Tiger Boy

by Mitali Perkins

  “Straight to the pump to wash. And then to bed. Here, give me those books. How did you get them?”

  “That ranger Kushal gave them to me. They’re all about the Sunderbans.”

  She weighed the heaviest one in her hand. “I wish I could read them, too.”

  Neel felt a rush of love for his sister. Rupa deserved to study and learn as much as he did. She was right, and so was the ranger—there were certain things that had to change in the Sunderbans. “I’ll tell you what they say,” he promised.

  “After you win that scholarship,” she said firmly. “Math certainly came in handy when you drew that map of the island, didn’t it? Think you might study any harder now?”

  Neel smiled, yawned again, and stumbled sleepily across the courtyard to the pump. As dirty as he was, he almost hated to scrub away the smells of musky tiger cub, souring goat’s milk, thick creek mud, and salty Sunderbans water.

  Morning came fast. Neel felt as though he’d barely closed his eyes before it was time for breakfast. While the family ate, Baba, Neel, and Rupa described the previous night’s events to a bewildered Ma.

  “Did you get any reward for turning in the cub?” she asked Neel.

  “Yes, Ma, I did.” Neel proudly showed her the five beautiful books the ranger had given him.

  “That’s my smart boy!” she exclaimed, caressing the book covers with one hand and his cheek with the other. She turned suddenly to Baba. “But won’t Gupta’s men come after you?”

  “Let them,” Baba said, smiling at Neel. “A man’s body can bear a beating, but if his soul is damaged . . .”

  “That sounds well and good, Husband, but who will provide for us if something happens to you?”

  A shadow crossed Baba’s face. “I still have to earn money to hire that tutor,” he said.

  “But I’m going to study harder now, Baba!” Neel cried. “I promise!”

  “He will, Baba,” Rupa added. “He’s starting to understand a lot of math. I’ve actually seen him put his skills to use.”

  “The tutor isn’t your worry, children,” Ma said. “Your father and I will discuss it. It’s almost time for school, Neel. Go change or you’ll be late.”

  Neel slowly went inside to put on his uniform. Even if he did study his hardest, would he be able to catch up on the math he needed to solve the problems on the exam? Maybe he did need a tutor. But how could they pay for one, especially now that Baba had no chance of earning anything from Gupta? Suddenly Neel’s eye fell on the beautiful chair and desk Baba had built so carefully, and an idea leaped into his mind. Hmm . . . , he thought, I think I know of one carpentry job on the island. It might be worth a try.

  Baba came inside. “I’m glad you found that cub, Son,” he said slowly. “I can’t tell you how glad. And I do believe you’ll try your best to study in the time you have left. But there isn’t much, and we still need to hire a tutor. I’ll head to Kolkata this afternoon to find carpentry work.”

  “Maybe I do need a tutor, Baba,” Neel said, “but I have another plan—let me give it a try before you leave the island.”

  Baba listened as Neel explained, and then he laughed out loud. “He can only say no. I suppose I can wait until you find out.”

  Neel tucked the map into his pocket and swung his satchel over his shoulder. Baba handed him the small chair he had so lovingly built and carved.

  “Don’t say anything to Ma or Didi,” Neel said. “I want to bring home the good news—if there is any.” Slipping out of the courtyard so his mother and Rupa wouldn’t spot him, he hurried to school.

  Sixteen

  AJAY WAS WAITING impatiently by the well. “Viju told me about your adventures last night! And how you and your baba stood up to Gupta! I wish I could have been there!”

  “The foreman’s pole shattered right when it smashed into Baba’s strong stick! You should have seen it!”

  “Tell me everything—from start to finish!”

  Neel recounted the whole story as they walked to school, prompted by eager questions from his friend.

  “I hope the police arrest Gupta soon,” Ajay said. “He’s going to come after your baba and get his revenge.”

  “Baba’s not worried,” Neel answered. “And the ranger said they’d move quickly.”

  “Why in the world are you bringing that chair to school?” Ajay asked.

  “I’m going to show it to Headmaster,” Neel said.

