Hopeless Magic (24 page)

Read Hopeless Magic Online

Authors: Rachel Higginson

Tags: #Fantasy, #Young Adult, #Romance

BOOK: Hopeless Magic
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I was thankful for Kiran too. I hadn't expected to see him in India or until I got home. He had held me the whole way back to the palace, the elephant ride feeling much safer wrapped in his arms and he was very unwilling to leave me alone, even to get bathed and dressed. However, I was very unwilling to let him witness all of that.

I walked over to the carry-on suitcase I had yet to open on this trip and pulled out a floor length, white skirt and black tank top, that I thought could pass off as appropriate in the palace; although it wasn't nearly as elegant as the embel-lished saris I noticed all of the palace servants wore.

I dressed quickly and put product in my hair without bothering to blow dry it. The cool, wetness of my long hair felt good against my hot skin, and I knew that the humidity of the jungle would destroy any chance of relaxed curls 360/711

anyways. A little bit of eyeliner and mascara and then I decided to leave the room in search of Kiran. I didn't want to be alone anymore.

I didn't have to search far, he was waiting in the hallway when I exited the bedroom. He smiled at me, an expression of relief flooding his face and leaned back against the cold marble wall as if finally allowing himself to breath.

"I'm fine. Really," I assured him, answering his unspoken questions.

"I can see that," he smiled, a twinkle in his eyes and his signature smirk rising to the surface. "We can't be.... I mean, here.... Eden, what I'm trying to say is that here I am very much betrothed...."

he looked down at the floor, not able to keep eye contact with me.

"I understand," I replied plainly and understood the warning not to touch him familiarly or speak to him possessively.

"Alright. Ok," he ran his fingers through his tussled blonde waves, smiling at me again. "I 361/711

have business in the village, would you like to come?"

"Is it ok if I come?" I asked, leaning back against the opposite side of the hallway, hands firmly behind my back as if they would betray me and reach out for Kiran without permission.

"Yes, yes of course," he said quickly. "This is the best kind of business," he turned on his heel and started walking quickly with purpose.

I moved after him, struggling to keep up. We walked through more hallways I hadn't seen yet and into a corridor leading outside. I guessed that this was the main entrance to the palace because a covered drive wrapped in a circle down to a broken road and a running funny-looking opened-sided car with a middle-aged driver, sat waiting for us.

The car was more of a three-wheeled motorcycle with one seat for the driver and a back seat wide enough to hold at least two people, maybe three.

The vehicle was covered, except for the sides, which made it easy to get in and out of. But I was 362/711

a little nervous the scooter would be able to do its job efficiently.

I followed Kiran, climbing into the back seat and searching for a seat belt but finding nothing. Kiran smiled down at me, mischief in his eyes, and tapped the driver on the shoulder letting him know we were ready to go.

The small vehicle took off with a jolt and I grabbed onto the seat, trying to decide which mode of transportation I found safer, this or the elephant. We drove faster than I thought possible with the little engine that could, down the winding mountain highway. The driver expertly swerved across the road, avoiding deep pot holes and tears in the pavement.

Twenty minutes later, the driver slowed down as we approached the touristy town of Ooty. Elegant hotels, tea shops, and clean native retailers lined the main roads. The driver continued on, past the more modern buildings I expected would house Kiran's business.

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We drove past the Westernized portion of town and out of the city into a village beyond where the tourists would go. The roads were dirt and the houses four walls of rotting wood with a rough piece of tin or plastic, providing a roof. Barely dressed children played with flat soccer balls in the middle of roads, lined with open sewage systems. The smell from the disgusting, green waste filled the air, and I used magic to keep from gagging.

Kiran stepped out of the vehicle, pulling a few large bags from a trunk I would have assumed was too small for them. I followed him, wondering what kind of business waited for him in a place like this.

The children stopped playing their game as soon as Kiran was out of the car and turned on him, yelling loudly and running wildly in his direction.

