, and his good nature carried through to the care he gave the animals.

“You should go to school and become a veterinarian,” he suggested to Bram. It was during a time when one of the not-so-nice elephants had rammed its tusk into another who was standing too close. Sabu was away, so the doctor asked Bram to assist him. The wound was quite deep and needed a number of stitches.

“I used to help my father with things like this,” Bram said, holding the hemostat as Dr. Scharren sutured the jagged wound. “Blood never bothers me, but I’d still rather be a trainer than a vet, if you’ll pardon me, sir. Elephants are much more fun when they feel good.” The doctor laughed and continued suturing.

Sabu informed Bram that the owner of the Elephantarium, the maharajah, had heard of the Modoc incident and, upon inquiring, was very pleased with Mo’s progress.

“He said he was proud to have such heroes here as his guests and looks forward to meeting you soon. Until then, he offered a place to live and the continued best care available for Mo. I told him of your desire to sleep alongside Modoc, but he wanted me to speak with you anyway.”

“Please tell him I think it would be better for me to stay with Mo until she is completely over her illness, but then I’d be happy to accept his kind offer. Deep down, Sabu,” Bram added, his voice taking on a serious note, “I feel Mo’s problem isn’t just physical. With what she’s been through, well, I think it will take some time before she feels safe and secure again.”

“Master Bram, you are a rare person not to choose the comforts for yourself. I will inform His Majesty of your decision.”

When news was brought to the maharajah that Bram preferred to sleep by Mo until she was better, he ordered a bed to be made for him. Constructed from valuable teakwood, it was ornate and hand-carved, with a canopy, and fitted together without the use of a sin
gle nail. Wherever a joint was needed, a peg of a particular wood was inserted, and within a day’s time, the peg exuded a strange sap, causing it to swell and thus seal the joint firmly. After the carvers had finished, an artist was called to paint the designated areas. The painter loved bright vivid colors, and created many elephants in various scenes of performance, combat, and work. He chose to paint each a different color. There were green and blue and red elephants and every other shade one could imagine. While gaudy, it was truly a work of art…and Bram loved it. The day it arrived, all the mahouts and their assistants turned out to see it. It was carried by six fan men, followed by a procession of the carvers, and their apprentices, the kitchen staff, and a small entourage of the maharajah’s delegates, all anxious to see if Bram was pleased. Carved and painted at the top of the headboard were the words
HATHI-KA-SAHAB
which meant “Master of the Elephants.” A week hadn’t passed before a matching table was added, and a week after that, a chair.

Kelly became a frequent visitor, bringing fruit, nuts, and gifts from the city. They were walking through the Elephantarium’s facilities when Kelly pointed to a gold-domed structure standing high above the trees in a nearby section of the forest.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Sabu told me it’s where they keep the Royal White Hathi; that means ‘elephant’ in Hindu. Nobody is allowed to see him unless granted permission by the maharajah himself.”

“Maybe someday he’ll let you see it,” said Kelly.

“That would be a fantasy come true, ’cause I don’t believe it really exists. If it does, I can understand why it’s so very sacred and respected by the Hindu people. Maybe it’s just for their eyes.” Bram thought about it for a moment and then changed the subject. “I still don’t understand how we ended up in Calcutta. This is way off the course the ship normally takes. At least that’s what I was told.”

“Well,” said Kelly, “that storm was powerful! Once we rounded the tip of India, the hurricane blew us off course, and the current from the bay pulled us in.”

“Good thing it did or we might never have made it.”

“When you think of all those people lost…”

“…and the animals,” Bram added.

“I know. It seems impossible.”

“We’re very lucky, Kelly. The Indian people here call it good karma. They say we were saved to do something special here on earth.”

“Well, whatever it is I’m supposed to do will happen in the good old U.S.A.”

“What? When?”

“Probably next week. I received a telegram from the circus saying how badly they and all the people back there feel, and the sooner I return, the better.”

“Did it mention anything about the animals?”

