Tiger's Curse

by Colleen Houck

  He stretched a finger to the snake’s head. I winced, hoping she wouldn’t reanimate, but she remained frozen. He seemed transfixed by the objects.

  I tugged on his arm. “Come on, Mr. Kadam, let’s go. I’ll tell you all about it in the car. Besides, I’m starving.”

  Mr. Kadam laughed, elated and jubilant. Carefully wrapping the gada in a blanket, he stowed it in the back of the car. Then he came around to my side of the Jeep and opened the door for me and Ren. We climbed in. I put my seatbelt on, and we drove off toward Hampi. Durga had spoken, and we had a golden fruit to obtain. We were ready.

  19

  hampi

  On the ride back to the city, Mr. Kadam listened with rapt attention to every detail of our experience at Durga’s temple. He rattled off dozens of questions. He asked for details that I hadn’t even considered important at the time. For example, he wanted to know what the other three pillars in the temple showed, and I didn’t think I even looked at them.

  Mr. Kadam was so absorbed in the story that he drove straight to the hotel and forgot to drop Ren in the jungle. We doubled back, and I walked Ren out. Mr. Kadam was happy to stay in the Jeep and examine the gada more closely.

  I walked through the tall grass with Ren all the way to the tree line, bent down, hugged him, and whispered, “You can stay in my room again at the hotel if you like. I’ll save you some dinner.” I kissed the top of his head and left him there staring after me.

  For dinner, Mr. Kadam used the hotel kitchen to whip us up some veggie omelets with pan-fried toast and papaya juice. I was starving, and, looking at the other foods emerging from the kitchen, I felt very appreciative that Mr. Kadam liked to cook. Another guest was boiling something in a large pot, and the smell left something to be desired. For all I knew, she was boiling the laundry.

  I ate a plate full and then asked Mr. Kadam for seconds to take back to my room, in case I got hungry that night. He was more than happy to oblige and luckily didn’t ask questions.

  I left the gada in Mr. Kadam’s care, but discovered the snake armlet wouldn’t budge from my arm, no matter how I tried to slip, pull, and yank it off. Mr. Kadam worried that people would try to steal it from me.

  “Believe me,” I said, “I would love to take Fanindra off. But if you saw the way she got on my arm, you’d want her to remain inanimate too.”

  Squelching that thought quickly, I chastised myself for forgetting that Fanindra was a gift and a divine blessing, and I whispered a quick apology to her.

  When I returned to my room, I changed into my pajamas, which took some doing. Lucky for me, I had a short-sleeved top. I tucked the top of the sleeve into Fanindra’s coil so her head wasn’t covered and picked up my toothbrush. I looked at Fanindra in the mirror while I brushed my teeth.

  Tapping the snake lightly on the head, I mumbled with my toothbrush in my mouth, “Well, Fanindra, I hope you like water because tomorrow morning I plan to take a shower, and if you’re still on my arm, then you’re going with me.”

  The snake remained frozen but her hard eyes glittered back at me from the mirror in the dim room.

  After brushing my teeth, I clicked on the ceiling fan, set Ren’s dinner on the dresser, and climbed into bed. The snake’s body dug into my side, making it hard to get comfortable. I thought I’d never be able to sleep with that hard piece of jewelry wrapped around my arm, but, eventually, I drifted off.

  I woke in the middle of the night to Ren’s soft scratching on my door. Anxious to be close, he ate quickly and then wrapped his arms around me, and pulled me onto his lap. He pressed his cheek against my forehead and started talking about Durga and the gada. He seemed excited about what the gada could do. I nodded sleepily and shifted, resting my head against his chest.

  I felt safe snuggled in his arms and enjoyed listening to the warm timbre of his voice as he spoke quietly. Later, he began humming softly, and I felt the strong beat of his heart keeping rhythm against my cheek.

  After a while, he stopped and moved his arms while I issued a sleepy protest. Rearranging my limp body, he lifted me in his arms and cuddled me close. Half asleep, I mumbled that I could walk but he ignored me, placed me on my bed, and gently straightened my limbs. I felt him brush a kiss on my forehead and cover me with my quilt, and then I was out.

