Tiger's Voyage
“Maybe you should call her now.”
“Nah. She’s got young ’uns now. And once you let that cat out of the bag … well, let’s say it’s easier to let it out than it is puttin’ it back in.”
“I understand. Regret is a hard thing to live with.”
“She probably happily hates me now. I imagine it’s better that way.”
“I can’t imagine she’d hate you. I could never hate Ren.”
He rubbed his jaw. “You couldn’t, huh? Well … maybe someday I’ll write her a letter.”
“You should.”
“Your Mr. Kadam says y’all are goin’ to town tonight. He said you have some business near Mangalore. He’d like to talk with you about it. Want to head down with me?”
“I suppose.”
Wes escorted me to Mr. Kadam, who was busy researching. He indicated a chair nearby.
“Thank you, Wes. I would have sent Kishan, but he seems to be missing at the moment.”
“He’s probably running errands for the invisible man,” I commented.
“Yes. Perhaps.” Mr. Kadam patted my hand sympathetically, and Wes left with a nod.
Getting straight to business, Mr. Kadam turned his laptop around to show me a picture of a temple. “This is the Sri Mangaladevi Temple near Mangalore. We will be going there around midnight to try to awaken the goddess Durga once again. I believe that tonight’s offerings should be related to the pillar representing water. Here is a picture of it. It’s slightly damaged, but you can still make out the carvings.”
The picture showed the goddess Durga at the top of a stone pillar ornately carved with starfish, shells, and fish. The images showed fishermen gathering their nets from the sea, a river sprouting from a conch shell, and farms with rain clouds above them. Villagers offered basins of water along with the bounty of the sea.
Mr. Kadam continued, “I thought you and I could go shopping today to gather some items we may need while I secure access to the temple after hours.”
I shrugged, not caring what we did.
At the appointed time, I waited for Mr. Kadam by the Jeep and dully watching the dockworkers lower the ramp so we could drive off the boat.
Ren is infuriating. What is he thinking? Does he really believe he can just shove Kishan and me together, and that everything will be fine? Get a man for Kelsey. Any man and she’ll be happy. Phet said I’d make a choice. This isn’t a choice; this is a setup. Well, I don’t need to be set up. I know it’s not easy having a girlfriend you can’t touch, but I was willing to put up with that. That particular problem goes both ways. It affects me as much as it does him.
Kishan told Ren that the CPR thing wasn’t his fault. I’m okay. No harm done. How does he expect me to put up with his 180-degree mood swings? Seriously! I should keep a daisy around so I can pluck off the petals to figure out if he loves me or loves me not. If he doesn’t want to be with me, then fine, but he can’t make me love Kishan or anyone else. Why does my life have to be so complicated?
I stood there gnawing my lip and thinking while I waited for Mr. Kadam. He finally showed up, apologizing for being late. Apparently, he’d had a problem locating Ren too.
Fine. Let him play hide-and-seek. I have other things to do.
Mr. Kadam and I spent the afternoon in town purchasing a bag full of items related to the ocean or water. We ate lunch at a little café while he talked of mundane things. He didn’t have any advice to give except to try to be happy. He didn’t have any ideas about how I could be happy but said he felt confident that I could do it.
As soon as we got back to the boat, I pulled out my cell phone tracker. Now that we had broken up, all bets were off, and I turned on the small screen with a vengeance. Ren’s blip showed that he’d moved down to the guest quarters a deck below us, but he never stayed put for long. I followed his blip on my GPS for a while that afternoon. I let him stay out of sight while keeping an eye on his whereabouts, but I started to feel like a stalker-girlfriend—the kind that circles parking lots looking for her ex-boyfriend’s car. So I closed my phone and stopped looking for him.
That evening, I pulled out the bag of purchases and placed all the items in a backpack. We’d bought sunglasses, flip-flops, shells, starfish, a small sealed copper pot of Ganges river water, sunscreen, a live goldfish, coral, a package of dried seaweed, a bottle of drinking water, a CD of ocean sounds, and I added the feather of an ocean bird I’d found on the beach.
