Blue Shadows Farm: A Novel

42. Ole Brothers Circus—July 1902

245 July 1902 One day the following year, in July, the Ole Brothers Circus showed up in Link Lake for two performances, one in the afternoon and one in the evening. The circus moved from town to town by horse-pulled wagons. It was quite a sight to see the circus moving down the road, a string of fifteen circus wagons with an elephant walking in the midst of the entourage. The Ole Brothers Circus didn’t amount to much. True, it had an elephant. Circus-goers said that if a circus didn’t have an elephant, then it shouldn’t be called a circus. The elephant’s name was Nan; she was a huge beast that had grown old and slow but was mostly docile and seemed to enjoy the crowds of people that came to the circus and mainly just gawked at her as she stood tethered just outside the big top. The Ole Brothers—Karl, Otto, and Ole—were brothers all right, but their last name was really Gulbrandson. They considered calling themselves the Gulbrandson Brothers Show, but finally settled on “Ole” for a name. “Ole” was short and to the point and didn’t require as much paint when they made signs announcing the show’s 42 Ole Brothers Circus arrival. Besides, Ole Gulbrandson was the oldest of the three and had the final say involving decisions of some import. Abe rode his horse to Link Lake in time to watch the circus put itself together on a warm, early July morning. As he stood gaping, one of the head guys asked if he’d like to help out, drive some stakes, stretch the canvas, put up the big top. “Sure,” Abe said. At age twenty-six he was tall, strong, and accustomed to hard work on the farm. With a little practice, he was soon pounding stakes as well as the experienced roustabouts who traveled with the show. When Ole Gulbrandson learned that Abe knew how to drive horses, he took him off to the side. “How’d you like to spend the summer traveling with our show?” Ole asked. “Nah, Pa expects me to work on the farm.” “Tell you what, you come with us and I’ll teach you how to drive our six-horse team, and that’s all you’ll do, no more pounding stakes and stretching canvas. Besides that, we’ll pay you $3 a day, with free meals and a cot to rest your head.” What he didn’t tell Abe was they mostly traveled at night and sleep was a rare commodity. Abe explained all of this to his mother and dad, who were dead set against the idea but agreed when he said he’d give them half of what he earned. So Abe Starkweather was away from home for the first time and traveling with a circus. And he was off the farm. His dream had been fulfilled. By the third week with the circus, he had mastered driving the sixhorse team in parades and down the road at night when they traveled to the next town. He fell into the routine of the circus, which was repeated day after day, night after night, as the Ole Brothers Show made the rounds of Wisconsin’s small towns and cities. When the circus arrived at a town where they were to show, usually in the predawn morning, Abe would unhitch his team, water 246 Ole Brothers Circus—July 1902 247 Ole Brothers Circus—July 1902 and feed them, and allow them to rest before the late-morning parade. One day while he was unharnessing the horses, the young aerialist from the show stopped by to watch and chat. Soon she was doing this every day. She said her name was Augusta Meier, although her show name was Jenny Lou Norton. The visits were a bit unusual. Ordinarily, the show people had nothing to do with the workers. But maybe, as a teamster, Abe might be considered a cut above the ordinary workers. Maybe that’s why she was hanging around. It didn’t matter; he began to enjoy her company. When he wasn’t working with the team, he would sometimes stop by to watch her perform in the big top. She wore the tiniest little costume, leaving not much to a man’s imagination. She had long white legs and a narrow waist...