“It’s good. Thank you,” I mumbled while turning the fruit to study it.
“Chinese call this heart fruit. You see?” she said and lifted another fruit to show me its shape. “It look like heart. All fall to ground when see you. Mean you broken heart, bruised. Bad luck to walk past you. Why your heart broken? You pretty girl. Strong back. What wrong? You got no mans?”
I laughed dryly. “No, I have too many mans. It’s a long story.”
“What you mean too many mans? I fix problem. Tell Saachi about the mans. They strong? Pretty?”
“They’re both strong and both very pretty.”
“Ah!” She grinned. “Saachi like story about pretty mans.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Yes. Well, they’re brothers. The older brother is named Ren and the younger is called Kishan.”
She nodded. “Good name.”
“Right. Anyway, the younger brother, Kishan, asked me to marry him.”
I flashed the ring on my finger, and she inspected it closely.
“He want you wife? He a good man? Hard work? Lazy mans no good,” Saachi said.
“Oh, he’s not lazy. He’s very brave. He takes care of me. It’s just that . . . I love his brother too. I was with his brother first. We loved each other and then we were . . . apart for a while. During that time Kishan and I became close.”
“Ah,” she said as if understanding. “Happen my friend. Her man go away trip. Not come back long time. Then she marry other. Later her first mans come home but already too late. He go away again. No come back. Not too late for you. You no marry. You go back first mans. You still love him?”
“Of course I still love him. I never stopped loving him, but I can’t go back. He . . . it’s not safe when I’m with him.”
“What you mean? He hurt you? He beat you? Why you no choose him?”
“No.” In a tiny voice, I whispered, “That’s not why I’m afraid.”
She smacked her lips and shifted to a more comfortable place on the log. “You one crazy girl. You afraid handsome man who love you.”
I groaned, stood up, and started to pace. “The problem is he has a superhero complex. He likes to rush off and save the day.”
“That’s good. Brave mans,” she clucked.
“No. That’s bad. Heroes get killed. Every time he tries to save me, he risks his life. He endangers himself constantly.”
“Bah. Is no problem. Only problem your mind.”
“No!” I whipped around. “Don’t you understand? Mr. Kadam is dead! My parents are dead! If Ren dies, that’s it for me. There’s nothing else. The people I love die. I’m afraid that if I let myself love him, really love him . . . it’s like giving him a death sentence.”
I sat down heavily on the log again. “When the bad guys came for me—he stayed behind and got captured. When he couldn’t give me CPR—he broke up with me and handed me off to Kishan. When an evil man got too close to finding me—he sacrificed his memories of us. Every time something threatens me, he rushes ahead to face it without thinking about what will happen to me if he dies. He was supposed to be a king. Maybe that’s where he gets his overdeveloped sense of duty from.”
“Then easy pick. You choose other brother,” the old woman concluded.
“I want to be a good wife for Kishan. I’ll love him, and we’ll raise a family together. And hopefully that will mean that Ren will stop hurtling himself into the arms of death.”
She clucked her tongue. “Is good but which mans make you happy? Make you feel so much?”
“I feel for both of them.”
“Huh,” she grunted. “You most happy time who?” she insisted while peering at me shrewdly.
I squirmed then admitted softly, “Ren.” Her thick eyebrows rose and she wore an “Ah-Ha” expression. I quickly explained, “But it doesn’t matter. I’m choosing Kishan. I promised Kishan I’d never let him be alone again. And he will, I mean he does, make me very happy. I love Kishan.”
“But your heart is divide.”
“Yes. And the truth of it is . . . most of my heart belongs to Ren. I never stopped loving him. When we were apart, nothing mattered. I was lost. The only thing that kept me going was the hope that someday we’d be together again. That, and Kishan needed me. Ren thinks that as long as I live I’ll be okay. But he’s wrong. If he is killed, and I have to put him into a grave next to Mr. Kadam, I won’t recover.”
