Tiger's Curse (8 page)

“Ah, so you’re the Mr. Smithers to his Mr. Burns.”

He quirked an eyebrow at me. “I’m afraid I don’t understand your reference.”

I blushed and waved a hand. “Never mind. They’re characters on
The Simpsons
. You’ve probably never seen the show.”

“I’m afraid I haven’t. Sorry, Miss Kelsey.”

Mr. Kadam seemed slightly uncomfortable or nervous when talking about his boss, but he enjoyed talking about planes, so I encouraged him to continue. I wiggled in my seat and shifted. Kicking off my shoes, I sat cross-legged in the chair and asked, “What kind of cargo did you transport?”

He visibly relaxed. “Over the years, the company transported quite a collection of interesting cargo. For example, we won the contract to convey Aquatic World’s famous killer whale, as well as the torch from the Statue of Liberty. Most of the time, though, the cargo was quite mundane. We transported things such as canned goods, textiles, and packages, quite a variety of things, really.”

“How on earth do you fit a whale into an airplane?”

“One flipper at a time, Miss Kelsey. One flipper at a time.”

Mr. Kadam’s face remained serious. I laughed hard. Wiping a tear from the corner of my eye, I clarified, “So you ran the company?”

“Yes, I spent a lot of time developing Flying Tiger Airlines. I very much enjoy aviation.” He gestured to the aircraft. “What we’re riding in here is called an MD-11, a McDonnell Douglas. It’s a long-range craft, which is necessary when traveling across the ocean. The body is spacious and comfortable, as you might have noticed. It has two engines mounted under the wings, and a third engine is located in the back at the base of the vertical stabilizer. Of course, the interior is built for comfort and relaxation, and we employ the pilot, ground crew, as well as other staff to ensure security.”

“Hmm, sounds . . . sturdy.”

He leaned forward a bit in his seat and spoke enthusiastically, “Though this plane is an older model, it still provides for a very swift journey.” He began numbering its features on his fingers, “It includes a stretched fuselage, a large wingspan, a refined airfoil on the wing and tail plane, and brand new engines.

“The flight deck features the most modern conveniences—electronic instrument panels, dual flight management,
GPS
, central fault display— and it also has automatic landing capability for bad-weather conditions. Of course, we also kept our original company name and logo on the side, which you identified when we boarded.”

He had become eagerly spirited during his technical ruminative. I’m sure it all meant
something
, but what exactly, I had no idea. The only thing I got out of it was that it was a pretty darn good plane and sounded like it had three engines.

He must have figured out that I had no clue what he was talking about because he looked at my perplexed face and chuckled. “Perhaps we should discuss something else, eh? What if I share some tiger myths from my homeland?”

I nodded enthusiastically, urging him to go on. I drew my legs to the side and tucked them into my chair. Then I pulled my blanket up to my chin and leaned back into my pillow.

Mr. Kadam’s intonation changed as he went into storytelling mode. His English articulation dropped off, and his brisk accent became more pronounced, the words more melodic. I enjoyed listening to the cadence of his rhythmic voice.

“The tiger is considered the great protector of the jungle. Several Indian myths say the tiger has great powers. He will bravely combat great dragons but he will also help simple farmers. One of his many tasks is to tow rain clouds with his tail, ending drought for humble villagers.”

“I’m very interested in mythology. Do the people of India still believe in these tiger myths?”

“Yes, especially in the rural areas. But, you will find believers in all parts of the country, even among those who consider themselves a part of today’s modern world. Did you know that some say that a tiger’s purrs will stop nightmares?”

“Mr. Davis said that tigers can’t purr. He told me that big cats that growl and roar can’t purr, but sometimes I swear Ren purrs.”

“Ah, you are correct. Modern science says that a tiger cannot produce the sound identified as a purr. Several of the larger cats make a pulsating noise, but it isn’t quite the same as the purr of a housecat. Still, there are some Indian myths that speak of a tiger purring. It’s also said that a tiger’s body has unique healing properties. This is one of the reasons why they are regularly hunted and killed and their bodies mutilated or sold for parts.”

He leaned back in his chair, relaxing. “In Islam, it is believed that Allah will send a tiger to defend and protect those who follow him faithfully, but he will also send a tiger to punish those he considers traitors.”