I’d taken a nap when we got back and was reading a book in the lounge area when Nilima came in.
“Hi, Miss Kelsey. How are you?”
“As good as can be expected, I suppose. And you?”
“Very well. I hope you don’t mind, but I wanted to do something for you.”
“What’s that?”
She handed me a piece of beautiful silk cloth. “Will you take this with you tonight and offer it to Durga as well?”
“Okay, but why?”
“At the temple you are visiting, maidens participate in a fast called Mangala Parvati Vrata, or the fast of the Durga Mangalore Temple. Women go without food every Tuesday in the summer for many weeks and then offer silk to the goddess.”
“Why do they do that?”
“Because they believe the goddess Durga will find them a charming and handsome groom who will be good to them.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Yes. When I heard that Grandfather wanted to come to this temple, I began to fast, not for myself, but for you.”
“So you fasted yesterday? On Tuesday?”
She tossed her beautiful black hair over her shoulder. “No. I have been fasting much longer than that. You may recall I have not been at dinner or breakfast much since we got on the boat.”
I leaned forward and took Nilima’s hand. “Do you mean you haven’t eaten for more than two weeks?”
“I have had water and milk, but I have not eaten solid food for that time. I have hoped that even though I have not fasted every Tuesday that my many days of fasting will show my dedication. My wish is that Durga will help you find happiness.”
“Nilima, I don’t know what to say.” I hugged her. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before. I would be happy to accept the silk, and I’ll give it to Durga tonight.”
She smiled and squeezed my hand. “Just in case, I’ll wait until you return to break my fast. Good luck to you tonight, Miss Kelsey.”
“Thank you for being such a good friend. I never had a sister, but I can’t imagine a better one than you.”
“And you are my good friend and sister as well. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
Nilima went off to bed, and I returned to my chair. I fingered the beautiful cloth she’d brought and thought about her offering until Mr. Kadam came to retrieve me. I picked up the backpack, slung it over my shoulders, and slid Fanindra onto my arm. We went down to the garage and met Kishan, who had a bag with the Golden Fruit, the Scarf, and the weapons, just in case.
Kishan opened the passenger door for me and got in the back. Suddenly, the door behind me opened and Ren climbed into the Jeep. He looked at me only briefly and then closed the door and put on his seatbelt. The ride into town was awkward and silent.
At the temple, we parked around the back. The building was lit up brightly, so bright, in fact, that it looked like a Disneyland attraction. The structure was conical in shape, like the other temples we’d visited, and had two square buildings attached at each side. The side buildings had glass windows that reminded me of fast-food take-out restaurants except golden statuettes were placed in the windows.
With the lights on, the temple seemed an orange or golden color, but in reality it was white with gold trim. When I expressed concern about the lights, Mr. Kadam assured me that he’d arranged for us to be alone and that it was normal for the temple to remain lit this time of year.
We walked through the unlocked door, entered the temple, and passed several doorways. Mr. Kadam led us down the hall until
we entered a spacious open area. On the far end of the room, lit up from every possible angle, was a golden statue of Durga seated on a golden throne.
Her eyes were closed, and she was dressed in red silk cloth. Precious jewels were wrapped around her neck along with garlands of flowers. When I asked Mr. Kadam if she was made of real gold, he said that actually she was bronze and that all statues of Durga were either made of stone or bronze. He did acknowledge, though, that it was possible for her to have been painted gold or to have a golden overlay.
Durga’s tall, pointed hat was jeweled and garlands of flowers hung from the curved top, which made it look like a feminine version of a Native American chief’s headdress. I could see only four of her arms and only two of her weapons: an axe and a staff. Two of her hands had symbols carved on the palms. Her lips were painted red. She looked so different from the other stone statues that I wondered if she would awaken.
