Tiger's Curse
“Ren?”
“Yes?”
“The jungle frightens me, and this situation frightens me.”
He let go of the apron string and looked into my eyes. “I know.”
“Ren?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t . . . leave me, okay?”
His face softened into a tender expression, and his mouth turned up in a sincere smile. “Asambhava. I won’t.”
I felt myself responding to his smile with one of my own when a shadow fell across his face. He clenched his fists and tightened his jaw. I saw a tremor pass through his body, and the chair fell forward as he collapsed to the ground on his hands and knees. I stood to reach out to him and was amazed to see his body morph back into the tiger form I knew so well. Ren the tiger shook himself, then approached my outstretched hand and rubbed his head against it.
9
a friend
i sat on the edge of the bed thinking about what Ren had shared with me. Looking at the tiger now, I thought, or perhaps hoped, that I might’ve actually imagined everything. Maybe the jungle is causing me to hallucinate. Is all this real? Is there really a person underneath that fur?
Ren stretched out on the floor and rested his head on his paws. He looked at me with his gorgeous blue eyes for a long moment, and at once, I knew that this was real.
Ren had said that the shaman wouldn’t be back until dusk, which was still several hours away. The bed looked inviting. A nap would be nice, but I was filthy. I decided that a bath was the first order of business and went to investigate the tub, which needed to be filled old-school style—with a bucket.
I began the arduous task of pumping water into the bucket, dumping it into the tub, and starting all over again. It looked easier on television than it was in real life. I thought my arms were going to fall off after only three buckets, but I pushed through the ache knowing how good a bath would feel. My tired arms convinced me that a half bath was more than adequate.
I kicked off my tennis shoes and started to unbutton my shirt. I got about halfway down when I suddenly realized that I had an audience. I held my shirt together and turned around to find Ren watching me.
“Some gentleman you are. You’re being as quiet as a mouse on purpose, aren’t you? Well, I don’t think so, Mister. You’d better sit outside until I’m done with my bath.” I waved my arm in the air. “Go . . . keep watch or something.”
I opened the door, and Ren slowly dragged his body outside. Quickly undressing, I stepped into the tepid water and began scrubbing away at my dirty skin with the shaman’s homemade herbal soap. After soaping through my hair with the lemony sage bar and rinsing off, I lay back in the tub for a moment, thinking. What have I gotten myself into? Why didn’t Mr. Kadam tell me any of this? What are they expecting me to do? How long am I going to be stuck in the jungle in India?
Questions whirled around in my mind, displacing any coherent thoughts. They tossed around, spinning into a cyclone of confusion. Giving up trying to make sense of it all, I climbed out, dried off, got dressed, and opened the door for Ren who had been lying with his back pressed against it.
“Okay, you can come back in now. I’m decent.”
Ren wandered back in while I sat on the bed cross-legged and began combing the tangles out of my hair.
“Well, Ren, I’ll sure be giving Mr. Kadam a piece of my mind after we get out of here. You’re not off the hook yet either, by the way. I have a thousand questions so you’d better prepare yourself.”
I braided my hair and tied a green ribbon around the tail. Tucking my arms behind my head, I lay down on the pillow and stared up at the bamboo ceiling. Ren put his head on the mattress near mine and looked at me with an apologetic tiger expression.
I laughed and patted his head, awkwardly at first, but he leaned in, and I overcame my shyness quickly.
“It’s fine, Ren. I’m not mad, really. I just wish you two had trusted me more.”
He licked my hand and lay down on the floor to rest while I turned on my side to watch him.
I must have drifted off to sleep because when I opened my eyes it was dark in the hut except for a lantern glowing softly in the kitchen. Seated at the table was an old man.
I sat up and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, surprised that I’d slept so long. The shaman was busy picking the leaves off several plants spread out on the table. As I stood up, he beckoned me closer.
“Hallo, little lady. You sleep long time. Very tired. Very, very tired.”
I walked to the table, followed by Ren. He yawned, arched his back, and stretched himself one leg at a time, then sat at my feet.