I smiled wanly and turned to face the quiet jungle. “You see? I can’t live without him. So to keep him safe, to keep my heart safe, we can’t be together. Do you understand?”
A familiar voice answered, “I think I do.”
The breath froze in my body. Saachi’s voice had changed to a silky, smooth tone, like caramel and honey. It was a voice I was very familiar with. Closing my eyes, I turned to face the man standing behind me.
I took a deep breath. Slowly I opened my eyes, and my anguished heart beat thickly when I saw his expression.
“The Scarf . . .” I said, realizing how he had tricked me into admitting the truth.
“Yes,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion. He lifted his hand to sweep his hair from his face and let out a shaky breath.
I took a step toward him. “Please, try to understand that none of this matters. It doesn’t change anything. I’ve already decided upon a course of action, and I intend to follow through with it.”
“I wanted to know. I needed to know. You’ve kept your true feelings from both of us. Kelsey, why didn’t you share these worries? These fears?”
“Would it have changed anything? Does it really make a difference?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not. But at least all the cards are on the table now.”
I bit my lip. “Are you going to tell him?”
“Don’t you think he needs to know?”
“I don’t see how it will help.”
He stood quietly as he considered me and then sighed. “I suppose for now we can keep this just between the two of us.”
“Thank you.”
Feeling awkward, I gathered up my bag and turned on my heel to head back into town. My skin prickled with the awareness of the man following along silently behind me.
13
barren island
Finally Nilima announced it was time to go. I stood on the dock yawning at four a.m. while Ren and Kishan peeled back a tarp covering a futuristic looking Disneyland type of ride that bobbed in the water.
“What . . . is that?” I asked Nilima with a slight accusatory edge to my voice.
Kishan moved past me as he untied some ropes. “We call it the Skimmer.”
“But what is it?” I replied.
Nilima explained. “It’s a prototype that Rajaram Industries has been developing.”
Ren climbed on top of the structure. “Kadam said he modeled it after the giant jellyfish.”
“But—” I stammered.
“I know. There wasn’t time,” Ren interrupted. “We haven’t figured out how or when he started developing it. But here it is nonetheless.”
Nilima shooed him away. “It’s part submersible, part luxury cruiser but with the full sustainability of a nuclear submarine. We call it a Skimmer because it doesn’t dive as deep as a sub. It’s meant for exploring reefs and shallow waters in comfort, though it can cross oceans as well.”
“It seems a bit small to cross oceans,” I said nervously.
“You’re only seeing the top deck,” Kishan protested. “Most of it’s underwater. It can stay submerged just as long as most modern submarines. We have the latest technology that creates oxygen from the ocean itself. Just wait until you see the bubble.”
“A bubble? What do you mean? Is it safe?”
“He’s referring to the observation bubble in the nose. That is the part modeled after your giant jellyfish, though this glass version is considerably larger. It provides a 360-degree view of the surrounding ocean,” Nilima added. “The engine runs quietly on a top-secret fuel-cell technolo
gy that takes its power from the ocean so as not to disturb under water ecosystems. We also installed a very unusual and not-yet-out-on-the-market type of underwater lighting so passengers can feel more a part of the ocean world. It’s been through numerous trials, Miss Kelsey. We even have a small motorboat on board.”
I put my hands on my hips. “That’s just . . . just amazing,” I marveled.
Ren moved past me, brushing against my shoulder softly without looking. He headed into the Skimmer’s dark interior and disappeared.
“And you’re sure they know how to drive this thing? It’s a pretty expensive underwater bumper car, Nilima.”
“Kelsey, relax. Ren’s been up most of the night practicing with me. We know what we’re doing.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond to that idea so I said nothing but the memory of Nilima dancing in Ren’s arms at the beach party suddenly flooded my mind and I had a hard time focusing. When all three of us were aboard the craft, Nilima waved and hollered out from the pier. “Be careful at Barren Island.”
“Why?”
“The volcano is active,” she shouted.
“What? What! Why doesn’t anybody tell me these things?”