  Sometime later, I opened my eyes with a start. The golden snake was gone! I rushed to turn on the light and saw her resting on the nightstand. She was still frozen, but now she was coiled up with her head resting on top of her body. I watched her suspiciously for a moment, but she didn’t move.

  I shuddered, thinking of a live snake slithering over my body while I slept. Ren lifted his tiger head and looked at me with concern. I patted him and told him I was fine, and that Fanindra had moved during the night. I thought about asking Ren to sleep between the snake and me, but I decided that I needed to be brave. Instead, I turned on my side and rolled myself up in my quilt tightly to prevent any odd things from happening to my limbs without my knowledge.

  I also mentioned to Fanindra that I would appreciate it if she wouldn’t slither up and down my body when I wasn’t aware of it and said that I would prefer it not to happen at all if she could help it.

  She didn’t move or blink a green eye.

  Do snakes blink? Pondering that deep question, I rolled back on my side and fell asleep easily.

  The next morning, Ren was gone and Fanindra hadn’t moved, so I decided it was the perfect time for a shower. I was back in my room, towel-drying my hair, when I noticed that Fanindra had changed shape again. This time, she was twisted in loops as before, ready to be placed on my arm.

  I picked her up gently and slid her unyielding body up the length of my arm where she fit comfortably. This time, when I tried to pull her off, she slipped down easily.

  Pushing her back up, I said, “Thank you, Fanindra. It will be much easier if I can take you off when I need to.”

  I couldn’t be sure, but I thought that I saw her emerald eyes glow softly for a moment.

  I was just finishing plaiting my hair and tying it with a green ribbon to match Fanindra’s eyes when I heard a knock. Mr. Kadam was standing outside the door with freshly washed hair and a trimmed beard.

  “Ready to go, Miss Kelsey?” he asked, taking my bag.

  We checked out of our hotel and drove over to the wooded area to pick up Ren. We waited for several minutes, then finally he shot out of the trees and ran up to meet the car. I laughed nervously.

  “Overslept a little today, did you?”

  He had probably just run the entire way back. I gave him a meaningful glance, hoping he understood my you-really-should-have-left-earlier look.

  On the way to Hampi, we stopped at a fruit stand and got a smoothie, called a lassi, and a grainy breakfast bar for each of us. When I was halfway done with my drink, I offered it to Ren. He stuck his head between the front seats and lapped up the rest of my smoothie. His long tongue slurped out what was left of my shake and he also made sure to lick my hand “accidentally” every other lick.

  I laughed. “Ren! Thanks a lot. Now my hands are all sticky.”

  He leaned over and started licking my hands with more enthusiasm, swirling his pink tongue between my fingers.

  “Okay! Okay! That tickles. Thanks, but that’s enough.”

  Mr. Kadam laughed heartily, then reached over to open the glove box and handed me a travel pack of antibacterial hand wipes.

  As I wiped the tiger saliva off my hands, I threatened, “See if I ever share a milkshake with you again.”

  I heard a harrumph come from the back seat. When I looked back at him a moment later, he was the picture of an innocent tiger, but I knew better.

  Mr. Kadam indicated that we were nearing Hampi and pointed to a large structure in the distance. He explained, “That tall, conical structure you see ahead is called the Virupaksha Temple. It’s the most prominent building in Hampi, which was originally settled two thousand years ago. We’ll be passing Sugriva’s cave soo
n, where it is said the jewels of Sita were hidden.”

  “Are the jewels still there?”

  “The jewels were never discovered, which is also one of the reasons the city has been sacked so often by treasure hunters,” Mr. Kadam stated, pulled off to the side of the road, and let Ren out. “There will be too many tourists on the site during the day, so Ren can wait here while we walk the grounds and look for clues. We will return for him in the early evening.”

  We parked in front of the gate. Mr. Kadam led me to the first and largest structure, the Virupaksha Temple. It was about ten stories tall and resembled a giant upside-down waffle cone. Pointing ahead, he illustrated its architecture.

  “This temple has courtyards, shrines, and gateways in all of those side buildings. Inside, there is an inner sanctum with pillared halls and cloisters, which are long, arched corridors open to a central courtyard. Come, I will show you.”