  “What? Why? You’re going to barge into his office to show him a chair ? Are you crazy?”

  Again, Neel explained his idea.

  Ajay’s smile faded. “So now you actually want to win that scholarship?”

  “I do. I’ve got to give it a try, Ajay.”

  “Oh, well. You still might not win. That’s what I’m hoping for, anyway.”

  His friend was right: Neel might place second, or third, or last. But everything had changed because of the cub’s rescue. He wanted to take good care of her, of his island, and even the rest of the Sunderbans. For the first time since Headmaster had sent that letter, he was going to do his best to win.

  Neel went straight to Headmaster’s office as soon as they arrived. “Hope you come out alive,” Ajay called as he headed for the classroom.

  I hope so, too. Neel gathered his courage. He was a tiger hunter, after all, wasn’t he? He took a deep breath and knocked at the door.

  “Come in,” the familiar voice barked from inside.

  Neel opened the door. “Good morning, sir,” he said, walking up to the desk.

  Headmaster ignored him. He was concentrating on a letter that he’d apparently opened hastily, judging by the ripped envelope. Headmaster read to the end and then read it all the way through again before looking up. Then, to Neel’s amazement, he smiled, stood up, and came around his desk. “You saved that cub, boy?”

  Neel put down the chair with a thud. “I did, sir.”

  “Kushal had the news hand-delivered to me this morning by nauka. Apparently that Gupta man is gone. Vanished in the night.”

  “So quickly? The rangers and police can’t catch him?”

  Headmaster shook his head. “He fled in the night. Must have guessed that your father would testify about his poaching attempt.”

  “He knows everyone trusts Baba’s word,” Neel said.

  “That is true, Neel. Even as a student, your baba never lied to anybody, and an honest witness often brings more shady activities into the light. Gupta may find a way to make trouble somewhere else, but he won’t come back to the Sunderbans. But back to you and the cub—how in the world did you guess where she was hiding?”

  “I’ve played hide-and-seek around here for years, sir.” Neel dug into his pocket and pulled out the map. “So while I was drawing this, I remembered a few places that I thought nobody else knew about.”

  Headmaster unfolded the graph paper. He studied Neel’s map for what seemed like a long time. “Astoundingly accurate,” he murmured, turning the paper upside down and studying it some more. “Not bad, not bad at all. And why are you bringing me a chair?”

  Neel rested his hand on the smooth wood of the chair’s back. “I’m not bringing it to you, sir. I’m only displaying it. My baba made it for me, and I can sit easily for hours on it to study. Have a look.”

  “Your father made that?” Headmaster fingered the intricate carving around the chair’s back, the shining sundari wood, the careful joints and brackets that held the sturdy legs in place. Then he glanced back at his own small, rickety desk and stiff, uncomfortable chair. “It is nicely crafted. Perhaps there is more to Jai than I realized. But why should this matter to me now?”

  “Baba has agreed to build you a beautiful, comfortable new desk and chair, sir. He will measure you from head to toe. Then he will use sundari wood from our trees to build your new furniture to fit you perfectly. It will be strong and will last for a long time.”

  “And why would your baba do this for me?”

  Neel took a deep breath. It was time t
o unveil his entire idea. “He will build you this desk and chair in exchange for your help, sir. He humbly requests that you take on the job of tutoring me in math.”

  “Me? Ha! You must be thinking of that fellow in Kolkata—the miracle worker. You are growling up the wrong bush, my boy, as the English like to say.”

  For the first time, Neel didn’t hold back his correction. “I think you mean ‘barking up the wrong tree,’ sir,” he said.

  “Yes, yes, that’s what I meant. How dare you correct me, boy? Aren’t you asking for my help?”

  “Pardon me, Headmaster. But our family can’t afford that tutor from Kolkata, sir, and I’ve heard you say that math was your best subject. I think I could learn it now—with your help.”

  Headmaster gave Neel a searching look. “Well, if I did take on a student—which I haven’t done in years, mind you—I certainly wouldn’t waste my time teaching someone who doesn’t want that scholarship . . . or have you changed your mind?”

