Page 75 of Tiger's Curse
“What about tiger traps?”
Mr. Kadam laughed softly. “Told you about that, did he? Don’t worry, Miss Kelsey. He’s not likely to make the same mistake twice. There aren’t any big animals in this area so the townsfolk won’t look for him. If he keeps his head low there shouldn’t be any trouble.”
An hour later, Mr. Kadam pulled over near a dense part of the jungle at the outskirts of a small town and let Ren out. We continued on to a village that was bustling with vibrantly dressed people and colorful homes and pulled to a stop in front of our hotel.
“It’s not a five star,” Mr. Kadam explained, “but it does have its charms.”
A polished square convenience store window displayed sale items. On top of the store, I saw a giant sign supported by a wood frame. It was painted pink and red and announced the store’s name, which I couldn’t read, and featured an old-fashioned cola bottle, which was universally recognizable no matter what language was printed on it.
Mr. Kadam approached the hotel’s front desk while I wandered around, examining the interesting products for sale. I found American chocolate bars and sodas mixed in with unusual candies and frozen popsicles in exotic flavors.
Mr. Kadam got our keys and bought us two colas and two popsicles. He handed me a white one while he took the orange one. I pulled off the wrapper, warily smelling my frozen treat.
“It’s not something like soy bean and curry is it?”
He grinned. “Take a bite.”
I did and was surprised to find it was coconut flavored.Not as good as Tillamook Mudslide, but not bad at all, I mused.
Mr. Kadam bit off a hunk of his popsicle, held it up with a grin, and said, “Mango.”
The two-story, mint-green hotel had a wrought iron gate, a concrete patio, and flamingo-pink trim. My room had a full-size bed set in the middle of the floor. A colorful curtain hid a small closet with a few wooden hangers. A basin and a pitcher of fresh water as well as a couple of earthenware mugs rested on a table. Instead of air conditioning, a ceiling fan circled lazily overhead, barely stirring the warm air. There was no bathroom. All tenants had to share the facilities on the first floor. The accommodations were sparse, but it still beat the jungle, hands down.
After seeing me settled and giving me my key, Mr. Kadam said he would come retrieve me to take me to dinner in three hours, and then he retreated, leaving me to my privacy.
He was barely out the door when a small Indian woman wearing a bright orange flowing shirt over a white skirt came to launder my dirty clothes. In no time at all, she returned with my washed clothes and hung them on the clothesline outside my door. They flapped quietly in the breeze, and I drowsed listening to the soothing domestic sound.
After a short nap and sketching a few new drawings of Ren as a tiger, I braided my hair and tied it with a red ribbon to match my red shirt. I’d just finished putting on my sneakers when Mr. Kadam knocked on the door.
He took me out to eat at what he said was the best restaurant in town, The Mango Flower. We took a small motorboat taxi across the river and walked to a building that looked like a plantation house that was surrounded by banana, palm, and mango trees.
He led me around the back, and we walked on a paved stone path that led to an amazing view of the river. Heavy wooden tables with smooth polished tops and stone benches were placed all around a patio. Decorated iron lanterns were set on the corner of each table and provided the only light. A brick archway to the right was covered in white jasmine that perfumed the evening air.
“Mr. Kadam, this is lovely!”
“Yes, the man at the front desk recommended it. I thought you would enjoy a good meal since you’ve been eating army rations for a week.”
I let Mr. Kadam order for me since I had no idea what the menu said. We enjoyed a dinner of basmati rice, grilled vegetables, chickensaag, which turned out to be chicken cooked with creamed spinach, a flaky white fish with mango chutney, vegetablepakorafritters, coconut prawns, naan bread, and a kind of lemonade made with a dash of cumin and mint calledjal jeera. I sipped the lemonade, found it was a bit too tangy for my taste, and ended up drinking a lot of water instead.
As we started our meal, I asked Mr. Kadam what more he’d learned about the prophecy.
He wiped his mouth with his napkin, took a sip of water, and said, “I believe what you are seeking is called the Golden Fruit of India.” He leaned in a little closer and lowered his voice. “The tale of the Golden Fruit is a very old legend forgotten by most modern scholars. It was supposedly an object of divine origin given to Hanuman to watch over and protect. Shall I tell you the story?”
I sipped my water and nodded.
“India was once a vast wasteland, completely uninhabitable. It was full of fiery serpents, great deserts, and fierce beasts. Then the gods and goddesses came and the face of the land changed. They created man and gave mankind special gifts, the first one being the Golden Fruit. When it was planted, a mighty tree sprang up, and from the fruit that grew on the tree, seeds were gathered and spread all over India, changing it into a fertile land that would feed millions.”
“But, if the Golden Fruit was planted, wouldn’t it have disappeared or become the roots of the tree?”
“One fruit from that first tree ripened quickly and became golden, and that Golden Fruit was taken and hidden by Hanuman, the half-man, half-monkey king of Kishkindha. As long as the fruit is protected, India’s people will be fed.”
“So that’s the fruit we have to find? What if Hanuman is still protecting it and we can’t get to it?”
“Hanuman protected the fruit by placing it in his fortress and surrounding it with immortal servants who would watch over it. I don’t know much about the kinds of barriers that would be set up to stop you. I’m guessing there will be more than one trap designed to pull you from your course. On the other hand, you are Durga’s favored one, and you have her protection as well.”
I rubbed my hand absentmindedly. It tingled. The henna drawing had faded, but I knew it was still there. I sipped my water.
“Do you really think we’ll find anything? I mean, do you really believe in this stuff?”
