Tiger Boy

by Mitali Perkins

  “Shhh,” Neel warned. “We’re not out of danger yet.”

  Rupa’s hand smoothed the orange-and-black fur. “What now?”

  How would they make it to the dock? And if they did get caught, how would they explain themselves to Baba? The last thing Neel wanted was to dishonor their father, and he knew his sister felt the same way. He rubbed his cheek against the cub’s soft head. Getting her to safety is the best way we can respect everything that Baba taught us. Surely he would see that?

  “We’ll have to make a run for it. Once we get to the boat, you can hold her while I row us to the reserve.”

  Rupa picked up the pail, flashlight, and stick. “OK. Let’s go.”

  They waded through the water and climbed back onto the path, with Neel still cradling the cub. The island was quiet, but a dog barked in the distance as they jogged along the path, single file. Another dog joined in.

  “Go faster, Neel,” Rupa said urgently.

  “I’m afraid I’ll drop her.”

  When they reached the well, they heard the noise they’d been dreading.

  Voices.

  Men’s voices.

  Coming closer.

  Moving fast.

  “Stop!”

  “Who’s there?”

  Now they had to run. Clutching the cub, Neel picked up his pace, Rupa at his heels. He threw a quick look over his shoulder. Lights bobbed on the path behind them as their pursuers sped up. Neel broke into a sprint, praying he wouldn’t drop the cub. Was that their own father chasing them?

  “Ay-yo!” That was Rupa!

  Neel turned to see his sister down on her hands and knees. “Didi! Are you OK?”

  “I tripped! It’s my stupid sari! You go! I’ll delay them!” Quickly she lay down face-first, her body sprawled across the path.

  Neel threw his sister one last desperate look before racing toward the tamarind tree. He could hear men shouting, and then the voices stopped. They must have reached Rupa. How would she explain being out alone at night, facedown on the path, wet and dirty? Would she manage to buy the time he needed to jump into the boat? Even if he made it to the boat, how could he hold the cub and row to the reserve, now that he was on his own?

  The cub’s heart was beating fast, too. She was as scared as he was. He had to get her to safety! If she were caught now, she’d be dead before morning. He dashed along the path through the huts and rice paddies, over the small bridges, his breath coming in gasps. He raced past the tamarind tree and worksite for Gupta’s house. Almost there!

  “Stop!”

  Neel didn’t obey. It wasn’t Baba’s voice. He was to the dock now, almost to the place where his father’s nauka was secured. But it was too late! Three men caught up to him, and he spun around to face them. He recognized their faces in the moonlight—Gupta’s foreman, Viju’s father, and one of the bricklayers who had been working on the site. And there was Viju, cowering behind his father. But where was Baba?

  For a quick second Neel pictured himself breaking through the triangle of pursuers, leaping into the nauka, and rowing himself and the cub away from danger.

  But before he could move, the foreman grabbed his shirt and lifted his stick high over Neel’s head. Neel shielded the cub and braced for the blow. He wouldn’t hand the cub over without a fight—he couldn’t.

  “It’s only a boy—my carpenter’s son.” It was Gupta, waddling over to the dock. Viju’s father, Viju, and the bricklayer backed away to make room for Gupta, but the foreman didn’t budge.

  Gupta shone a bright flashlight across Neel’s face and arms. “He has the cub! How lovely! Well done, well done. But why are you holding the boy like that, stupid fellow?”

  “He didn’t stop when we told him to,” the foreman growled, but he lowered his stick and let go of Neel’s shirt.

  Then Neel caught sight of Baba—his own father— striding to the dock. In the past that sight would have reassured Neel and made him feel safe, but now he wasn’t sure, couldn’t be sure, and he didn’t try to stop the tears.

  “That’s my son!” Baba pushed his way through the men to stand beside Gupta. Neel flinched when he saw the shock on his father’s face.

  “Brains run in the family, I see,” Gupta said, clapping Baba on the back. “You and your boy will get the whole reward, no doubt about that. Now hand the cub over, Son.”

  Neel clutched the cub even tighter. “She belongs on the reserve with her mother,” he said. He kept his eyes on Baba. “I’m taking her to the rangers.”

