I headed back to my room and set down my breakfast. Slowly gathering a few personal items, I placed them in my small travel bag. I frequently caught myself daydreaming. I’d look in the mirror and touch my arm, my hair, and my lips, while remembering Ren’s kisses. I had to constantly shake myself and refocus. What should have taken me ten minutes took an hour and a half.
At the top of my bag, I placed my journal and my quilt. I zipped my bag shut, and then went in search of Mr. Kadam. He was waiting for me in the Jeep looking over maps. He smiled at me and seemed in good cheer, even though I’d made him wait so long.
We picked up Ren, who leapt out of the trees like a playful cub. When he reached the Jeep, I leaned out to pet him, and he reared up on his hind legs to nuzzle my hand and lick my arm through the open window. He hopped in the back seat, and Mr. Kadam got us back on the road.
Carefully following the map routes, he pulled off on a dirt road that led through the jungle, finally stopping at Durga’s stone temple.
18
Durga’s Temple
Mr. Kadam instructed us to wait in the car while he checked the temple for visitors. Ren nudged his head between the seats and butted my shoulder until I turned around.
‘You’d better keep your head down. Someone may see you if you’re not more careful,’ I said with a laugh.
The white tiger made a noise.
‘I know. I missed you too.’
After about five minutes, a young Ameri-can couple exited the temple and drove off and Mr. Kadam returned.
I hopped out and opened the door for Ren, who started brushing up against my legs like a giant house cat waiting to be fed. I laughed.
‘Ren! You’re going to knock me over.’ I kept my hand on his neck, and he contented himself with that.
Mr. Kadam chuckled, and said, ‘You two go ahead and check out the temple while I keep watch for more visitors.’
The path to the temple was lined with smooth terracotta-colored stones. The temple itself was the same terracotta color mixed with striations of soft sepia, spicy pink, and pale oyster. Trees and flowers had been planted around the temple grounds, and various walking paths led off from the main entrance.
We climbed the short stone steps that led to the opening. The entry was open to the air and displayed tall carved pillars that supported the access way. The threshold was just high enough for a person of average height to walk through. On either side of the opening were amazingly detailed carvings of Indian gods and goddesses.
A notice, written in several languages, warned that we should remove our shoes. The floor was dusty, so I took off my socks too, and stuffed them into my tennis shoes.
Once inside, the ceiling expanded into a high dome carved with intricate images of flowers, elephants, monkeys, the sun, and gods and goddesses at play. The rock floor was rectangular, and four tall decora-tive columns connected by ornamental arches stood at each corner. The pillars showed carvings of people in various stages of life and occupa-tions in the act of worshipping Durga. A likeness of the goddess was found at the top of each post.
The temple was literally carved out of a rocky hill. A series of stairs led up from the main floor in three directions. I picked the archway on the right and climbed the steps. The area beyond had been damaged. Crumbled, broken rocks were scattered all over the floor. I couldn’t imagine from the state of the space what it might have been used for.
The next area housed a stone altar of sorts. A small broken statue, now unidentifiable, rested on top. Everything was coated with thick sepia powder. Particles of it twinkled and hung in the air like pixie dust. Beams of light descended from cracks in the dome and spotlighted the floor with narrow rays. I couldn’t hear Ren but every move I made echoed through the empty temple.
The air outside was stifling, but inside, the temple was merely warm and even cool in some places, as if each step brought me to a differ-ent climate. I glanced at the floor and saw my footprints and Ren’s paw prints and made a mental note to sweep the floor before we left. We wouldn’t want people to think a tiger was prowling the grounds.
After searching the area and finding nothing of consequence, we entered the archway on the left, and I gasped in amazement. A hollowed-out recess in the rock sheltered a beautiful stone statue of Durga. She wore a towering headpiece and had all eight arms arrayed around her torso like peacock feathers. She clutched various weapons, one of which was raised in defense. I looked closer and saw that it was the gada, the club. Curled around her legs was Damon, Durga’s tiger. His large claws were extended from a heavy paw and aimed at the throat of an enemy boar.
‘I guess she had a tiger to protect her too, huh, Ren?’
I positioned myself directly in front of the statue, and Ren sat next to me. As we examined her, I asked him, ‘What do you think Mr. Kadam expects we will find here? More answers? How do we get her blessing?’
I paced back and forth in front of the statue while inves---tigating the walls, poking my fingers gingerly into crevices. I was looking for something out of the ordinary – but being a stranger in a strange land, I wasn’t quite sure what that might be. After a half hour, my hands were smudged, cobwebby, and coated with terracotta dust. What was worse was that I’d gotten nowhere. I wiped my hands on my jeans and plopped down onto the stone steps.
‘I give up. I just don’t know what we should be looking for.’
Ren came over and rested his head on my knee. I stroked his soft back.
‘What are we going to do next? Should we keep looking or head back to the Jeep?’
I glanced at the supporting column next to me. It showed a carving of people worshipping Durga. On this one, there were two women and one man who were offering food. I thought they must be farmers because there were different types of fields and orchards dominating the rest of the post. Herds of domestic animals and farming tools were also carved into the scene. The man carried a bunch of grain slung over his shoulder. One of the women carried a basket of fruit, and the other woman had something small in her hand.
I got up to take a closer look. ‘Hey, Ren, what do you think that is in her hand?’
I jumped. The prince’s warm hand took mine and squeezed it lightly.
I scolded, ‘You really should warn me before you change form, you know.’
Ren laughed and traced the carving with his finger. ‘I’m not sure. It looks kind of like a bell.’
I traced the carving with my finger and muttered, ‘What if we made an offering to Durga like that?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, what if we offered something. Like fruit. And then rang a bell?’
He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Sure. Anything’s worth a try.’
We headed back to the Jeep and told Mr. Kadam our idea. He seemed enthusiastic about making an attempt.
‘Excellent idea, Miss Kelsey! I don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself.’
He dug through our lunch and pulled out an apple and a banana.
‘As for a bell, I did not think to bring one with me, but I believe that in many of these old temples a bell was installed. The disciples rang them when guests arrived, when worshipping, and to call others to a meal. Why not search the shrine for such a bell. Perhaps you will find one, and we will not have to drive back into town to buy one.’
Taking the apple and the banana, I said, ‘I sure hope this works, and she blesses us because I have absolutely no idea what I am doing. I hope you’re not expecting too much. Don’t get your hopes up, Mr. Kadam, because you’re bound to be disappointed.’
He reassured me that he could never be disappointed in me and shooed us on our way.
Back inside the temple, Ren searched the altar area while I started digging through the rubble in the other room.
After about fifteen minutes, I heard, ‘Kelsey, over here! I found it!’