Tiger's Curse

by Colleen Houck

  Sinking into that tub was the best feeling in the whole world. Well, the second best feeling. I was annoyed that the memory of kissing Ren popped into my mind, and I quickly dismissed it, or tried to. The more I relaxed in the tub, the more my mind seemed to dwell on it. It was like a song that got stuck in my head, and, no matter what I did, it kept coming back to me.

  The kiss played over and over. Despite my best efforts to eradicate it, I felt myself smile at the memory. Ugh! What’s that about? I shook myself out of my daydream angrily, and reluctantly climbed out of the tub. After I dried off and pulled on a pair of shorts and a clean T-shirt, I sat down to brush out my hair. It took a long time to get all the tangles out. The brushing was soothing. It reminded me of my mom. I sat back on my king-sized bed and just enjoyed the feel of pulling my hairbrush through clean, wet hair.

  Later, I ventured to the sitting room and found Mr. Kadam reading a newspaper.

  “Hello, Miss Kelsey. Are you feeling refreshed?”

  “I feel so much better; I can’t even begin to tell you.”

  “Good. There’s a late dinner under the cover over there. I took the liberty of ordering for you.”

  I lifted the lid and found turkey, cornbread stuffing, cranberry relish, peas, and mashed potatoes.

  “Wow! How did you get them to do this?”

  He shrugged. “I thought you might like something American for a change, and that’s about as American as it gets. There’s even apple pie for dessert.”

  I picked up my dinner plate and the glass full of icy lemon water that he knew I liked and sat down next to him with my legs tucked under me to eat.

  “Did you eat already?”

  “Yes, an hour or so ago. Don’t worry about me. Enjoy your dinner.”

  I dug in and was pleasantly stuffed before I’d even had the apple pie. I swirled a piece of roll in my gravy and said, “Mr. Kadam? I want to tell you something. I feel guilty about not telling you before, but I think you should know.”

  I took a deep breath and went on. “Ren was a man the whole time we were in Kishkindha.”

  He set down his newspaper. “That’s interesting. But why couldn’t you tell me this before?”

  I shrugged a shoulder and hedged, “I don’t know. Things weren’t exactly . . . smooth between us these past few days.”

  His eyes twinkled as he laughed with understanding. “Now things make sense. I wondered why you were acting differently around him. Ren can be . . . difficult, if he chooses.”

  “Stubborn, you mean. And demanding. And,” I looked out the window at the nighttime city lights and muttered, “lots of other things.”

  He leaned forward and took one of my hands in his. “I see. Don’t fret, Miss Kelsey. I’m surprised that you’ve accomplished so much in such a short time. It’s hard enough to undertake a perilous journey, let alone with someone you are just getting to know and are not sure if you can trust. Even the best of companions can have falling-outs when under such great duress as you two have been. I’m sure that this is just a temporary setback in your friendship.”

  Our friendship was not exactly the issue. Still, Mr. Kadam’s words gave me some comfort. Maybe, now that we were out of that situation, we could talk it out and apply good ol’ common sense to the problem. Perhaps I could be the bigger person. After all, Ren was just starting to communicate with people again. If I could just explain to him how the world worked, I was sure he would understand and be able to move on to a place where we could still be friends.

  He continued, “It’s remarkable that he was able to maintain human form the entire time there. Perhaps it has something to do with time stopping.”

  “Do you really think time stopped in Kishkindha?”

  “Perhaps time just moves differently there, but I do know that you were gone in our time for only a short while.”

  I nodded, agreeing with his assessment. Feeling better after talking and also happy that I had told Mr. Kadam the truth, I said that I was going to read for a while and then go sleep for a long time with a soft pillow. He nodded and asked me to place all my clothing in the laundry bag so it could be cleaned overnight.

  Heading back to my suite, I began to gather my things. I threw in my clothes and tennis shoes too. Also, I carefully unrolled my quilt, removed the Golden Fruit, and wrapped it in a small towel. I picked up my sad-looking, filthy quilt and popped it into the laundry bag as well.