Mr. Kadam hoped to stay this time, but he was prepared to leave at a moment’s notice. I unzipped the backpack, removed our offerings, and placing them at Durga’s feet. I took out the piece of silk last and gently laid it across her lap. No one asked any questions, which was a relief. It wasn’t until we all took a few steps back that I looked around the room. There weren’t any pillars to hold onto.
“Things could get a little bumpy, so be forewarned.”
Kishan nodded at me, and I brushed the bell anklet with my finger. I choked on the sweet memory of the anklet but quickly shoved the thought to the back of my mind. Touching my fingertips to the amulet around my neck for courage, I held out my hand to Kishan. He stepped forward and took it. I held out a hand to Ren also, but he moved to the other side of Mr. Kadam, who took my hand instead. I gritted my teeth, waited for Ren to take Mr. Kadam’s hand, and then spoke.
“Goddess Durga, we’ve returned again to ask your help as we begin this third quest. Help us break the curse that has fallen upon these men and defeat the evil one who set it upon them.”
I squeezed Kishan’s hand, and he stepped forward. “Beautiful goddess, please appear to us once again and grant us the tools necessary to overcome those who would prevent us from finding your prize.”
I looked pointedly down the line at Ren, who said, “We come seeking your wisdom and strength. Please aid us in our time of need.”
“Mr. Kadam? Would you like to say something?” I asked.
“What do I say?”
“Say whatever it is you’d like Durga’s help with.”
He pondered for a few seconds. “Help me come to the aid of my … princes and bring an end to their suffering.”
“Okay, now if you two would change to tigers.”
They did, but nothing happened.
Mr. Kadam asked, “What usually happens next?”
“Hmm, the second the tigers switch, some kind of shaking or earthquake or terrible wind starts.”
“Perhaps my being here is detrimental.”
“I don’t think so.”
“What is different about this other than my being here?”
“The statue is golden, not stone. Both Ren and Kishan are here. Before it was just one or the other.”
“Did you always hold hands like that before?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s try that before we abandon this temple. Kishan and Ren, if the two of you will hold Miss Kelsey’s hand, I will stand back this time.”
Ren reluctantly took my hand. He grunted softly, and I imagined I could feel the burn too. The three of us quickly went through our requests once more before the brothers changed into tigers. Suddenly, the room rocked. Ren changed back into a man just before I slammed into his chest. He put his arms around me to hold me steady. Wind swept through the temple, and the floor pitched again. We both crashed into Kishan, and all three of us fell in a tangle to the floor.
Water began dripping down the statue. It started as a trickle. Then something seemed to burst and a flood poured down and pooled across the floor. A river of water rushed into the temple from every door. Waves of water beat against my legs like surf, and a whipping wind pummeled us. Just as the lights went out, drops of rain hit our faces. Soon our feet
no longer touched the floor. We had no choice but to swim in the dark water as the waves grew bigger.
Ren yelled, “Kelsey! Grab onto my shirt! Don’t let go!”
I screamed when something grabbed my leg.
“It’s me!”
“Kishan? We have to find Mr. Kadam!”
The three of us bobbed, riding impossibly high waves as we called out to Mr. Kadam. Finally, we heard him. “I’m here.”
Ren left me with Kishan and used the tired-swimmer tow Wes had taught us to bring Mr. Kadam closer. Soon the wind quieted, and the waves stilled. I heard a sucking, draining sound. After a few minutes, Ren said he could stand again. It wasn’t long before I could stand too, and the four of us huddled together in the darkness, wet and uncomfortable.
“I should have asked more questions before I decided to tag along,” Mr. Kadam said as he chuckled. “I might have decided to let you three do this on your own.”
The water was almost gone, and Kishan wandered across the room to retrieve our backpacks. He pulled out a glow stick from his and used the light to examine the statue. The beautiful gold and silk were now sodden and filthy. Mud and seaweed covered it, the floor, and us.
“Uh … you might not be getting your deposit back, Mr. Kadam,” I said drolly.
“Indeed.”
“Kelsey! Here!” Kishan gestured me closer.