“Hmm, I think if I were Islamic I would run away from it, just to be on the safe side. I wouldn’t know if it’s coming to punish or to protect.”

He laughed. “Yes, very wise of you. I confess, I have adopted somewhat of the same fascination that my employer has for tigers, and I have studied numerous texts regarding the mythology of Indian tigers, in particular.”

He trailed off for a moment, lost in thought, and his eyes glazed over. His index finger rubbed at a spot on his open collar, and I noticed he was wearing a small, wedge-shaped pendant on a chain that was half-tucked inside his shirt.

As his focus turned back to me, he quickly dropped his hand to his lap and continued, “Tigers are also a symbol of power and immortality. They are said to vanquish evil through various means. They are called life givers, sentinels, guardians, and defenders.”

I straightened my legs and angled my head back into the pillow. “Are there any damsel-in-distress type tiger myths?”

He considered, “Hmm, yes. In fact, one of my favorite stories is about a white tiger that sprouts wings and saves the princess who loves him from a cruel fate. Carrying her on his back, they relinquish their corporeal forms and become a single white streak journeying into the heavens, eventually joining the stars of the Milky Way. Together they spend eternity watching over and protecting the people of Earth.”

I yawned sleepily. “That’s really beautiful. I think that one’s my favorite too.” His soft, melodic voice had relaxed me. Despite my best efforts to stay awake and listen, I was falling asleep.

He continued steadily, “In Nagaland, they believe that tigers and men are related, that they are brothers. There is one myth that begins, ‘Mother Earth was the mother of the tiger and also of man. Once the two brothers were happy, loved each other, and lived in harmony. But a feud began over a woman, and Brother Tiger and Brother Man fought so wildly that Mother Earth could no longer tolerate their quarrel and had to send them both away.

“‘Brother Tiger and Brother Man left the home of Mother Earth and emerged from a very deep, dark passage inside the earth said to be a pangolin’s den. Living together inside the earth, the two brothers still fought every day, until eventually they decided it would be better to live separately. Brother Tiger went south to hunt in the jungle, and Brother Man went north to farm in the valley. If they stayed away from each other, then both were content. But, if one encroached upon the other’s territory, fighting began anew. Many lifetimes later, the legend still holds true. If the descendants of Brother Man leave the jungles in peace, Brother Tiger will also leave us in peace. Still, the tiger is our kin, and it is said that if you stare into a tiger’s eyes long enough, you will be able to recognize a kindred spirit.’”

My eyelids were drooping against my wishes. I wanted to ask what a pangolin’s den was, but my mouth wouldn’t move and my eyelids felt so heavy. I made one last effort to stay awake by shifting up in my seat a little bit, forcing my eyes open.

Mr. Kadam looked at me thoughtfully. “A white tiger is a very special kind of tiger. It is immitigably drawn to a person, a woman, who has a powerful sense of self-conviction. This woman will possess great inner strength, will have the insight to discern good from evil, and will have the power to overcome many obstacles. She who is called to walk with tigers—”

I fell asleep.

When I awoke, the chair across from me was empty. I sat up and looked around, but I didn’t see Mr. Kadam anywhere. Unbuckling my seatbelt, I headed off to find the restroom.

Opening a sliding door, I walked into a surprisingly large bathroom. This was not at all like the small boxy bathrooms in a regular plane. The lights were recessed in the walls and they softly illuminated the special features of the room. The bathroom was decorated in copper, cream, and rust colors, which were more to my liking than the modern austere look of the plane’s cabin.

The first thing I noticed was the shower! I opened the glass door to peer inside. It had beautiful rust-and cream-colored tiles set in a lovely pattern. There were mounted pumps full of shampoo, conditioner, and soap. The copper showerhead was detachable, and a simple squeeze turned it on and off, similar to a kitchen sink sprayer. I figured this design would help to use less water, which wouldn’t be in abundance on a plane. A thick cream-colored rug covered the beautiful tiled floor.

Off to the side two vertical cubbies, set into the wall, were filled with soft, alabaster towels held in place with a copper bar. Another wide compartment sported a silky soft, fully lined robe that felt like cashmere. It hung from a copper bar. Just under that, another smaller alcove held a pair of cashmere slippers.