Kishan laughed as he descended the ladder behind me. “Because we know you’ll react like this. Come on. Let me show you your room.”
As I shuffled through the boat, I mumbled about volcanoes and walking on hot lava, and about why Durga’s prophecies never ended at a day spa. I remembered a movie in which the lava ate away a guy’s legs to his knees, and his body melted into the pool of it. All things considered, fighting Lokesh might be easier.
Soon I forgot all about the volcano and marveled at the incredible invention Mr. Kadam had somehow been able to commission before his death. My room was decked out with a mini-fridge, a small sink, and cabinets on one side and a narrow table with a seating nook on the other. I had a luxurious private bath and a king-sized bed.
“Wait until you see your view,” Kishan said proudly.
He walked over to a long set of panels and pushed a button. With a quiet whir, the panels slid back, revealing floor to ceiling glass and it wasn’t until then that I realized that my room was a curved sort of pod. The glass mimicked the lining of the giant jellyfish, but the glass was crystal clear. The lights automatically dimmed, and I stepped forward on the invisible floor, gazing into the Andaman Sea.
“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” Kishan whispered.
“It’s amazing! Are we moving already?” I asked, not being able to tell if a fish swam by us, or we moved past it.
“Yes. Can you feel it?”
I shook my head, impressed by how silent and still the craft was. Mr. Kishan had outdone himself.
Kishan left me to explore the rest of the ship, and rounding a corner, I found the observation bubble. Couches and soft chairs in silver were bolted somehow to the glass floor, and I sat there in silence for a time, surrounded by the ocean. A bit later, I climbed a set of stairs to find the control center where Ren sat in his own mini bubble above the waterline. Ren showed me some of the dials, and I admired the expansive view of the ocean through the curved glass.
“Too bad we can’t enjoy the breeze,” I mentioned.
Ren smiled softly and pushed a button. A section of the glass dome above us shifted and slid away. Instant sunroof.
I headed down some steps to the surface deck of our futuristic sci-fi craft. The wind blew the hair away from Ren’s handsome face just as we rounded a section of beach and the city of Port Blair came into sight. Soon the only lights I could see were our own running lights and the fading stars.
Ren stood stiffly at his post and seemed to be doing a good job of ignoring me. I decided to watch the sunrise and made my way carefully to the front of the ship where I sat and let the ocean spray tickle my feet. After an hour, I was rewarded with a breathtaking view. The water turned pink, then gold, and then, as if I willed it into appearing, the round sun burst from the sea.
For some reason it made me think of Mr. Kadam. I smiled sadly and wondered what interesting facts he’d share if he were here. I sat there for another half hour, letting the sun warm my skin while I breathed the fresh scent of the ocean.
Ren and Kishan took turns steering the boat. A few hours later, we skirted Neill Island, then cruised by Havelock Islands, and headed out to open ocean. The weather was nice, and we made good time traveling the sixty-five nautical miles to Barren Island. As it came into view late in the afternoon, I could see that the volcano was definitely still active. Small wisps of steam and spirals of smoke rose into the air from the caldera. I marveled at the wide black path of cooled lava that had oozed from the center and had either punched or melted a hole through the mountain wall before sliding into the sea at a fairly gentle slope. It reminded me of a fried egg after the yolk had been broken.
Though a huge part of the island was covered in black ashes, there were still enough green trees and small shrubs around the circumference to see it had been beautiful once. There were no beaches; the mountain cliffs seemed to rise straight up out of the sea.
The three of us stood on the top deck looking at the island, and with a few murmured words, Ren and Kishan decided to drop anchor on the western side, upwind, where there would be less smoke. They both agreed that the best way to access the island would be hiking over the blackened lava bed and that we would start early the next morning.
As soon as Kishan wrapped his arms around me, Ren descended to the lower deck. The air was cool, causing goose bumps to shoot across my arms. I wrapped my arms around Kishan’s waist, snuggled against his warm chest, and said, “This is really nice.”