I didn't know what to make of the children and was worried Kiran would not appreciate the excited attention, but to my surprise he set his bags down and reached out his arms, embracing as 364/711

many children as he could fit. The ones who didn't fit jumped around with a wild energy, yelling his name in their sweet native tongue.

"Just a minute, just a minute," Kiran stood up, laughing while they clambered around him.

"How are you all? Yes, good?" He continued to laugh with them, bobbing his head like an expert, picking them up and pretending to inspect them or tussling their hair good naturedly.

"Can you play with us?" one little boy asked, holding up the flat soccer ball with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Yes, yes of course, but let me speak with your parents first," Kiran smiled in a way I had never seen before, his whole face was lit up and his smirk gone, replaced with genuine happiness.

I hung back, unsure what to do or how to even begin to interact with the children that loved Kiran so much. Tears stung my eyes when I noticed how dirty the children were and how their tattered clothes hung from their tiny bodies. They were barefoot and scrawny, not with bloated 365/711

stomachs like the starving children I had seen on TV, but with bare ribs and exposed spines.

A little girl with long, tangled black hair, tugged at Kiran's black linen pants; he kneeled down to look her in the eye. She whispered something shyly in his ear, glancing my way with overly large deep brown eyes.

"Well, this is Eden. Children, this is Eden," he reached out to me and took my hand, pulling me into the throng of little ones pressing themselves against Kiran.

"Is she your wife?" a tough little boy asked, putting his hands on his hips and sizing me up.

"No, no she's not," Kiran laughed, putting his arm around my waist and pulling me close to him. "But she would like to be," he laughed harder and I just stared at him, not believing his audacity.

"Why?" the same child asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"Well, because she loves me," he smiled at the children and then at me. I had never seen Kiran 366/711

so happy before; I was too swept away in his emotion to reply.

"How awful," The little boy holding the soccer ball groaned.

"I know, isn't it," Kiran rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Would you like to play with us?" the little girl with big eyes was tugging on my skirt. I knew this was one of those defining moments when I just needed to jump in and, with her sweet expression looking so hopeful, I could hardly say no.

"I would love to," I kneeled down like Kiran had, to her level. "But you'll have to teach me, I don't know how to play," I glanced back at Kiran, asking with my eyes if it was ok and got a happy nod in return.

"Oh Mr. Kiran, she is American," another boy with a long scar running the length of his arm, dramatically covered his face with his hands and shook his head as if to say he was disappointed.

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"Ritesh, I know my boy," he empathized the child's disappointment. "Do you think I still have time to get away?" he grinned down at me, while I tried to hold back my laughter.

"Of course not," the boy answered, pulling his hands away and looking at Kiran seriously, "It's too late for you."

"I'm afraid you are right," Kiran agreed seriously.

"Now, I have a job for you. Would you like a job?" The boy nodded excitedly and pushed his way to the front of the children. "I need you to make sure all of your friends get a pair of these."

Kiran opened one of the black duffle bags revealing enough pairs of shoes for all of the children in every size of flip flops. Ritesh began pulling pairs of shoes out and tossing them into the excited crowd of children. They all reached for them, no matter what color they were and then passed them around until they found a child they would fit. Kiran laughed at them, trying to restore order. When every child was finally outfitted with a pair of shoes, Kiran reached into another 368/711

bag producing a brand new soccer ball which elevated their elation to even higher levels. The children screamed their appreciation and then took off after Kiran tossed the ball further, down the road beginning a new game.

The little girl with the big brown eyes stood tugging on my skirt, silently asking me to join her. I looked at Kiran, not sure if he had other plans for me, but desperately wanting to be apart of the un-conditional love these children showered on him without hesitation. He smiled at me admiringly, his eyes shining.

"Yes, of course, go," he commanded, laughing. I walked over, quickly kissing him on the cheek before running after the little girl, hoping the children would be as forgiving as they were accepting, when they learned I had no soccer skills whatsoever.