  As we wandered the temple, Mr. Kadam reminded that we were looking for a passageway to Kishkindha, a world ruled by monkeys.

  “I’m not sure what it will look like, but perhaps there will be another hand print marking. Durga’s prophecy also mentioned snakes.”

  More snakes, I thought, cringing. A doorway to a mythical world? Things just kept getting stranger and stranger the deeper I get into this adventure.

  As the day progressed, I became so dazzled by the ruins that I completely forgot our purpose in being there. Everything I saw was amazing. We stopped at another structure called the Stone Chariot. It was a stonework carving of a miniaturized temple set on wheels. The chariot’s wheels were shaped to look like lotus flowers and could even rotate like normal tires.

  Another building, called the Vithala Temple, had beautiful statues of women dancing. We listened in on a tour guide who explained the significance of the temple’s fifty-six pillars. He said, “When struck, the pillars vibrate and produce sounds exactly like musical notes. A truly skilled musician could even play a song on them.”

  We stood still for a moment to listen to the columns hum and vibrate as he softly tapped the stone. The magical musical tones thrummed through us, lifted into the air, and slowly faded into nothing. The sound disappeared long before the vibrations stopped.

  We stopped at another building called the Queen’s Bath. Mr. Kadam pointed out its features. “The Queen’s Bath was a place the king and his wives could relax. There used to be apartments surrounding the center. Balconies jutted out from the rectangular buildings, and the women would sit, look over the bathing pool, and relax. An aqueduct pumped water into the brick pool, and there used to be a small flower garden off to the side, over here, where the women could lounge and have picnics.

  “The pool was about fifty feet long and six feet deep. Perfume was poured into the water to make it more fragrant, and flower petals were strewn across the surface. Lotus-shaped fountains surrounded the pool as well. You can still see a few of them. A canal surrounded the entire structure and the building was heavily guarded so that only the king could enter and frolic with the women. All other would-be suitors were kept out.”

  I frowned at him. “Umm, if the king was the only man to enter, then how is it that you know so many details about the ladies’ pool?”

  He stroked his beard and grinned.

  Shocked, I whispered, “Mr. Kadam! You didn’t break into the king’s harem, did you?”

  He shrugged his shoulders lightly. “It was a rite of passage for a young man to try to break into the Queen’s Bath, and several died trying. I happen to be one of the brave few who lived through the experience.”

  I laughed. “Well, I have to say, my whole opinion of you has changed. Breaking into a harem! Who would’ve thought?” I walked a few more steps and then spun around. “Wait a minute. A rite of passage, did you say? Did Ren and Kishan—?”

  He paused and raised his hands. “It might be better if you asked them yourself. I wouldn’t want to say the wrong thing.”

  I grunted, “Hmm. That question has definitely moved to the top of my list for Ren.”

  We moved on to tour the House of Victory, the Lotus Mahal, and the Mahanavami Dibba, but we didn’t see anything particularly interesting or outstanding there. The Noblemen’s Palace was a place for diplomatic meetings and high-ranking officials to be wined and dined. The King’s Balance was a building used by the kings to weigh gold, money, and grains in trade, and was also used to distribute goods to the poor.

  My favorite place was the Elephant Stables. A long, cavernous structure, it had housed eleven elephants in its heyday. Mr. Kadam explained that those elephants were not used for battle, but for ritual. They were the king’s private stock—highly trained and used for various ceremonies. Often, they were dressed in golden cloth and jewels, and their skin was painted. The building had ten domes of different sizes and shapes that rested on the top of each elephant’s apartment. He explained that other elephants were kept also to do menial labor and construction, but that the private stock would have been special.

  A large statue of Ugra Narasimha was the last thing that we saw. When I asked Mr. Kadam what he represented, he didn’t respond. He walked around the structure, looking at it from many different angles while thinking and mumbling quietly to himself.

  I shaded my eyes and studied the top of it. Trying to get Mr. Kadam’s attention, I repeated, “Who is he? He’s a pretty ugly fellow.”

