My mother, in reply, asked if a woman could brush a man’s hair. “Of course!” I’d answered. She bent toward me, her nose almost touching mine, and said, “Then perhaps I can brush your hair instead.”
She took the brush as I willingly laid my head in her lap, and as she ran it through my hair, we spoke of my childish musings. As the years passed, I’d developed a habit of laying my head in my mother’s lap. I’d share all my worries and concerns and then listen to her wise counsel.
When I first set eyes on Yesubai, I remembered noticing her long, long hair. As I got to know her, I decided it was entirely appropriate for a husband to brush his wife’s hair when in the privacy of their chambers. I’d been planning to give her a set of beautiful brushes as a wedding present. Then she died and I was cursed to live as a tiger.
My mother tried to bridge the gap that had grown between us after I became a tiger, but I was determined to be miserable. She’d put her arms around me or stroke my tiger back, but I always stalked away. I missed the closeness between us but didn’t know how to fix what I was or undo what I’d done. Being the tiger was the punishment I got for falling in love with Ren’s girl.
Then Kelsey came. Her embrace healed me. Her touch made me forget. Gave me hope of a future that now seemed to be swept away forever. I had laid my head in Kelsey’s lap. Asked her to be my wife. I was finally going to become the man I always wanted to be. But the tiger wouldn’t let me go. Once again, the curse threatened to undo me because I’d fallen for Ren’s girl.
As if sensing my thoughts, Anamika asked, “Did you brush her hair?”
I knew right away the “her” she was referring to. Still, I asked, “Kelsey?”
She nodded. I stilled and thought about my once fiancée. I swallowed thickly before answering, “No. I never did.”
“Perhaps you should have,” she teased lightly. “You have good hands.”
Gathering her hair, I twisted it into a loop and fastened it at the nape of her neck with a leather tie. Satisfied, I nudged her from the chair. “I am fairly adept at massages as well,” I said with a sad smile.
Anamika turned, trying to figure out the button on her jacket. “What’s a massage?” she asked as she wrapped the Rope of Fire around her waist like a belt and tied the Divine Scarf around her neck.
Stretching out fingers to help her with her button, I answered, “I’ll show you later.”
Anamika fingered the button of my suit jacket, stroked the silk tie, and then touched the amulet hanging around my neck.
Offering my arm, I asked, “Shall we?”
She stared at my arm with a puzzled expression. “Shall we what?”
I took her hand, curved her fingers over my arm, and said, “Shall we go?”
Staring at her fingers as if they were no longer attached to her body, she nodded mutely.
Selecting a time of four weeks after Ren and Kelsey had returned to the future, I closed my eyes and envisioned the shaded park near Rajaram Industries in Japan. Pressing Anamika close to my side, we disappeared.
***
I’d purposely chosen a shady place under a large tree in the early morning just before sunrise, and with great luck, no one was around when we appeared. Taking Anamika’s hand, I led her through the trees and toward the pond. Rajaram Industries was on the other side of the park, and if we timed it right, we’d arrive just as they opened.
When a pair of early-morning bicycle riders passed just in front of us on a path shaded by ginkgo trees, Anamika started.
“What…what are those?” she asked with awe. “Are they cars?”
“No.” I chuckled. “Those are called bicycles. They are used for travel and for sport.”
Music drifted on the wind and she tugged on my arm to pull me toward it. “Come. I wish to hear the drums.”
We neared an area where musicians of all types were setting up to play. I was surprised to see delight on her face rather than fear. After I told her it was impolite to point at the strange clothing and appearances of the passersby that increased in number as the minutes lapsed, she contented herself with whispering to me of the strange hairstyles, clothing, and piercings she noticed.
She was especially fascinated with the early-morning joggers. Of women who wore their hair in ponytails and sported earbuds and colorful running shoes. She marveled at the extensive rose gardens, and the thrill on her face made me slow my pace so she could stop and smell the fragrant blossoms. When we passed over the bridge, the fountain in the pond shot a spray of water high into the air. I let her watch the water for several minutes until she seemed satisfied and turned to me with an expression of curiosity.
“This is the world you grew up in?”
“No. This is Kelsey’s world. I was born in a time when things moved slowly, very similar to your own.” As we resumed our walk, I asked, “Does this place frighten you?”
“No. Not while I am with you.”
I glanced at her, wondering if she was attempting to toy with me, but she was taking in her surroundings, completely oblivious to my thoughts. Chiding myself, I remembered that Anamika was many things, but a flirt was not one of them. She prided herself on being direct. It was something I appreciated about her. The fact that my presence gave her courage stirred a feeling of satisfaction in me.
“You honor me, Goddess,” I said with a twinkle in my eye.
Her green eyes lifted to mine, seeking to discover my mood, and a second later she graced me with a rare smile.
After passing a Japanese shrine, we left the forest and headed across a wide lawn. Anamika paused in her tracks. Her breathing quickened and I scented the sharp tang of her fear. She clutched my arm.
“What is it?” I asked softly.
“It…it is not possible,” she said.
Her head was lifted to the sky. Where the trees parted, the Tokyo skyline was clearly visible, and a plane passed over one of the skyscrapers as we watched.
“Anamika, look at me.”
I put my hands on her shoulders and turned her toward me. “In this time, there are ways for people to build great buildings and to travel through the sky in metal chariots. They travel over land on great roads that seem to never end. There is an unseen power called electricity that gives the light of a hundred candles. Doors are made of glass and open without anyone holding them. You will see many strange and different things, but I want you to remember that you have more power than all of these. You are the goddess Durga and nothing can hurt you. I will be by your side. If you are unsure, watch what I do. I promise I will not lead you astray.”
Anamika swallowed and nodded. A familiar glint stole into her eyes.
“I am ready,” she said. “You may escort me to the giant metal company.”
As we began walking toward the now bustling crosswalk and her eyes widened at seeing the hundreds of cars changing lanes and honking, I added, “Oh, and one more thing. It’s probably better if you don’t talk too much.”
She frowned and arched a defiant brow, the expression making me laugh. Her righteous indignation at my comment also served the purpose of helping her forget how utterly foreign this world was to her. We approached the glass doors of the Rajaram Industries headquarters, and as she boldly strode by my side, I wondered if I would handle this time as well if our roles were reversed.
The greeter at the front desk was friendly enough until I stated our purpose. Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. “We’ve just finished our yearly audit. I’m afraid I don’t understand,” she said politely but with an expression of no-funny-business-gets-past-her. Anamika didn’t help when she rudely asked the girl why she was wearing color on her lips and cheeks.
The receptionist was picking up the phone to call a supervisor when Ana waved her fingers in the air. The girl blinked and apologized for bothering her supervisor unnecessarily before hanging up the phone. She then returned to her paperwork, ignoring us completely.