“You hungry? Eat. Good food, hmmm?” The shaman smacked his lips, “Very tast-ey.” The little man stood up and scooped some aromatic, herby vegetable stew out of a bubbling pot on the wood stove. He added a piece of warm flatbread along the edge of the bowl, and came back to the table. Pushing the bowl toward me, he nodded satisfactorily and then sat down and continued stripping the leaves from the plants.
The stew smelled heavenly, especially after eating energy bars for a day and a half.
The shaman clucked his tongue. “What your name?”
“Kelsey,” I mumbled, as I chewed.
“Kahl-see. You have good name. Strong.”
“Thank you for the food. It’s delicious!”
He grunted in response and waved his hand dismissively.
I asked him, “What’s your name?”
“My name, uh, too immense. You call me Phet.”
Phet was a small, brown, wrinkly man with a crown of wiry gray hair circling the back of his head. His shiny bald patch reflected the light of the lamp. He was dressed in a roughly woven, grayish-green wrap and sandals. The material was wound around his scrawny arms, and his bare legs stuck out below it from his knobby knees down. A sarong was thrown over his shoulder haphazardly, and I was surprised the flimsy garment even stayed on his thin frame.
“Phet, I’m sorry to barge into your home. Ren led me here. You see—”
“Ah, Ren, your tiger. Yes, Phet be acquainted with why you here. Anik say you and Ren coming, so, I go Suki Lake today for . . . preparation.”
I scooped up some more stew as he brought me a cup of water. “Do you mean Mr. Kadam? Did he tell you we were coming?”
“Yes, yes. Kadam tell Phet.” The shaman pushed aside his plants, making room on the corner of the table, and then picked up a little cage that held an exquisite tiny red bird. “Birds at Suki Lake are many, but this bird largely extraordinary.”
He leaned over, clicked his tongue at the bird, and waggled his finger next to the cage. He started humming and spoke to it gaily in his native language. Turning his attention back to me, he said, “Phet linger all day capture. Bird sing be-u-ti-full song.”
“Will he sing for us?”
“Who is knowing? Sometime bird never sing, whole lifetime. Only sing if special parson. Kahl-see is special parson?”
He laughed uproariously as if he’d made a fantastic joke. “Phet, what is the bird called?”
“He is Durga’s hatchling.”
I finished my stew and set the bowl to the side. “Who is Durga?”
He grinned. “Ah. Durga be-u-ti-full goddess, and Phet,” gesturing to himself, “is willing low servant. Bird sing for Durga and one special woman.” He picked up his leaves again and continued working.
“So you are a priest of Durga?”
“Priest edify other citizen. Phet exist alone. Serve alone.”
“Do you like to be alone?”
“Alone is reasoned mind, hear things, see things. Added people is too many voice.”
He had a good point. I don’t mind being alone either. The only problem is that if you’re always alone, you get lonely.
“Hmm. Your bird is very beautiful.”
He nodded and worked quietly.
“May I help you with the leaves?” I asked.
He grinned widely, revealing a broken smile with several missing
teeth. His eyes almost disappeared amid the deep brown wrinkles. “You want assist me? Yes, Kahl-see. Watch Phet. Follow. You try.”
He held the stem of a plant and pulled downward with his fingers until he had stripped off all of the leaves. He handed me a branch with tiny leaves, which looked like a type of rosemary. I plucked off the fragrant green leaves and piled them up on the table. We worked companionably together for a while.
Apparently, he harvested the herbs for a living. He showed me the different plants that he’d collected and told me their names and what they were used for. He also had the dry collection, which was hanging from the ceiling, and he spent some time describing each one of those. Some of the names I was familiar with, but others I’d never heard of before.
The more interesting ones were arjuna, the ground bark of a tree used medicinally to aid circulation and digestion; turmeric, good for circulation as well but also provided aid to the respiratory system; and neem leaves, which did something to aid digestion. I didn’t ask any detailed questions about that one.
Others were gotu kola, which smelled bitter and sweet. Phet said it gave long life and lots of energy. Brahmi leaves helped a person think better, and shatavari was a root good for female problems.