  This time, Mr. Kadam replied, “Ugra Narasimha is a half-man, half-lion god, though he can assume other forms as well. He was supposed to look frightening and impressive. He is most famous for slaying a powerful demon king. What’s interesting is the demon king could not be killed either on earth or in space, during day or night, not inside or outside, by neither human nor animal, nor by any object that was dead or alive.”

  “You sure seem to have a lot of unslayable demons running around in India. So how did he kill the demon king?”

  “Ah, Ugra Narasimha was very clever. He picked up the demon king, placed him on his lap, and then killed him at twilight, on a doorstep, with his claws.”

  I laughed. “Sounds like Miss Scarlett, in the conservatory, with a candlestick.”

  Mr. Kadam chuckled. “Indeed, it does.”

  “Hmm, day or night, that’s twilight, inside or outside was the doorstep, and he was half human and half lion, so that covers animal/human requirement. Not on earth or space is on his lap . . . what was the other one?”

  He answered, “He could not be killed by an object that was dead or alive, specifically, animate or inanimate, so he used his claws.”

  “Huh. That is pretty clever.”

  “I’m impressed, Kelsey. You figured out most of those on your own. If you look closely, you can see that he is sitting on the coils of a seven-headed snake, and their heads are arching above him, hoods open, to provide shade for his head.”

  I grimaced. “Uh-huh, those are snakes alright.” I twitched my arm uncomfortably and peeked over at my golden snake. Fanindra was still a hard piece of jewelry.

  Mr. Kadam started muttering to himself again and spent a long time examining the Ugra Narasimha statue.

  “What are you looking for, Mr. Kadam?”

  “Part of the prophecy says ‘let serpents guide you.’ Before, I thought it might only mean your golden snake, but perhaps the plural is important.”

  I joined him in looking for a secret doorway or a handprint like the one I found before, but didn’t see anything. We tried to be as casual as the other tourists as we studied the statue.

  Finally giving up, Mr. Kadam said, “I think it might be a good idea if you and Ren return here this evening. I have a suspicion that the entrance to Kishkindha might be here by this statue.”

  We brought a picnic dinner to Ren. I tore off pieces of Tandoori chicken for him, which he carefully nibbled from my hand, and told him about the different buildings we’d investigated at the temple.

  Mr. Kadam explained to us that the ruins were closed to visitors at sundown unless there wa
s a special event taking place.

  “Most evenings, guards are standing watch, looking out for treasure hunters. In fact,” he elaborated, “treasure hunters are responsible for much of the destruction you see in the ruins now. They seek gold and jewels, but those things were taken from Hampi long ago. The treasures of Hampi now are the very things they are destroying.”

  Mr. Kadam felt that it would be best if he dropped us off at a location on the other side of the hills because there were no roads leading into Hampi, and it wasn’t guarded as well.

  “But if there aren’t any roads, then how will we get there?” I asked, fearing Mr. Kadam’s answer.

  He grinned. “Off-roading is one of the reasons I bought the Jeep, Miss Kelsey.” He rubbed his hands together animatedly. “It will be exciting!”

  I groaned and muttered, “Fantastic. I feel nauseous already.”

  “You will need to carry the gada in your backpack, Kelsey. Do you think you can manage?”

  “Sure. It’s not that heavy, really.”

  He stopped what he was doing and looked at me, puzzled.

  “What do you mean it’s not heavy? It is actually quite heavy.” He pulled it free from its wrapping and hefted it with two hands, straining his muscles to hold it.

  Puzzled, I mumbled, “That’s weird. I remember it being light for its size.” I walked over and took the gada from him, and we were both shocked that I could easily lift it with one hand. He took it back and tried to lift it with one hand, and he again faltered under its weight.

  “To me it feels like fifty pounds.”

  I took it back again. “For me it feels like maybe five to ten pounds.”

  “Amazing,” he marveled.

  Shocked, I added, “I had no idea it actually weighed that much.”

  Mr. Kadam took the weapon from me again, wrapped it in a soft blanket, and then placed it into my backpack. We hopped back into the Jeep, and he drove us along a back road, which changed to a dirt road, which changed to gravel, which changed to two lines in the dust, and then disappeared altogether.