  “Yes, sir, I have. I would like very much to win that scholarship now.”

  “Why?”

  How could he explain his change of heart? Images flew through his mind—his sister sweeping the floor, glancing every now and then at his books and papers; Baba’s strong hand resting on his head; Sundari racing across the reserve to her mother in the shelter of the trees that shared her name; the ranger’s reward of five books waiting to be read, maybe even corrected and improved.

  “I didn’t want to leave the Sunderbans, sir,” he said slowly. “But I see now that I might have to, to learn how to keep the good things here good—for us, and for the trees, and the animals—and maybe even make some things better.”

  “True. Very true.” Headmaster turned to gaze at the schoolyard, where Class Two students were standing in rows and reciting their spelling lessons.

  “I’ll come back, though, sir.” Neel had to say it. “I won’t be like the others who go to study at that school and never come home.”

  “Not all of the scholarship winners leave for good,” Headmaster said, still looking out the window. “One did come back. The last boy from our island who won, in fact.”

  “Really, sir? Who was that?”

  Headmaster turned around. He was smiling. “Me.”

  Neel tried not to show his surprise. “You, sir?”

  Headmaster smiled again. “I’ve been hoping for another winner from our school for years. I thought you might be a possibility from the moment you enrolled. I left my books and magazines in the library so you could keep reading. Your scores in reading and writing were superb, and I almost danced with joy. But you were always weaker in math, and when you stopped trying altogether, I didn’t know what to do.”

  Neel remembered the reading material that used to appear in the library. Headmaster was the magician? It was hard to believe, but somehow now it made sense. “My lack of effort is over now, sir. I promise to try my hardest. We still have some time, sir. Will you teach me?” Neel risked a smile. “Besides, the headmaster of our school needs a fine new chair and desk, doesn’t he?”

  “Perhaps he does, perhaps he does. But it would be a much bigger ‘bird’s wing on my hat’ if you won that scholarship. All right, Neel, we have a deal.”

  Feather in your cap. He didn’t say it aloud this time; there was a right moment for corrections, and this wasn’t it. “You won’t regret it, sir—I promise.”

  “Get ready for a course of intensive mathematics. Every day after school. You are going to master geometry and algebra if it is the last thing I do.”

  Seventeen

  THE GOOD NEWS was that Gupta had disappeared. Nobody knew where he’d gone. His half-finished house stood by the tamarind tree, the only trace left of the big man from the city who had tried to take over their island.

  Viju’s father went back to fishing and would hunt honey when it came in season, and Viju came back sheepishly for the last few weeks of school. “I might as well graduate from Class Five with you two dummies,” he told his friends.

  Ajay and Neel welcomed him back, and so did Headmaster. “You have only two more months left of instruction in this school,” he told all the Class Five students. “Make the best of them.”

  Neel would never forget those long days of studying, spending hours first in the classroom, then in Headmaster’s office, and finally at his desk at home. Math, math, and more math. Sometimes Headmaster got frustrated and crumpled up Neel’s papers, and his red pen flew like a carving knife as he made endless corrections. Other times he made Neel solve the same problem ten times until he was sure Neel understood it. A few times he lost his temper, shouted, and stamped out of the room in disgust. But he always came back.

  Meanwhile Neel sweated, groaned, and came close to tears a number of times. This was the hardest thing he’d done in his life, he decided—much harder than fleeing from a would-be poacher in the middle of the night. The steady, persistent mastery of math required more courage and endurance than that one night had demanded—more than he could muster on his own. But as Neel had anticipated, Headmaster turned out to be a top-notch math teacher despite his impatience. He pulled, pushed, and prodded, and Neel struggled and practiced and memorized, until slowly the mysteries of algebra and geometry managed to untangle in his brain.

  Baba delivered a tailor-made sundari desk and chair to the school the day before the exam. “This is excellent craftsmanship, Jai,” Headmaster said, sitting comfortably in his new chair. “If I can raise enough funds, I might hire you to build new desks for the whole school.”

