Page 27 of Tiger's Destiny
Ren pulled the sword from Mr. Kadam’s chest and violently hurled the loathsome weapon into the jungle. Then he fell to his knees and sunk his face into his hands. The three of us sat this way until we heard a thumping sound in the sky.
Confused, I wondered briefly if it was a Stymphalian bird, but then sudden gusts of wind shook the trees and a spotlight touched the ground. I looked up to see the dark outline of a helicopter landing. Footsteps rushed toward us, and Nilima fell onto the ground next to me, crying out in grief and sorrow. Cradling her grandfather’s head on her lap, she rocked back and forth. After some time, the night became silent again.
Kishan and Nilima spoke quietly in Hindi. The two of them moved around the camp, gathering our things and stowing them in the helicopter. Kishan retrieved the Scarf from our backpack. Tenderly, he placed Mr. Kadam’s arms over his chest, touched his forehead, and murmured words to the shimmering material.
Slowly, the Scarf twisted and shot out dark threads to wrap around Mr. Kadam’s body. I watched in a mental fog as it created a burial shroud. When this was done, Kishan shook Ren to get his attention. He spoke in Hindi, and together they picked up Mr. Kadam’s body.
I heard the engine of the helicopter start up again. I knew I needed to move, but I didn’t seem able to. When Ren knelt before me, his eyes bright with tears, I felt my own well up again. I put my arms around his neck, and he swept me into his embrace and cried with me for a moment before carrying me to the helicopter. An emotional Nilima adjusted a few instruments, wiped her eyes, and took off.
As we rose into the night sky, I stared despondently at the wrapped form placed at our feet. Ren held me and rubbed my back, but his touch couldn’t stop my trembling. At some point on that long journey home, he changed into his tiger form and rested his head in my lap. Every once in a while he growled softly, sorrowfully. I buried my face in his fur and wrapped my arms around his neck. Rhythmically, I stroked his back over and over, and found solace for my sadness while comforting my tiger. Eventually, I slept.
When we landed on the practice field near the house, it was two o’clock in the morning. Ren and Kishan carried Mr. Kadam’s shrouded body to the dojo while Nilima and I walked upstairs. I slumped into the nearest chair, like a broken doll and when she brought me an icy lemon water, I started crying again.
The boys returned just as the front doorbell rang. Mr. Kadam’s old pilot, Murphy, who had flown us over the Baiga camp, was standing at the doorstep.
“I’m sorry to call at such an hour, but Kadam asked me to come here at this exact time,” Murphy explained. “A few weeks ago, Kadam gave me detailed instructions to fly here and deliver a letter. He said I was to fly you somewhere else after you read the letter. Is everything alright?”
“Please, won’t you come inside?” Nilima asked numbly. “I’m afraid Mr. Kadam has . . . has died.”
Murphy’s face crumpled, and with a shaking hand, he gave Ren an envelope bearing Mr. Kadam’s familiar script.
We all sat down in the living room as Ren skimmed through and read, “I would like to be placed in a simple wooden casket and buried next to Ren and Kishan’s parents. A pressed suit is hanging in the entry-way closet.” Ren paused. “He speaks so matter-of-factly about his own death.”
Nilima patted Murphy’s hand.
He gripped her fingers and said, “I’m so sorry, Miss. If there is anything I can do, please let me know. He was a remarkable man.”
“Yes, he was.” Her voice broke, and then we sat silently.
Time slowed. My mind was foggy and thick, and I sat there dull, heavy, and filled with sorrow, hardly listening to the rest of Mr. Kadam’s letter. I looked up when Kishan knelt by my chair and stroked my cheek.
He spoke softly, “Murphy’s going to fly us to the jungle where we first met. In Kadam’s letter, he wrote that his casket is already there. He wanted to be laid to rest near Deschen’s garden, so he would be remembered at the place where our lives came full circle. I’m not sure what that means but we will honor his wishes. If you don’t want to go, you can remain behind. Would you prefer to stay here?”
I shook my head. “No. I want to go, but I need to find something more appropriate to wear to his funeral.”
Somehow I made my way upstairs and washed my face and hands. I walked into my closet and discarded several items of clothing. Angrily, I tore through my closet, ripping clothes off hangers and throwing them violently across the room. I shredded the plastic wrapping on new clothes, then wadded the skirts into balls and pitched them at the wall.
When that wasn’t satisfying, I started on the shoes. I picked out the heaviest and hurled them. They each hit the wall with a gratifying bang. When I ran out of ammunition, I used my fists. I punched the wall over and over again until I tore the skin across my knuckles. Tears streamed down my face, and I collapsed into a wounded heap on top of my pile of shoes.
A shadow fell over my body. “What can I do?” Ren asked. He sat on the floor of my closet and pulled me onto his lap.
I sniffed. “I don’t have anything to wear.”
“I can see that. Someone destroyed your closet while we were away.”
I laughed wetly and then sobbed. “Did . . . did I ever tell you about my parents’ funeral? I wanted to give the eulogy. I was going to talk about my mom and dad, but when the time came, I couldn’t say a word.”
His fingertips wiped tears from my eyes. “That’s a lot to expect of a traumatized teenager.”
“Iwantedto do it. I wanted everyone at that funeral to know what great parents I had. I wanted them to know how much I’d needed them. How important they were to me. I wanted them to know that I’d loved them.”
He pushed the hair away from my sticky cheek and tucked it behind my ear.
“When the time came, I dissolved. I stood there staring at those two caskets and couldn’t say one word. They deserved more than that. They deserved to be remembered and loved and talked about, and I let them down.”
“I’m sure they wouldn’t have thought that.”
“That was the last thing I could do to honor them, and I screwed it up. I don’t want to do the same thing to Mr. Kadam.”