  Placing the laundry bag outside my door, I hopped into the huge bed, luxuriating in the soft, plush sheets. I sunk into the goose-down pillows, and fell into a deep, relaxing sleep.

  The next morning, I smiled and stretched out all my limbs as far as they could go and still didn’t even reach the edge of the bed. I brushed out my hair again and pulled it up into a loose ponytail.

  Mr. Kadam was just sitting down to a breakfast of hash browns, toast, and Spanish omelets. I joined him, sipped my orange juice, and chatted about how exciting it was to be heading back home.

  Our laundry was brought back pressed and folded as if brand new. Taking some clothes out of the pile to wear, I transferred all the rest of the folded clothing to my other bag. When I got to my quilt, I stopped for a moment to smell the lemony soap they’d used and inspected it carefully for damage. Faded and old as it was, it was still holding together well. I sent a silent thanks to my grandmother. They don’t make them anymore like you did, Gran.

  I placed my folded quilt on the bottom of my backpack and put the gada on the side standing straight up. I’d taken the gada out to clean the night before, but I was surprised to find it shiny and spotless, as if it had never been used. Next, I set Fanindra carefully on top of my quilt and put the Golden Fruit right in the middle of her coils. Then I zipped it up, leaving just a part open so Fanindra could breathe. I didn’t know if she actually breathed, but it made me feel better anyway.

  Soon it was time to leave. I felt happy, refreshed, and perfectly content until we pulled up to the side of the road, and I saw him and he wasn’t a tiger. Ren had been waiting for us, wearing his usual white clothing and a toothy grin. Mr. Kadam walked over and hugged him. I could hear their voices, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. I did hear Mr. Kadam laugh as he clapped Ren on the back rather loudly. He was obviously very happy about something.

  Then Ren changed back into a tiger and jumped into the car. He curled up for a nap in the back while I pointedly ignored him and selected a book to keep myself occupied on the long drive.

  Mr. Kadam explained that we would have to stop at another hotel on the way back and that we would be driving all day. I told him that it was fine with me. I had plenty of books to read because Mr. Kadam had bought me a couple of novels at the hotel bookstore as well as a travel book of India.

  I napped on and off during the day between chapters. I finished the first novel by early afternoon and was nearing the end of the second book by the time we drove into the city. The car was unusually quiet. Mr. Kadam seemed in high spirits, but he wasn’t sharing, and Ren slept the day away in the back.

  After the sun went down, Mr. Kadam announced that we were near our destination. He indicated that he would drop me off first and then we would have dinner in the hotel restaurant to celebrate.

  Inside my new hotel room, I lamented over what to wear because all I had were jeans and T-shirts in my bag. As I was rifling through the same three items for the third time, I heard a knock at the door and shuffled over in my robe and slippers. A maid handed me a zipped garment bag and a box. I tried to talk to her, but she didn’t understand English. She just kept saying, “Kadam.”

  I took it, thanked her, and unzipped the garment bag to find a gorgeous dress inside. The fitted black velvet bodice had a sweetheart neckline, and the capped sleeves and skirt were made of a pearlescent plum dupioni silk. The dress’s snug fit made me look curvier than I really was. It tapered down to my hips and settled over the full plum, knee-length skirt. A belt, made of the same soft material as the skirt, was knotted on the sid
e and pinned with a sparkling broach to emphasize my waist.

  The dress was beautifully made, fully lined, and probably expensive. When I moved in the light, the material shimmered, reflecting several different shades of purple. I’d never worn something so lovely, except for the beautiful blue Indian dress I had back at the house. I opened the box and found a pair of strappy black heels with diamond buckles and a matching lily clip for my hair. A dress like this required makeup, so I headed to the bathroom and finished getting ready. I clipped the lily into my hair just over my left ear and finger-combed through my wavy hair. Then I slipped on my shoes and waited for Mr. Kadam.

  He soon knocked on my door and admired me with fatherly appreciation. “Miss Kelsey, you look beautiful!”

  I swirled my skirt for him. “The dress is beautiful. If I look good, it’s all your doing. You picked out something fabulous. Thank you. You must have known that I wanted to feel like a lady for a change, instead of a camper Jane.”