  Viju gasped. The foreman and bricklayer grunted threats and stepped forward.

  “Don’t you want that reward, Son?” Gupta asked, still smiling. “It’s a lot of money for a boy like you.”

  “Many things in life are worth more than money,” Neel said.

  Gupta’s smile disappeared. “Take the cub,” he said.

  “That’s his father’s job,” the foreman grunted.

  Baba came toward Neel. Would his father take the cub? Would he order Neel to hand her over? The small creature nestled closer, and Neel choked out the words: “Please, Baba, please.”

  For a long minute Baba looked into Neel’s eyes, then down at the cub. Suddenly he whirled to face Gupta. “Neel, get into the nauka and wait for me.” Baba’s voice was steady, but he was clutching his sundari stick.

  Neel obeyed, his heart racing. Somehow he managed to leap into the nauka with the cub safely in his arms. The vessel swayed with the jolt of his landing.

  “What are you doing?” It was the foreman.

  “We’ve been hunting for that cub night and day, Jai,” added Viju’s father. “Have you lost your senses?”

  “I’ve come back to my senses,” Baba answered.

  “I’ll make you give her to us!” the foreman shouted, leaping forward and swinging his pole at Baba.

  Neel cried out, but Baba met the blow with his hand-carved sundari stick. Thwack! The other man’s weapon shattered into pieces.

  Gupta stepped forward. “No need for violence. I’ll double the reward if your son hands over the cub to us. And then we’ll forget this . . . er, incident . . . ever happened.”

  Baba glanced over his shoulder at Neel, who was watching from the boat. “Your men would have to beat me and my son before you take that cub.”

  There was a silence. Baba didn’t budge.

  Finally Gupta spat in the dirt. “How dare you defy me!” he snarled. “You fool! Don’t you know who I am?”

  “I know exactly who you are,” Baba said. He strode to the dock, leaped into the boat with Neel, untied it, and slowly, easily, began rowing across the river.

  Neel held his breath. Would Gupta command his men to follow them? It sounded as if he might be trying, but none of them came to the dock. The three men stood like statues in the moonlight, watching Baba, Neel, and the cub cross the river. Behind them, Viju raised a hand and waved it quickly, and Neel waved back.

  Gupta’s silhouette stomped off toward his house. What would he do to Baba? Could he do anything to their family? Neel didn’t know, and right now he didn’t care. He was with Baba in his nauka—and they were rowing the cub to safety.

  Fourteen

  “IS DIDI OK?” Neel asked as soon as they were out of earshot of the shore.

  “When we caught up with her, she seemed to be in a daze. She didn’t say much, but muttered something about sleepwalking, which bought you a bit more time. I had to escort her home. A fine actress, that sister of yours. She should think about starring in a Bollywood film.”

  Neel grinned and dropped another kiss on the cub’s head. She’d fallen asleep. Her tiny body rose and fell with each milky, warm breath.

  Baba stopped rowing and reached over to stroke the cub’s fur with his big hand. “I wonder what the rangers call her,” he said.

  “I’d name her Sundari if she were mine,” Neel said. “Little beauty” suited the cub perfectly.

  “That’s right, Son. What a way with words you have.”

  They tr
aveled the rest of the way without speaking, but this time the silence between them wasn’t heavy, like it had been during those troubled meals. Instead the quiet of the Sunderbans encircled them like the salty, warm night air. Baba rowed smoothly, and when they crossed the halfway point, he began singing like all the fishermen did when they neared the reserve. Rumor had it that songs kept the tigers from attacking. Neel joined in. Together, he and Baba sang their way across the moonlit waterway.

  The dock that was used by the rangers was sturdy and long, reaching into the deep water. Two motor patrol boats, tied and locked securely, bobbed in the water as Baba’s nauka bumped into the dock. At the end of the dock was a high chain-link gate and the fence that surrounded the ranger station. Nylon mesh was attached to it, stretching out on either side for miles and miles to keep the tigers inside the reserve.

  As Baba moored the nauka, Neel climbed carefully out, still cradling the cub. He followed Baba up the dock as fast as he could, trying not to wake her.