“No, an earlier wire said they were sorry that most of the people and animals were lost.”

Bram stopped for a moment. He placed his hand on Kelly’s arm. “Kelly, this is very hard for me to say and I never wanted anybody to lie for me in my life, but if they should ask about Mo or read something…”

“What’s a Mo? I don’t know anything about a Mo.” Bram looked at Kelly. He didn’t know what to say. “Hey,” said Kelly, “no big deal, okay?”

“Okay.”

Kelly threw his arm around Bram’s shoulder, and together they finished their tour of the compound.

Bram asked everyone he met if he’d heard about any survivors, hoping to hear some news of Hands. There was only one small newspaper in town that appeared once a week. By the second week, the sinking was old news, and just a small article appeared on the back page, retelling the same facts.

Everybody knew that the ship had gone down in the worst typhoon to hit the area in the last decade, and that there had been only a few survivors. Wreckage was found up and down the coastline; the bodies washed up on shore included that of a male ele
phant, but no news about any living person or animal had been reported.

Sabu noticed that Bram was quiet most of the afternoon, staying away from the others, staying close to Modoc. He approached respectfully and placed his hand on Bram’s shoulder. Bram looked up.

“You seem most sad today, Bram. What has happened?”

“It’s…the elephant they found on the shoreline was Krono. Another friend lost. It makes me sad when I remember all my friends who…died.”

“They say that no one ever dies. We simply move into another form to live again. In our country there is no death, only the changing from one into another, much like the caterpillar into the butterfly. I’m sure your friends have all come back in their new and brilliant forms.”

“Thank you, Sabu. I would love to see Krono and the others again, no matter what form they are in.”

Later that day Bram checked with the hospital to see if there was any news of Hands. No one could understand what might have happened to him. Bram spent the night with Modoc and held tightly to her, so that he could feel her form close.

The next day a courier brought a message written in gold ink, saying that the maharajah would be pleased if Bram would accept an invitation for lunch at the palace. Folded over the messenger’s arm was a smart-looking red and brown kurta, insignia and all—a gift for Bram to wear at the luncheon. It was exciting for Bram to even think of seeing and speaking with such a powerful man—a man who apparently loved elephants the way Bram did.

Bram was escorted to the palace by Sabu, who told him all the things he should and should not do in the ways of diplomacy and etiquette at the palace.

“Never sit higher than he sits. Never interrupt his speaking. Remember to thank him for his courtesy. Always answer his question before asking your own…”

By the time they arrived, Bram was a nervous wreck. “I’ll never remember all that!”

Sabu smiled. “I’m sure it will be there when you need it.”

They entered the palace through the purple and white marble great hall. Its length was equal to the distance from the barn all the way down to the mailbox back home, thought Bram. They were met by one of the maharajah’s assistants, who escorted them to a large, airy, open room adjoining what appeared to be a veranda.

The setting had captured nature’s beauty, with clear blue pools, rock crystal waterfalls, tropical plants from the jungle. Pink flamingoes, kiwi birds, and atlas deer were free to roam the grounds.

A table at the edge of the pond had been set for four. Long-stemmed Italian red crystal goblets, hand-painted china dishes, intricately folded napkins appealingly graced the table. The assistant who had vanished for a moment returned carrying a gold tray with two clear crystal glasses filled with an iridescent purple drink. Bram followed Sabu’s gesture by taking a glass. Cautiously sipping, he found it so delicious that he had to fight the temptation to gulp it all at once.

The echoes of two men talking could be heard as they entered the room. Both appeared to be in their forties, both slightly gray at the temple. The first wore a turban encrusted with jewels and was dressed in a white velvet coat, adorned with pearls; the larger pearls dripped off the collar and cascaded down the front of the fitted jacket. Smaller pearls outlined the pockets and seams. Matching velvet pants ended at a pair of velvety smooth suede shoes.

The second man was British and wore an expensive bush jacket adorned with epaulets. English riding jodhpurs and highly polished oxblood riding boots completed his wardrobe.