  He nodded. His eyes seemed thoughtful, but he smiled at me, held out his arm, and escorted me out to the hotel elevator. We rode down the elevator and laughed about monkeys, as I told him about Ren running around with about twenty of them attached to his fur.

  We walked into a candlelit restaurant with white linen tablecloths and napkins. The hostess guided us to a section with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the lights of the city below. Only one of the tables in this section of the restaurant was occupied. A man was dining alone. He was sitting with his back turned toward us as he looked out at the lights.

  Mr. Kadam bowed and said, “Miss Kelsey, I will leave you to your dining companion. Enjoy your dinner.” Then he walked out of the restaurant.

  “Mr. Kadam, wait. I don’t understand.”

  Dining companion? What is he talking about? Maybe he’s confused.

  Just then, a deep, all-too-familiar voice behind me said, “Hello, Kells.”

  I froze, and my heart dropped into my stomach, stirring up about a billion butterflies. A few seconds passed. Or was it a few minutes? I couldn’t tell.

  I heard a sigh of frustration. “Are you still not talking to me? Turn around, please.”

  A warm hand slid under my elbow and gently turned me around. I raised my eyes and gasped softly. He was breathtaking! So handsome, I wanted to cry.

  “Ren.”

  He smiled. “Who else?”

  He was dressed in an elegant black suit and he’d had his hair cut. Glossy black hair was swept back away from his face in tousled layers that tapered to a slight curl at the nape of his neck. The white shirt he wore was unbuttoned at the collar. It set off his golden-bronze skin and his brilliant white smile, making him positively lethal to any woman who might cross his path. I groaned inwardly.

  He’s like . . . like James Bond, Antonio Banderas, and Brad Pitt all rolled into one.

  I decided the safest thing to do would be to look at his shoes. Shoes were boring, right? Not attractive at all. Ah. Much better. His shoes were nice, of course—polished and black, just like I would expect. I smiled wryly when I realized that this was the first time I’d ever seen Ren in shoes.

  He cupped my chin and made me look at his face. The jerk. Then it was his turn to appraise me. He looked me up and down. And not a quick look. He took it all in slowly. The kind of slow that made a girl’s face feel hot. I got mad at myself for blushing and glared at him.

  Nervous and impatient, I asked, “Are you finished?”

  “Almost.” He was now staring at my strappy shoes.

  “Well, hurry up!”

  His eyes drifted leisurely back up to my face and he smiled at me appreciatively, “Kelsey, when a man spends time with a beautiful woman, he needs to pace himself.”

  I quirked my eyebrow at him and laughed. “Yeah, I’m a regular marathon alright.”

  He kissed my fingers. “Exactly. A wise man never sprints . . . in a marathon.”

  “I was being sarcastic, Ren.”

  He ignored me and tucked my hand under his arm then led me over to a beautifully lit table. Pulling the chair out for me, he invited me to sit.

  I stood there wondering if I could sprint for the nearest exit. Stupid strappy shoes, I’d never make it.

  He leaned in close and whispered in my ear, “I know what you’re thinking, and I’m not going to let you escape again. You can either take a seat and have dinner with me like a normal date,” he grinned at his word choice, “or,” he paused thoughtfully then threatened, “you can sit on my lap while I force-feed you.”

  I hissed, “You wouldn’t dare. You’re too much of a gentleman to force me to do anything. It’s an empty bluff, Mr. Asks-For-Permission.”

  “Even a gentleman has his limits. One way or another, we’re going to have a civil conversation. I’m hoping I get to feed you from my lap, but it’s your choice.”

  He straightened up again and waited. I unceremoniously plunked down in my chair and scooted in noisily to the table. He laughed softly and took the chair across from me. I felt guilty because of the dress and readjusted my skirt so it wouldn’t wrinkle.

  I glared at him as our waitress came over. She set my menu down quickly, and I had to watch as she took an extra long time giving him his menu. She stood near his shoulder and pointed out several choices while leaning over his arm. After she finally left, I rolled my eyes in disgust.

