Page 39 of Tiger's Voyage
“So you’re ready to go? Just like that? Don’t we have a lot more research to do first?” I asked.
“We will be traveling fairly slowly, and I’ve already stocked the boat’s library with all the research materials we need, so we can work as we set sail. The yacht is capable of making twenty knots and could get us there within a few days if we traveled by night, but I prefer to go much slower. There are stops we must make along the way, to a temple of Durga, for example, and I also want you to have plenty of time for practice dives before we get to the City of the Seven Pagodas.”
I fidgeted nervously. “So when do we leave?”
“After the Star Festival next week,” Mr. Kadam stated, as calm as ever.
Ren sat up. “Do they still celebrate that here?”
Mr. Kadam smiled. “Yes, though the traditions have changed somewhat over the years.”
“What’s the Star Festival?” I interrupted.
Ren turned to me and explained, “It’s the Chinese equivalent of Valentine’s Day.”
“And India has a festival for that?”
Mr. Kadam clarified, “Japan and even Brazil celebrate a similar holiday. It’s not exactly the same as Valentine’s Day in America. The festival that takes place here is the remnant of a holiday begun by this family.”
Kishan added, “My mother loved the holiday and wanted to celebrate it in India, so my father established it in his kingdom. Apparently, they’ve been doing so ever since.”
“What happens during the Star Festival? What are the traditions?”
Mr. Kadam stood. “I believe I’ll let Ren and Kishan tell you about that. Goodnight, Miss Kelsey.”
“Goodnight.”
I looked from Ren to Kishan and waited for one of them to say something. They stared at each other. I elbowed Kishan. “Well? Tell me.”
“Keep in mind that I haven’t attended the celebration for a few centuries, but if I remember correctly, the city has a party with fireworks, food, and lanterns. The girls all dress up. There’s dancing and music.”
“Oh. So it’s not like an American version of Valentine’s Day? Is it about love? Are there chocolates, flowers, and cards?”
“Well, there are flowers and cards, but they’re not store-bought.”
Ren interrupted. “It’s also an opportunity for someone to wish for the person they want to marry.”
“But I thought most of your marriages were arranged.”
“They are,” Kishan said. “It’s just an innocent way for a maiden to express herself. I’m curious to see how the customs have changed since our time. I think you’ll enjoy yourself,bilauta.” He squeezed my hand and winked at me.
Ren cleared his throat. “In China it’s called the Night of Sevens and is supposed to occur on the seventh day in the seventh month of the year, but the date isn’t as important as the stars. The celebration occurs when the stars Orihime and Hikoboshi align, so when you write your wish, you are literally wishing on a star. I don’t know the English names for those stars. You’d have to ask Mr. Kadam.”
“What am I supposed to wear?”
“Do you trust me?”
I sighed. “Yes. Your taste in clothing is usually better than mine.”
“Good. I’ll get you something appropriate. If the celebration is true to tradition, a maiden stays near her parents and is allowed to be escorted to certain activities or games only with the permission of her father. It would be customary for you and Nilima to remain close to Kadam. However, because you’re not Indian it really wouldn’t matter. You could roam freely if you wish.”
“Hmm. I’ll think about it.”
The next week was bustling with activity. Mr. Kadam and I went through the library book by book, packing up anything we thought might be useful on the boat. I researched on the Internet for hours about the dragons of the five oceans. I also spent a lot of time with Kishan and Ren, though more with the latter.
Ren was beginning to seem like his old self. We read together often. He liked being in the same room with me, albeit at a distance. He frequently asked me to sit with him while he played music or wrote poetry, and he’d ask my opinion about certain phrases or lyrics.
He teased and joked with me and tried to hold my hand but it seemed that there was no building up a tolerance, despite his efforts. It hurt him and he got sick every time. He tried not to let it show, but I knew. Still, he seemed happy to be with me, and I contented myself with whatever time I could spend with him.