I ran around with the children, letting each one teach me a little something about the game. The little boy who had been suspicious of me taught me how to stop the ball with the inside of my 369/711

foot. Ritesh, the boy who didn't like Americans, taught me how to kick the ball, despite his prejudice; my favorite, though, was the shy little girl who had invited me to play in the first place. She taught me how to run around on the outside of the circle without really getting involved at all.

While I played with the children, I watched Kiran walk to each door and knock gently, interacting with the owner of every house. He seemed to be speaking kind words, or he would listen intently to whatever the homeowner had to say. At the end of each visit he would reach into his bag and produce an envelope that looked to be full of money, some bread and a bag of rice before moving on to the next house. Kiran was hugged, bowed to, or said tearful thank yous to, but always he waved it off as being nothing and would graciously return the handshake or hug with equal emotion.

This was a side of him I had never seen before, a side I didn't even know existed. I was blown away by his desire to help these people and my 370/711

heart longed to be a part of the same act of hero-ism. I felt moved by the simplicity of the village and the genuine authenticity of each individual.

But more than that, Kiran moved me. Kiran, in his deep desire to help these people and their love for him, stirred my soul, connecting me more to him than I thought possible. He was a good man.

He would be a great leader.

Eventually he reached the last house; the other occupants had left their houses after Kiran visited them to watch the game happening in the middle of the street. The children continued to laugh at me and my poor attempts at getting involved. I was pathetic and they had too much fun reminding me.

Kiran finished with the last house and walked over to the children, conceding that he would play with them now.

"Lets give Eden a break, shall we?" he turned to wink at me, the mischief back in his happy expression.

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"Yes!" the boys in the group cheered loudly and I couldn't even feel insulted, they were too funny.

I walked over to the edge of the crowd of parents, the little girl with big eyes following me closely, holding on to my skirt and never taking her overly-large brown eyes off of me.

The parents gathered around me, too, engaging me in small talk and voicing their appreciation for Kiran and all the work he had done for them.

I listened to story after story of how he had saved one family or the other over time and how the children loved him for an hour, watching him play tirelessly, laughing more than I had ever seen him.

The sun began to set in the sky, making the can-opied village grow dark. The parents started to call their children in for the night and the game ended. Kiran put Ritesh in charge of the new soccer ball but made him promise to share the ball equally with all of the other children.We said our goodbyes and then climbed back in the waiting 372/711

three wheeler, driving noisily away from the village.

My heart hurt to leave the beauty of those famil-ies behind. I knew I wanted to help them in more ways, offer them everything I had. I smiled peacefully, knowing that a good thing had been done today and that I had been a part of it.

I looked over at Kiran, wanting him to explain today to me. I wanted to know every detail, of how he came to find the village and grow so attached; I wanted to know how often he went there and get even more details out of him than the village parents had offered. But I couldn't break the perfection of the day by questioning it to death. I just stared at him, an amused smile, my permanent companion.

"What?" He grinned, reaching his arm across my shoulder and pulling me close.

"I just.... I had no idea," I smiled back, unable to put into words the feeling that was inside my heart.

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"That is what life is about, isn't it? Not different races or magic or kingdoms or life and death.

That. People. Giving yourself wholly to someone else and making their life better," he kissed the top of my head, sighing sweetly.

"I agree," I mumbled, finding myself choked up and emotional.

"Thank you for coming with me," he whispered into my hair.

"Thank you for taking me," I looked up into his eyes with all the sincerity I felt. He didn't move to kiss me and I knew that a kiss would ruin the moment; it was about something more than physical attraction. This feeling, this connection was defining our relationship.

"Eden, they knew you," Kiran broke the silent moment, his voice more serious than he had been all afternoon.

"What do you mean?" I asked lightly, wondering how any of them could possibly have known me.

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"They said, I mean, each one of them told me that you were part of India. Part of their earth."

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