  Ren took his time perusing the menu and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself. I didn’t even pick my menu up. He shot me meaningful glances while I sat silently, trying to avoid making eye contact. When she came back, she spoke to him briefly and gestured to me.

  I smiled, and in a syrupy sweet voice, said, “I’ll have whatever will get me out of here the fastest. Like a salad, maybe.”

  Ren smiled benignly back at me and rattled off what sounded like a banquet of choices, which the waitress was more than happy to take her time writing down. She kept touching him and laughing with him too. Which I found very, very annoying.

  When she left, he leaned back in his chair and sipped his water.

  I broke the silence first and hissed at him quietly, “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but you only have about two minutes left, so I hope you ordered the steak tartar, Tiger.”

  He grinned mischievously. “We’ll see, Kells. We’ll see.”

  “Fine. No skin off my nose. I can’t wait to see what happens when a white tiger runs through this nice establishment creating mayhem and havoc. Perhaps they will lose one of their stars because they put their patrons in danger. Maybe your new waitress girlfriend will run away screaming.” I smiled at the thought.

  Ren affected shock, “Why, Kelsey! Are you jealous?”

  I snorted in a very unladylike way, “No! Of course not.”

  He grinned. Nervously, I played with my cloth napkin. “I can’t believe you convinced Mr. Kadam to play along with you like this. It’s shocking, really.”

  He opened his napkin and winked at the waitress when she came to bring us a basket of rolls.

  When she left, I challenged, “Are you winking at her? Unbelievable!”

  He laughed quietly and pulled out a steaming roll, buttered it, and put it on my plate. “Eat, Kelsey,” he commanded. Then he sat forward. “Unless you are reconsidering seeing the view from my lap.”

  Angrily, I tore apart my roll and swallowed a few pieces before I even noticed how delicious they were—light and flaky with little flecks of orange rind mixed into the dough. I would have eaten another one, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

  The waitress returned shortly with two helpers, and they piled dish after dish on our table. Sure enough, he had ordered a smorgasbord. There was not one inch left on our table. He took my plate and piled it high with aromatic, mouth-watering selections. After placing it in front of me, he began filling his own. When he was finished, he set his plate down, looked at me, and raised an eyebrow.

  I leaned forward and whispered angrily, “I am not going to sit on your lap, so don’
t get your hopes up, Mister.”

  He still waited until I picked up a fork and took a few bites. I speared a bite of macadamia nut crusted ruby snapper and said, “Whew. Time’s up. Isn’t it? The clock is ticking. You must be sweating it, huh? I mean, you could turn any second.”

  He just took a bite of curried lamb and then some saffron rice and sat there chewing as cool as a cucumber.

  I watched him closely for a full two minutes and then folded up my napkin.

  “Okay, I give. Why are you acting so smug and confident? When are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  He wiped his mouth carefully and took a sip of water. “What’s going on, my prema, is that the curse has been lifted.”

  My mouth dropped open. “What? If it was lifted, why were you a tiger for the last two days?”

  “Well, to be clear, the curse is not completely gone. I seem to have been granted a partial removal of the curse.”

  “Partial? Partial meaning what, exactly?”

  “Partial, meaning a certain number of hours per day. Six hours to be exact.”

  I recited the prophecy in my mind and remembered that there were four sides to the monolith, and four times six was . . . “Twenty-four.”

  He paused, “Twenty-four what?”

  “Well, six hours makes sense because there are four gifts to obtain for Durga and four sides of the monolith. We’ve only completed one of the tasks, so you only get six hours.”

  He smiled. “I guess I get to keep you around then, at least until the other tasks are finished.”

  I snorted. “Don’t hold your breath, Tarzan. I might not need to be present for the other tasks. Now that you’re a man part of the time, you and Kishan can resolve this problem yourselves, I’m sure.”

  He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at me. “Don’t underestimate your level of . . . involvement, Kelsey. Even if you weren’t needed anymore to break the curse, do you think I’d simply let you go? Let you walk out of my life without a backward glance?”