A deep sink, shaped like a skinny rectangle, had a pump on each side of the copper faucet. One was full of creamy soap and the other with a sweet lavender lotion.

I finished up in the bathroom, almost hating to leave it, and headed back to my comfy seat. Mr. Kadam had returned, and Nilima, the flight attendant, brought us a delightful-smelling lunch. She had arranged a table between us and set it for two. What made our table unique were the slight depressions designed to hold all of our dinnerware. Our plates sat in short, round grooves specially made to fit them. There was a little thumbnail on one side so that the attendant could lift them in and out easily. Our glasses rested in slightly deeper grooves, and there was even a small vase full of short-stemmed yellow roses set in its own hollowed out space.

Nilima lifted the warmer covers off our plates to set free the delicious aroma of fish.

She said, “Today’s lunch is crusted hazelnut halibut with buttered asparagus, garlic mashed potatoes, and a lemon tart for dessert. What would you like to drink?”

“Water with some lemon,” I responded.

“I’ll have the same,” said Mr. Kadam.

We enjoyed our lunch together. Mr. Kadam asked me many questions about Oregon. He seemed to have an unquenchable thirst for learning new facts and asked me about everything from sports, which I know almost nothing about, to politics, which I know absolutely nothing about, to the flora and fauna of the state, which I know a lot about.

We talked about what high school was like, my experiences at the circus, and about my hometown: the salmon runs, the Christmas tree farms, the farmer’s markets, and the blackberry bushes that were so common, people actually considered them weeds. He was easy to talk with, a great listener, and I felt comfortable with him. The thought crossed my mind that he would make a wonderful grandpa. I never got a chance to know either of mine. They died before I was born, as did my other grandma.

After we finished our lunch, Nilima returned to clear our plates, and I watched how she removed the table. As she pushed a little button, a small, quiet motor sounded. The legless rectangular table tilted up until it was flush to the wall and then slid into the paneling. As the table settled, she let go of the button and instructed us to buckle up because we’d be arriving in New York soon.

The descent was as smooth as the takeoff, so I made it a point after we landed to meet the pilot and tell him that he was exceptionally gifted. Mr. Kadam had to translate for me because the pilot didn’t speak English other than basic flight words. As we refueled for the journey to Mumbai, I visited with Ren.

After making sure he had enough to eat and drink, I sat down on the floor next to his cage. He sauntered over and collapsed down on the floor right next to me. His back was stretched along the length of the cage with his striped fur sticking out through the bars tickling my legs, and his face next to my hand.

I laughed at him, leaned over to stroke the fur on his back, and recounted some of the tiger myths that Mr. Kadam had shared with me. His tail kept flicking back and forth, in and out of the cage bars.

Time flew by quickly, and the plane was soon ready to take off again. Mr. Kadam was already strapping in. I quickly patted Ren’s back and returned to my chair as well.

We took off, and Mr. Kadam warned me that this would be a long flight, about sixteen hours, and also that we would lose a day on the calendar. After we reached the proper cruising altitude, he suggested that I might like to watch a movie. Nilima handed me a list of all the movies they had available, and I picked the longest one on the list:
Gone with the Wind
.

She moved to the bar area, pushed a button on the wall, and a large white screen quietly slid out from the side of the bar. My chair turned around easily to face the screen and it even reclined with a footrest, so I made myself comfortable and passed the time with Scarlett and Rhett.

When I finally got to, “After all, tomorrow
is
another day,” I stood up and stretched. I looked out the window to see it was black outside. It only felt like 5:00 p.m., but I guessed it was probably 9:00 p.m. in our current time zone.

Nilima bustled over and returned the movie screen to its resting place, and then she began setting up the table again.

“Thank you so much for these delicious meals and thank you for the wonderful service,” I told her appreciatively.

“Yes, thank you, Nilima.” Mr. Kadam winked at her, and she inclined her head slightly and left.

I shared an amiable dinner once again with Mr. Kadam. This time we talked about his country. He told me all kinds of interesting things and described fascinating places in India. I wondered if I would have time to see or do any of those things. He spoke of ancient Indian warlords, mighty fortresses, Asian invaders, and horrible battles. When he talked, I felt like I was there seeing and experiencing it for myself.