He grinned and brought his lips to mine. One hand slid into my hair and cupped the back of my head while the other rested gently on my neck. After a moment his fingertips began to massage the nape of my neck. I closed my eyes and let myself get lost in his kiss.
It was warm and sweet, and on his lips, I tasted just a hint of the salty sea. He stroked my jaw and after tilting my head slightly, his kiss deepened. I held onto him, knowing moments like these might not happen for a while once we started into the volcano.
He smiled at me, obviously pleased with my response, and pulled a small box from his pocket.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Merry Christmas, Kells.”
“What? It’s Christmas?”
“Well, tomorrow is. It’s Christmas Eve. Did you forget?”
“I did. It’s hard to remember Christmas when you’re in a tropical zone.” I picked up the present hesitantly. “Um, Kishan, I’m so sorry. I didn’t remember to get you anything.”
He pulled me toward him, cupped my face in his hands and gave me a soft kiss. “You agreed to be my wife, Kelsey. There’s nothing else on this Earth that I want.”
I teased him gently, “You’re kind of a smooth talker.”
“Hopefully that works in my favor,” he said with a grin and a twinkle in his golden eyes.
Inside the box, I found an ancient-looking golden key. Raising an eyebrow, my mouth quirking up at the corner, I asked, “And what, pray tell, does this key unlock?”
“Technically nothing anymore. It used to open the treasure room of our old palace. Now it’s more of a symbol of a home. Or homes. Wherever you want to live. I found it when we were looking through my parents’ things. We can rebuild the jungle home where my parents and Kadam are buried, or we can buy a new home in the United States or India or we can do both or all three. It’s nothing we have to decide on right now, but I know having a home is important to you. Leaving our old home will be hard, but we’ll make new memories together, and,” he laid his palm against my neck, “I’ll make you happy, Kelsey, I promise.”
“I know you will.” I leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you for my present.”
“You’re welcome.” Kishan strung the old key onto the chain around my neck where it rested next to the amulet. “Someday,” he said as he touched the key where it lay against
my skin. “Someday we’ll build a home.”
He kissed me again in a long, lingering way, then abruptly turned me around and gave me a gentle nudge. “But first, I’m going to beat you at a game of Parcheesi.”
“Deal.”
I laughed and headed to retrieve the game from my room—only to discover another present. On my bed, Ren had left a gift carefully wrapped in golden paper. Inside was a wooden music box with a painted white tiger identical to Ren on the top.
I lifted the lid and my song began to play—the one Ren had written for me when we were apart, the one he struggled with when he lost his memory. I listened to the familiar notes, which were sad at first, and gasped when it continued past the point I remembered. The sad music of separation changed. I could almost hear the hope, the determination, in the sound. It crescendoed in a burst of happiness until the notes faded like twinkling stars at dawn. I shut the lid and closed my eyes.
I was so wrapped up with the music box that I almost didn’t notice that Ren had also left me a note with the sprig of a little plant on my bed.
Kelsey,
You might think I am presumptuous in assuming the end of our song will be a joyful one, but I still believe there’s a happy ending for us, that the promise in the song will someday be realized. I’ll just have to practice patience until then. My heart is in your hands, take care of it for I cannot live without it.
Mistletoe
by Walter de la Mare
Sitting under the mistletoe
(Pale-green, fairy mistletoe),
One last candle burning low,
All the sleepy dancers gone,
Just one candle burning on,
Shadows lurking everywhere:
Someone came, and kissed me there.
Tired I was; my head would go
Nodding under the mistletoe
(Pale-green, fairy mistletoe),
No footsteps came, no voice, but only,
Just as I sat there, sleepy, lonely,
Stooped in the still and shadowy air
Lips unseen—and kissed me there.
Merry Christmas, iadala.
—Ren
With trembling fingers, I pressed the page and the mistletoe into my journal. I stood there fingering the leaves of the plant, imagining Ren dressed in a tux and yanking me under the mistletoe for a kiss. After a few seconds of delicious fantasy, I mentally rebuffed myself.
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