  “I’d do it, sir,” Baba said. “But you’ll have to provide the wood from outside. My trees need some time to grow back their branches. And I won’t cut down any sundari trees in the reserve.”

  “Nor should you. We’ll find you some good wood elsewhere. I’m getting close to convincing a few key people to invest in our school. Now, Neel, how are you feeling about tomorrow?”

  “Can’t wait until the exam is over, sir.”

  “Just as I felt when I took it,” Headmaster said. “They’ll send me the results here in due time, and I’ll come to your house with the news, good or bad. Get a good night’s sleep tonight.”

  For once, words weren’t enough. Bowing, Neel touched Headmaster’s feet and then his own forehead in a pranam of respect. In return, Headmaster placed his hand on Neel’s head in a gesture of blessing.

  The following morning Neel and Baba said goodbye to Ma and Rupa and then boarded the ferry to the regional scholarship examination center. Students streamed in from villages all across the Sunderbans and took their seats in straight rows. Proctors strode up and down the aisles as they administered the exam.

  Baba sipped cups of tea and chatted with the other parents while Neel took the four-hour test. “How was it?” Baba asked when Neel emerged. “English and Bangla were easy, I know, but how was the math?”

  “I finished all the problems, at least,” Neel said.

  “Well, it’s done, anyway. Now it’s time for a rest, Son. You’ve worked hard.”

  Neel, Ajay, and Viju thoroughly enjoyed that holiday. They played cricket, swam in the pond, and even organized a few games of hide-and-seek for the smaller children in the village. At the end of the hot season, Viju would join his father full-time on his fishing boat or leave with him for Chennai. No more school for him—he was done for good. Ajay would head to the secondary school on a nearby island and keep muddling along for a few more years of schooling. “Until my baba finally gives up on me,” he said ruefully. Neel would either join Ajay or travel all the way to Kolkata to enroll in St. James Secondary Boarding School—if he won the scholarship, that is. He tried not to think about it, and they didn’t talk much about it at home, but he knew the whole family was waiting for Headmaster’s visit.

  One hot April afternoon, while Neel’s family was resting outside in the shade, Gupta’s ex-foreman appeared in the courtyard. He stood gazing up at the sundari trees, and Baba rose to greet him, with Neel following clos
e behind.

  “May we help you?” Baba asked.

  “I came to ask for exactly that,” the man said. “I’m planting some sundari trees on my property, and I want to know where to place them to protect my paddies and pepper field. I live on the next island, and the cyclone hit there almost as hard as it did here. Could you advise me?”

  “Gladly,” Baba said. “I’ll bring my nauka to your place tomorrow. But please wait here for one moment.” He disappeared inside and came out carrying his finest sundari pole. “Here, take this. I’m sorry I broke your pole that night.”

  The man smiled sheepishly as he took Baba’s gift. “This one is much stronger than the one I had. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  The next afternoon, while Baba was out fulfilling his promise, the family had another visitor. It was Headmaster, out of breath and drenched in sweat. Neel, Ma, and Rupa were in the courtyard, and they all leaped to their feet at the sight of him.

  Neel’s heart skipped a beat. Headmaster had said he’d come with good news—or bad.

  “Get me some water, will you, Rupa?” Headmaster asked. “Hotter than ever on this cursed island, isn’t it?”

  Rupa brought the water while Neel tugged a chair into the shade. Ma brought out a big banana leaf and began fanning Headmaster.

  “Where is your father, Neel?” Headmaster asked after chugging the water in one gulp.

  “He’ll be home shortly, sir,” Neel said. And then he risked it: “Do you have news about the exam, sir?”

  Headmaster smiled. “I do,” he said. He stood up and faced Neel. “I wanted to tell your father, but maybe you deserve to hear it first. You scored higher than any boy from the Sunderbans in English and Bangla.”

  “Ay-yo!” Ma said, and then clapped her hand over her mouth. Neel could tell that Rupa was still holding her breath.

  “What about math, sir?” he asked.

  “Well, you didn’t do that badly in math either,” Headmaster said, clapping Neel on the shoulders with both hands. “Not the highest score in the region, by any means, but just high enough.”