A handprint had emerged on the throne where none was before.
“Okay. Stand back.”
Kishan retreated only a little as I pressed my hand onto the print and released my lightning power. My hand turned blue and then translucent, and Phet’s marks surfaced once again. I felt something shift in the statue before Kishan pulled me back. A soft rain fell from above. The sodden headdress and golden crown melted away. The golden throne melted too and became a seat of coral encrusted with shells, starfish, and jewels. Durga’s arms dripped rainwater, and two of them began moving.
The goddess brushed water droplets from her arms, and where she wiped, her iridescent glowing skin brightened the room enough for us to see her clearly. Her skin had a pearly luster of alabaster that shifted as she moved, shimmering with blues, greens, and purples. She turned slightly, and a spectacular gleam of light caused me to close my eyes. When I opened them I thought the swirling patterns on her skin reminded me of a pearlescent nail polish, or maybe it was more like the scales of a fish. Whatever it was, it was lovely.
Durga pushed away the remaining piece of her headdress and brushed back her hair in the rain as if she was showering. I watched in fascination as all the gold washed away to reveal the beautiful goddess’s long, dark hair. She wore a simple sea-green dress and a lei of lotus flowers. Her feet were bare. When the shower stopped, she squeezed the water out of her hair and pulled the dripping mass over one shoulder.
With a voice like a tinkling mermaid, Durga laughed. “Ah, Kelsey, my daughter. Your offerings are accepted.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw objects shimmering from all over the room where the water had deposited them.
Durga clucked her tongue. “Oh, but you are all uncomfortable. Let me help.” She clapped a pair of her hands together, and when she drew them apart, a rainbow appeared. She nudged it, and it wound toward us like a snake, encircling all of us. Within moments, we were clean and dry. The rainbow circled around Durga as well before dissipating, leaving her dry, with coral-red lips and rosy cheeks.
With a crooked finger, the goddess beckoned me closer. Fanindra came alive and slid from my arm to Durga’s lap, then coiled around her wrist.
Durga spoke as she patted the snake’s head. “I miss you too.” She picked up Nilima’s piece of silk and pressed it to her cheek.
Indicating the cloth, she said, “We will talk of this soon. But first, I must meet someone.”
 
; “Yes. This is Mr. Kadam,” I said gesturing to him.
Mr. Kadam came closer and knelt on the ground.
“Please rise and speak with me.”
He stood, pressed his hands together, and bowed.
“I am glad that you have come to see me. You have sacrificed much and will be asked to sacrifice more. Are you willing to do that?”
“I would sacrifice anything for my children.”
The goddess smiled at him. “Well said. If only there were more men, more fathers such as you. I sense your great pride and joy in them. This is the greatest blessing and fulfillment a father can have: to spend your years developing and nurturing your children and then to see the glorious results—strong, noble sons who remember your lessons and who will pass them on to their own. This is what all good fathers wish for. Your name will be remembered with much respect and love.”
A tear dripped down Mr. Kadam’s cheek, and I squeezed his hand. Durga turned her attention to Kishan.
“My ebony one, come closer.”
Kishan approached the goddess with a wide grin. She held out a hand for him to kiss. She smiled at him in return, and, for a second, I thought it was more than just a goddess-to-subject kind of smile. “This is for you,” Durga said. She took a thin necklace I hadn’t seen from her neck and placed it around Kishan’s. A nautilus shell was strung on the end.
“What is it?” he asked.
“It’s a kamandal. Once dipped into the Ocean of Milk, it will never empty.”
Kishan bowed. “Thank you, my Lady.”
“White tiger, come to me.”
As Ren approached, I moved to the other side of Kishan.
“I have something for you as well.” Another arm materialized from behind her back to hand Ren a golden weapon that looked like one of the Sai knives hanging in Mr. Kadam’s sword collection at home. I heard a click as she turned the knife and separated its wicked blades. After joining them again, Durga twisted the handle until the points rolled and the head rotated.