He stood on a little step stool, took down some of the dry plants, and replaced them with fresh ones, and then he got out a mortar and pestle. After teaching me how to crumble the herbs and grind them, he turned the job over to me so I could grind several different types.
Phet opened one jar that had hard, golden drops of resin inside. I smelled it and exclaimed, “I remember that smell from the jungle. It’s that gummy stuff that drips from the tree, right?”
“Very good Kahl-see. It name olibanum. Come from Boswellia tree, but maybe you call frankincense.”
“Frankincense? I always wondered what that was.”
He took out a small chip and handed it to me. “Here, Kahl-see, taste.”
“You want me to eat that? I thought it was a perfume.”
“Take, Kahl-see, you try.” He put a piece on his own tongue, and I followed suit.
It smelled spicy, and its flavor was sweet and warm. Its texture was like sticky gum. Phet chewed with his few teeth and grinned at me.
“Good taste, Kahl-see? Now breathe long.”
“Breathe long?”
He demonstrated by sucking in a deep breath, so I did too. He thumped me on the back, which would have caused me to spit out the gum if it wasn’t permanently stuck to my teeth. “You see? Good you stum-ack, good breathe, no worries.” He handed me the small jar of frankincense. “You keep, good value meant for you.”
I thanked him, and after placing the jar in my backpack, returned to the mortar and pestle.
He asked, “Kahl-see, you travel lengthy way, yes?”
“Oh, yes, a very long way.” I told him about meeting Ren in Oregon and then journeying to India with Mr. Kadam. I also described the loss of the truck, our trek through the jungle, and ended with finding his home.
Phet nodded and listened intently. “And your tiger is not as always tiger. Am I correct in this saying?”
I looked at Ren. “Yes, you are correct.”
“You wish to help the tiger?”
“Yes, I wish to help him. I’m angry that he tricked me, but I understand why he did.” I ducked my head and shrugged my shoulders. “I just want him to be free.” At that moment, the little red bird burst into a lovely song and continued to sing for the next few minutes.
Phet closed his eyes, listened with an expression of pure rapture, and hummed quietly along. When the bird stopped singing, he opened his eyes and looked at me with a delighted smile.
“Kahl-see! You very special! Joyful is my feeling! Phet to perceive song of Durga!” He got up gleefully and began bustling away all the plants and jars. “At the present, you must respite. Important sunrise is tomorrow. Phet must pray in the dark hours, and you necessity sleep. Embark on your traverse tomorrow. It’s hard as difficult. In first light, Phet assist you in the company of tiger. Durga’s secret to unveil. Now go drowse.”
“I just had a long nap, and I’m not sleepy yet. Can’t I stay with you and ask more questions?”
“No. Phet go pray. Necessary express thanks Durga in favor of unforeseen blessing. You essential slumber. Phet assemble brew expand Kahl-see sleep.”
He placed several leaves into a cup and poured steaming water over them. After a minute, he handed the cup to me and indicated that I should drink it. It smelled almost like a peppermint tea with a hint of spice similar to cloves. I sipped it and enjoyed the flavor. He shooed me over to the bed and sent Ren along with me. After dimming the lamp, he pulled a satchel over his shoulder, smiled at me, and left, closing the door quietly behind him.
I lay down on the bed thinking that sleep would be impossible, but before long I drifted off into a slumber that was comfortable, gray, and dreamless.
Early the next morning, Phet awakened me by clapping his hands together loudly. “Hallo, Kahl-see and fateful Ren. Phet is pray even as you sleeping. As a consequence, Durga makes miracle. You must awaken! Compose yourself and we converse.”
“Okay, Phet, I’ll hurry.” I pulled the curtain around me and got dressed.
In the kitchen Phet was cooking eggs and had already set a large plate of them on the floor for Ren. I washed my hands with the herbal soap and sat down at the table, pulled out my braid, and finger combed through my wavy hair.
Ren stopped eating, gulped his mouthful of eggs, and watched me intently as I worked with my hair.
“Ren, stop staring at me! Eat your eggs. You’re probably starving.”
