I walked to the table, followed by Ren. He yawned, arched his back, and stretched himself one leg at a time, then sat at my feet.
‘You hungry? Eat. Good food, hmmm?’ The shaman smacked his lips, ‘Very tast-ey.’ The little man stood up and scooped some aromatic, herby vegetable stew out of a bubbling pot on the wood stove. He added a piece of warm flatbread along the edge of the bowl, and came back to the table. Pushing the bowl toward me, he nodded satisfactorily and then sat down and continued stripping the leaves from the plants.
The stew smelled heavenly, especially after eating energy bars for a day and a half.
The shaman clucked his tongue. ‘What your name?’
‘Kelsey,’ I mumbled, as I chewed.
‘Kahl-see. You have good name. Strong.’
‘Thank you for the food. It’s delicious!’
He grunted in response and waved his hand dismissively.
I asked him, ‘What’s your name?’
‘My name, uh, too immense. You call me Phet.’
Phet was a small, brown, wrinkly man with a crown of wiry gray hair circling the back of his head. His shiny bald patch reflected the light of the lamp. He was dressed in a roughly woven, grayish-green wrap and sandals. The material was wound around his scrawny arms, and his bare legs stuck out below it from his knobby knees down. A sarong was thrown over his shoulder haphazardly, and I was surprised the flimsy garment even stayed on his thin frame.
‘Phet, I’m sorry to barge into your home. Ren led me here. You see—’
‘Ah, Ren, your tiger. Yes, Phet be acquainted with why you here. Anik say you and Ren coming, so, I go Suki Lake today for . . . preparation.’
I scooped up some more stew as he brought me a cup of water. ‘Do you mean Mr. Kadam? Did he tell you we were coming?’
‘Yes, yes. Kadam tell Phet.’ The shaman pushed aside his plants, making room on the corner of the table, and then picked up a little cage that held an exquisite tiny red bird. ‘Birds at Suki Lake are many, but this bird largely extraordinary.’
He leaned over, clicked his tongue at the bird, and waggled his finger next to the cage. He started humming and spoke to it gaily in his native language. Turning his attention back to me, he said, ‘Phet linger all day capture. Bird sing be-u-ti-full song.’
‘Will he sing for us?’
‘Who is knowing? Sometime bird never sing, whole lifetime. Only sing if special parson. Kahl-see is special parson?’ He laughed uproariously as if he’d made a fantastic joke.
‘Phet, what is the bird called?’
‘He is Durga’s hatchling.’
I finished my stew and set the bowl to the side. ‘Who is Durga?’
He grinned. ‘Ah. Durga be-u-ti-full goddess, and Phet,’ gesturing to himself, ‘is willing low servant. Bird sing for Durga and one special woman.’ He picked up his leaves again and continued working.
‘So you are a priest of Durga?’
‘Priest edify other citizen. Phet exist alone. Serve alone.’
‘Do you like to be alone?’
‘Alone is reasoned mind, hear things, see things. Added people is too many voice.’
He had a good point. I don’t mind being alone either. The only problem is that if you’re always alone, you get lonely.
‘Hmm. Your bird is very beautiful.’
He nodded and worked quietly. ‘May I help you with the leaves?’ I asked.
He grinned widely, revealing a broken smile with several missing teeth. His eyes almost disappeared amid the deep brown wrinkles. ‘You want assist me? Yes, Kahl-see. Watch Phet. Follow. You try.’
He held the stem of a plant and pulled downward with his fingers until he had stripped off all of the leaves. He handed me a branch with tiny leaves, which looked like a type of rosemary. I plucked off the fragrant green leaves and piled them up on the table. We worked companionably together for a while.
Apparently, he harvested the herbs for a living. He showed me the different plants that he’d collected and told me their names and what they were used for. He also had the dry collection, which was hanging from the ceiling, and he spent some time describing each one of those. Some of the names I was familiar with, but others I’d never heard of before.
The more interesting ones were arjuna, the ground bark of a tree used medicinally to aid circulation and digestion; turmeric, good for circulation as well but also provided aid to the respiratory system; and neem leaves, which did something to aid digestion. I didn’t ask any detailed questions about that one.
Others were gotu kola, which smelled bitter and sweet. Phet said it gave long life and lots of energy. Brahmi leaves helped a person think better, and shatavari was a root good for female problems.
He stood on a little step stool, took down some of the dry plants, and replaced them with fresh ones, and then he got out a mortar and pestle. After teaching me how to crumble the herbs and grind them, he turned the job over to me so I could grind several different types.
Phet opened one jar that had hard, golden drops of resin inside. I smelled it and exclaimed, ‘I remember that smell from the jungle. It’s that gummy stuff that drips from the tree, right?’
‘Very good Kahl-see. It name olibanum. Come from Boswellia tree, but maybe you call frankincense.’
‘Frankincense? I always wondered what that was.’
He took out a small chip and handed it to me. ‘Here, Kahl-see, taste.’
‘You want me to eat that? I thought it was a perfume.’
‘Take, Kahl-see, you try.’ He put a piece on his own tongue, and I followed suit.
It smelled spicy, and its flavor was sweet and warm. Its texture was like sticky gum. Phet chewed with his few teeth and grinned at me.
‘Good taste, Kahl-see? Now breathe long.’
‘Breathe long?’
He demonstrated by sucking in a deep breath, so I did too. He thumped me on the back, which would have caused me to spit out the gum if it wasn’t permanently stuck to my teeth. ‘You see? Good you stum-ack, good breathe, no worries.’ He handed me the small jar of frankincense. ‘You keep, good value meant for you.’
I thanked him, and after placing the jar in my backpack, returned to the mortar and pestle.
He asked, ‘Kahl-see, you travel lengthy way, yes?’
‘Oh, yes, a very long way.’ I told him about meeting Ren in Oregon and then journeying to India with Mr. Kadam. I also described the loss of the truck, our trek through the jungle, and ended with finding his home.
Phet nodded and listened intently. ‘And your tiger is not as always tiger. Am I correct in this saying?’
I looked at Ren. ‘Yes, you are correct.’
‘You wish to help the tiger?’
‘Yes, I wish to help him. I’m angry that he tricked me, but I under-stand why he did.’ I ducked my head and shrugged my shoulders. ‘I just want him to be free.’ At that moment, the little red bird burst into a lovely song and continued to sing for the next few minutes.
Phet closed his eyes, listened with an expression of pure rapture, and hummed quietly along. When the bird stopped singing, he opened his eyes and looked at me with a delighted smile.
‘Kahl-see! You very special! Joyful is my feeling! Phet to perceive song of Durga!’ He got up gleefully and began bustling away all the plants and jars. ‘At the present, you must respite. Important sunrise is tomorrow. Phet must pray in the dark hours, and you necessity sleep. Embark on your traverse tomorrow. It’s hard as difficult. In first light, Phet assist you in the company of tiger. Durga’s secret to unveil. Now go drowse.’
‘I just had a long nap, and I’m not sleepy yet. Can’t I stay with you and ask more questions?’
‘No. Phet go pray. Necessary express thanks Durga in favor of unforeseen blessing. You essential slumber. Phet assemble brew expand Kahl-see sleep.’