  “Open up!” Baba called, banging the gate with his stick. They couldn’t stay outside the fence for long; not with a frantic mother trying her best to escape from the reserve and find her cub. Their presence and the cub’s scent might be just enough for the angry tiger to break through the fence and attack them.

  Lights came on in the windows of the ranger station. “Who’s there?” a voice called.

  “We have the cub!” Neel called.

  A door flew open; the cub started in Neel’s arms. A ranger shone his flashlight on their faces and then fumbled with his keys. The gate swung open, and they were safely inside. “You’re that boy we met on the path a few days ago, aren’t you?” It was Kushal, the head ranger who had spoken with Headmaster.

  “Yes, sir, I am. You told me to bring the cub to you, remember?”

  Carefully, gently, Neel handed the now-alert cub to the ranger. His arms felt strangely empty as they dangled by his side.

  “God has heard our prayers,” said Kushal, stroking the cub’s head as he held her. “We’ve been frantic with worry—the other rangers are on your island right now. We heard rumors about a bounty on her head. Is that true?”

  Neel suddenly remembered Gupta’s ugly threat. Would they get into even more trouble if they told the truth?

  But Baba straightened his shoulders and then lifted his chin. “That new fellow on our island—Gupta— he offered a reward for the cub. I’m sure he intended to sell the creature on the black market.”

  Kushal shook his head. “We’ve been tracking that man’s poaching and logging activities for some time now. The police are quite interested in him also, for other reasons. This might be the very piece of information we need to get him out of the Sunderbans once and for all. Would you be willing to testify against him?”

  Baba smiled at Neel—his old, familiar smile. “Definitely,” he said.

  “We’ll move quickly. I’ll try to get the police there as soon as I can.” The ranger turned to Neel. “Is the cub hurt in any way?”

  “No, she was hiding inside a cave. I think she’s fine. Wants her mother, though, that’s for sure.”

  “And how her mother wants her! She almost escaped again yesterday, but we managed to keep her inside without having to tranquilize her. She’s been prowling tonight on the other side of the fence, with her other cub close by. There she is now—hear that?”

  A loud growl came from the darkness behind the ranger station. The cub lifted her head, twitched her ears, and answered her mother with a soft mew.

  “Can’t you take her to them now?” Neel asked. “She drank a lot of goat’s milk—almost a whole bucket full.”

  Kushal smiled. “I can see that. And smell it, too. Is that how you lured her to you?”

  Neel wrinkled his nose. Rain, mud, tiger, and goat’s milk—he needed a bath! “It was my sister’s idea,” he said.

  “A smart pair, the both of you.” He cocked his head. “I hear the boat; the other rangers must have given up. Come, let’s show them your find, shall we?”

  Two rangers, muddy and bleary-eyed after a long night of searching, crowded around the cub. They touched her gently, took photos, and thanked Neel and his father again and again.

  “That’s enough,” Kushal said finally. “Her mother’s waiting anxiously. Let me scan the cub for any wounds or bites before we release her. We need to tell headquarters we’ve found her.”

  As Kushal checked the cub carefully from head to tail, one of the rangers radioed a message while the other sat in front of the computer. Baba sat down to wait, while Neel walked around the office. Books and newspapers were scattered across the desk, and Neel’s eye was drawn to them immediately. A few expensivelooking books written in English looked untouched, their covers shiny, full of words and pictures waiting to be discovered.

  “What are those about?” Baba asked him.

  Neel read the few titles aloud, struggling to translate them into Bangla for his father. “Project Tiger. Deforestation and Cyclones: A Deadly Combination. Flora and Fauna of the Mangrove Forest. Endangered Species in the Bay of Bengal. Asian Honeybees of the Sunderbans.”

  “Good to know so many fine minds are working to protect this place,” Baba said. Then he glanced at Neel. “But I wonder if any of these scholars and authors grew up here, like you, Son.”

  It was a good question. The cover of the first book featured a photograph of a tiger peering through the mangrove trees. Could an outsider—even an Indian one—understand this place half as well as someone born and raised here? Someone who, say, had actually held a baby tiger cub in his arms? Neel was sure he’d find plenty of mistakes inside these books if he ever got the chance to read them. His fingers itched to turn the pages.

