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COCHIN INTERNATIONAL Airport’s main terminal consisted of a long, white painted hallway with a curved roof. Numerous kiosks and boarding gates lined the sides, with travelers and service people moving back and forth along the shiny, marbled white floors.
Scott Dirkse adjusted his wire rimmed glasses while making his way along the concourse, occasionally pausing to look at a few native handicrafts being displayed in the shops. He was careful not to venture too far out, and stayed mostly in the main hall. This being his first time in a foreign country, he was too keyed up to rest.
When his parents gave him the news, he was enthusiastic about going. Finally, a chance to get away from the bullies! Scott was tired of his classmates, and tired of the indifferent teachers. Every time he walked along the school corridor to get to his locker, one of the other boys would try to trip him up. Sometimes they stalked him to get the combination of his lock when he wasn’t looking and throw all of his stuff into the trashcan. He had to go to the administration office twice to get a new locker. They even stole the math book from his backpack when he took the hall pass to go take a piss in the bathroom.
He had a few friends, mostly in the science fiction club, but every time he spoke up in class the others would make fun of him. Scott had thought about going to the dean to report the ones who were bullying him, but he didn’t want to be known as a snitch. At lunch he’d mostly eat by himself, or he’d browse books at the library. Now it all seemed like another planet far, far away, and he was glad of it.
Scott wandered over to the entrance of a toyshop. Long red painted shelves showed strange looking dolls and figurines. Chinese paper lanterns hung from the ceiling. A full-size mockup of a three-wheeled motorcycle with a passenger seat at the back occupied the middle of the store, and it had been painted in bright green with a sign that said “Bollywood” on the front. Bollywood? he thought. Is that like Hollywood?
Many of the local women passing through wore long, brightly hued dresses that reminded him of the Spanish flag. He had never seen so many Indians before, and it fascinated him. There were occasional travelers from the West passing through, and they were dressed like hippies with their sun-bleached, faux braided hair and worn out clothing, their suntanned faces staring blankly forward as they trod away wearing dirty sandals or ragged boots.
A small boy, seemingly no more than four years old, walked up to him and smiled. Scott smiled back. The tyke seemed to have thick mascara on the bottom of his eyelids, and his fingernails were painted in bright red. Scott wondered if the small child was truly male, for despite the sweater and the jeans, he couldn’t imagine a boy wearing makeup or having colored cuticles like that. Scott also noticed a black string with a tiny gold bell tied around the little one’s waist.
A gray-haired woman in a traditional dress called out to the little boy, and the toddler turned around and hurried away. Scott pivoted and walked back into the toy shop.
A middle-aged female attendant dressed in an office uniform smiled at him from behind the counter. “Can I help you with anything?”
“I’ve just got a question,” Scott said. “How come that little kid I just saw wore girl’s makeup?”
The woman laughed. “It is kohl, a cosmetic used since ancient times. We call it kanmashi here, and it is very common. It cools your eyes when you’re out in the sun for long periods of time.”
Scott raised his eyebrows. “Oh, I get it. Over in America, we call it eye black. We use it in sports, like football.”
“Your first time in India?”
“My first time outside America,” Scott said. “I got another question.”
“Go ahead and ask.”
“I noticed the little kid also had a string around his hips with a medal on it. What’s that about?”
“It is a charm, worn by most children his age,” the woman said. “To protect against misfortune and the evil eye.”
“The evil eye? What’s that?”
She paused before answering him. “The evil eye is a curse.”
Scott started to laugh. “You really believe in all that?”
“Many people here do.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
He walked back out into the concourse. That’s silly. We were taught about science in school, and everyone here seems to be wearing some sort of charm, like a protection against witches or something.
Scott began to make his way back towards the lounge. He remembered seeing a pastry and dessert bar before he left the room, and now he felt somewhat hungry for a snack. I hope they’ve got ice cream.
The momentary distraction of his thoughts made him bump into the side of an elderly man walking the concourse. Scott took a step back. “Oh, sorry.”
The man had a long white beard, extending all the way down to his scrawny chest. The bright saffron colored robes he wore and the red line in the middle of his forehead seemed to mark him as a holy man of some sort. His deep brown eyes locked onto the boy’s spectacled blues, and his clawed hand gripped Scott’s shoulder so tightly it hurt.
Scott tried to wriggle away but he couldn’t. “Ow, I said I was sorry, mister.”
The old man continued to stare at him. His quivering voice spoke in perfect English, even though his lips seemed to move differently. “You will face the evil one, child. Take this.” He thrust something into the boy’s palm before letting him go and moved away, quickly disappearing into the ever-moving crowd.
Scott stood still as more people passed him by. For a long minute he felt something cold and dark, as if a ghostly set of yellow eyes were watching from afar before the vision suddenly ended. He looked at his hand and found a small silver medallion in his palm. The figure depicted on the ornament seemed to vaguely resemble a man, but with four arms, sitting in a lotus position.
He heard a familiar voice calling out to him. “Scotty, come on. Over here.”
Turning to his left, he spotted his dad, standing near the entrance of the VIP lounge. Scotty waved before trotting over, narrowly missing a collision with another traveler.
Nick gave him a gentle smile while opening the glass door behind him. “Come on, we’ll be boarding the plane to the resort in about fifteen minutes.”
“Can I get something to eat before we go?”
“Sure,” Nick said. “There’s a full range buffet in this lounge.” He noticed Scott was holding on to something. “What have you got there?”
The boy quickly pocketed it in his jeans without showing it. He didn’t want his dad to think he stole something. “Oh, it’s nothing. Did you see a bearded Indian priest talking to me?”
Nick shook his head. “Nope. I just saw you by yourself in the middle of the corridor. I think they call them yogis here, but none of them were next to you. Did something happen?”
Scott shook his head while walking back inside the lounge. He was somewhat confused by what the old man had said to him, but the last thing he wanted was to make his dad think he was scared or in some sort of trouble. “No, nothing happened. I was just poking around.”
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