I tied my hair up in a ponytail, and he finally turned back to his food. Phet brought me a plate also. It had a small salad with a strange variety of mixed greens from his garden and a nice omelet. Then he sat down to talk to us.
“Kahl-see, I am favorable man at present. Durga exclaim to me. She will help you. Numerous year in the past, Anik Kadam pursue remedy to comfort Ren. I advise him Durga be partial to tiger, but no one can alleviate him. He ask me what can he do? That nighttime, Phet dream two tigers, one pale like moon, one black, night resembling. Durga speak softly my ear. She say only special girl can break curse. Phet know girl is Durga’s favored one. She struggle for tiger. I tell Anik: watch for goddess’ special girl. I give indication—girl alone, brown hair, dark eyes. She be devoted to tiger, and her utterance are powerful like goddess melody. Help tiger be free again. I tell Anik: discover Durga’s favored one and bring to me.”
He placed his brown, crooked hands on the table and leaned closer to me. “Kahl-see, Phet perceive you are exceptional favored one of Durga.”
“Phet, what are you talking about?”
“You are strong, beautiful warrior like Durga.”
“Me? A strong, beautiful warrior? I think you have the wrong girl.”
Ren growled low in his throat and Phet clicked his tongue. “No. Durga’s hatchling sing for you. You are accurate girl! Do not thrust away destiny, toss away like weed! Is precious, costly flower. Patience. Wait time and bloom open.”
“Okay, Phet, I’ll try my best. What do I have to do? How can I break the curse?”
“Durga help you at Kanheri Cave. Use key to open chamber.”
“What key?” I asked.
“Key is distinguished Mujulaain Empire Seal. Tiger knows. Find underground place in cave. Seal is key. Durga lead you to answer. Free tiger.”
I started to tremble uncontrollably. This was too much to take in at once. Secret cave messages, being the favored one of an Indian goddess, and going off on a jungle adventure with a tiger? It was too much for me to accept. I felt overwhelmed. My mind kept screaming, Not possible! Not possible! How did I get trapped in this bizarre situation? Oh, yeah. I volunteered.
Phet watched me curiously. He put his hand on top of mine. It was warm and papery and calmed me instantly.
“Kahl-see, have faith in self. You strong woman. Tiger protect
you.”
I looked down at Ren, who was sitting on the bamboo floor watching me with a concerned expression. “Yes, I know he’ll watch out for me. I do want to help him break the curse. It’s just a little . . . daunting.”
Phet squeezed my hand, and Ren lifted a paw to my knee. I swallowed my fear and pushed it to the back of my mind. “So, Phet, where do we go next? The cave?”
“Tiger know where to go. Follow tiger. Get Seal. Must hasten departure. Before you go, Kahl-see, Phet bestow you goddess mark and prayer.”
Phet picked up a small arrangement of leaves we had picked through the night before. He waved them in the air around my head and down each of my arms while chanting softly. Then he pulled out a small leaf and touched it to my eyes, nose, mouth, and forehead. He turned to Ren and went through the same process.
Next, he stood and brought over a small jar filled with brown liquid. He took a thin twig that had been stripped of its leaves and lightly dipped it in the jar. Taking my right hand in his, he began to draw geometrical designs. The liquid had a pungent smell, and the swirls he drew reminded me of henna hand drawings.
When he was done, I turned my hand back and forth, admiring the skill it took to create the elaborate artwork. The patterns he drew covered the back of my right hand, as well as the palm and fingertips.
“What is this for?” I asked.
“This symbol powerful. The mark stay lots of days.”
Phet gathered up all the leaves and twigs, threw them into the old cast-iron wood-burning stove, and stood over it for a moment to inhale the smoke. Then, he turned to me, bowing.
“Kahl-see, now time to depart.”
Ren headed out the door. I bowed back to Phet and then hugged him briefly. “Thank you for everything you’ve done. I really appreciate your hospitality and your kindness.”
He smiled at me warmly and squeezed my hand. I grabbed my bag and backpack, ducked under the doorframe, and followed Ren outside.
Grinning, Phet came to the little door and waved good-bye.