  Kushal looked up from the cub. “She’s fine,” he said, and Neel could hear the relief in his voice.

  “She certainly is,” Baba said. “Does she have a name?”

  “Not yet. We’ve been arguing about what to call her for weeks.” He turned to Neel. “Maybe you have a suggestion?”

  “Sundari,” Neel said quickly. “She’s Sundari.”

  The rangers laughed. “I like it,” the one at the computer said.

  “And you deserve to name her,” added the other.

  “I see you like the look of those books, Son,” Kushal said, smiling. “Headmaster said you read English well. He’s a good man, but strict to the core, isn’t he?”

  “Very strict,” said Neel and his father together, and all five of them laughed.

  “Why don’t you take those books home with you? I’ve managed to get through most of them, and you deserve some kind of reward.”

  “Really? I can have them?” Neel had never owned a book of his own.

  “They’re yours. Read them, and keep studying. We need all the help we can get to keep this reserve going. A smart boy like you could do a lot of good for this place if you keep doing well in your studies.”

  Neel caught Baba’s eye. “I’ll try, sir. I’ll give it a try.”

  “Good. Let’s go reunite this baby with her mother, shall we?”

  Kushal led them to the back of the station. A small gate in the high chain-link fence led out into open tiger territory. “There they are,” he said. “See them?”

  He was pointing into a grove about fifty meters from the fence. The moon was higher now and not as bright, but Neel squinted into the trees. Suddenly he glimpsed the tigress, pacing back and forth. She must have caught sight of them just as he saw her, because she slipped back into the darkness of the trees.

  “I don’t see the other baby,” Neel said.

  “Oh, he’s there—don’t worry. Hiding in the shadows, just behind his mother. I’ll let the cub out now. You may wish her well, if you’d like.”

  The cub’s eyes were open, and this time both her nose and her ears were twitching. Baba and the other two rangers each stroked Sundari’s fur. Neel leaned over and dropped a last kiss on the small head. Goodbye, little friend! You’ve traveled far from your
home, but now you’re back. Peace be with you!

  Cradling the cub, Kushal walked across the yard to the fence and unlocked and opened the gate. He set the cub down outside the fence and then quickly closed and locked the gate again.

  Baba put his hand on Neel’s shoulder. With a little bound and no backward look, Sundari raced toward her mother and brother. The mother tiger and the other baby must have caught the cub’s scent, because suddenly they came out into the open. The three creatures became one ecstatic tangle of golden, white, and black fur, cavorting in the moonlight.

  Fifteen

  WHEN THEIR NAUKA returned to the dock on their island, Neel was relieved to see that nobody was waiting for them. “Baba, will Gupta try to get revenge?” he asked as they walked slowly up the path toward home. They were lugging the five heavy books the ranger had given Neel, and Baba was also carrying their decoy masks and his long, sturdy stick.

  “I’m sure he’s angry,” Baba answered. “But you heard the ranger—they’ve been looking for a way to get him off our island. Sounds like he can’t risk breaking any more laws.”

  “But you’ve lost your carpentry job, Baba.”

  Baba shrugged. “We managed to make ends meet before I worked for Gupta, didn’t we?”

  Neel nodded. They were almost home, and he was suddenly so tired he could hardly keep his eyes open. But Rupa was waiting in the courtyard. She jumped to her feet when she spotted them. “What happened? What happened? Where’s the cub?”

  As she heard about the foreman’s stick, Gupta’s response, and the cub’s joyous reunion with her mother, Rupa’s eyes filled. Bending, she touched Baba’s feet and then her own forehead in a pranam—the gesture of honor younger people gave elders on special occasions. Baba handed Neel the books he was holding and placed his hand on Rupa’s head in the traditional response. “Make sure you don’t ‘sleepwalk’ again, my daughter,” he said, smiling. “I’m going inside to tell your mother the news.”

  Rupa threw her arms around Neel. “You did it!”

  “We did it, you mean,” Neel said. And then he yawned so widely that he almost fell over.