Dechhen was not a big fan of boiled potatoes. Peeling them was a hassle; they were always too hot and too sticky, and sometimes bits of potato skin would get stuck under her fingernails. Sometimes the potato skin would get stuck so far in her nails it would hurt for days. When Aamgaga was around, she would always peel the potatoes for her; but Ajyang did not. He put the boiled potatoes in a bowl in front of them and placed a small bowl of butter and another small bowl of garlic-chilli paste next to the potatoes. Dechhen looked at the food and then at Ajyang expectantly.
'Go on, help yourself,' Ajyang said, as he sat down next to Dechhen and grabbed a potato.
'Shouldn't we wait for Gaga Denji?' Dechhen asked.
'I am hungry, he won't mind if we eat,' Ajyang said, holding the hot potato gingerly between his fingers and peeling them with swiftness and skill.
Dechhen picked a potato gingerly and immediately dropped it onto her plate. It was too hot; she blew on her fingers, then crouched low to blow onto the potato.
Just then, Dechhen heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the door outside.
'Gaga Denji!' Dechhen exclaimed, and she scrambled up on to her feet and stuck her head out the kitchen door.
'I smell potatoes!' Gaga Denji said, as he took off his boots and placed them on the shoe rack.
'Ajyang made them,' Dechhen said.
'Is Aamgaga not home?' Gaga Denji asked. Dechhen shook her head to say no.
Gaga Denji walked into the kitchen and lay his axe next to the door. 'Where is your mother?' he asked Ajyang. With his mouth full of potatoes, Ajyang shrugged his shoulders. 'She didn't say where she's going,' he said, flecks of food flying from his mouth as he spoke.
Gaga Denji frowned and climbed up the stairs next to the door. Dechhen sat down, picked her potato gingerly between her fingers, blew onto it, and put it down again. Maybe Gaga Denji would peel it for her.
Gaga Denji returned, having taken off his heavy jacket and rolled his sleeves up. Ajyang leaped to his feet, grabbed a plate for his father, and gave it to him just as Gaga Denji sat down next to Dechhen.
'When did Aama leave?' Gaga Denji asked, picking up Dechhen's potato from her plate and peeling it for her. Dechhen felt relieved.
'After Chhau Phuri left.' Ajyang said.
'Was Chhau here for long?' Gaga Denji asked again.
Ajyang shook his head to say no. 'He left maybe ten minutes after you left,' he said.
'Aamgaga and Papa were arguing!' Dechhen said. Ajyang glared at Dechhen, but she didn't notice.
'They were arguing? What about?' Gaga Denji asked, placing a peeled potato on Dechhen's plate, and picking up another.
'I don't know, I didn't hear anything,' Ajyang said, not looking up from his meal.
'I think it was about the Druk.' Dechhen said.
'Did you hear them talk about the Druk?' Gaga Denji asked Dechhen.
Dechhen looked at Ajyang, who was now glaring at his plate.
'Uhm, no...' Dechhen said, looking at Ajyang uncertainly. 'We weren't listening in on Aamgaga and Papa's conversation,' she said.
'Then why do you think it was about the Druk?' Gaga Denji asked.
'Because my parents were arguing about the Druk last night.' Dechhen said.
'What were they saying?' Gaga Denji asked again.
Dechhen looked at Ajyang again. He did not lift his head as he dipped a peeled potato into the garlic-chilli paste.
'It's okay, Dechhenla, you are not in trouble.' Gaga Denji said gently. Dechhen picked up the potato on her plate, which was by now cool to touch. She broke it in half and dipped it into the butter.
'Papa said the Druk is old and dying,' Dechhen said, 'Is it true?'
'Of course not! The Druk is immortal, everybody knows that!' Ajyang said.
'I see,' Gaga Denji said. 'Did you hear anything else?'
'Papa also said the Uttaris are going to attack and kill us all and the Druk cannot save us,' Dechhen said.
'No wonder Aama was mad at Chhau Phuri. He is a liar!' Ajyang said. 'Nobody can defeat the Druk, the Druk is the most powerful being in the world!'
'My Papa doesn't lie!' Dechhen said angrily, punching Ajyang on his arm with all her might.
'Oww! Pala!' Ajyang exclaimed.
'Dechhen, don't hit your uncle!' Gaga Denji said.
'But he said my Papa is a liar!' Dechhen said angrily.
'Doesn't mean you can hit your uncle. And Tashi, don't talk about your Chhau like that.' Gaga Denji said.
'But he is lying!' Ajyang said pouting.
'It doesn't matter. You must respect your elders and trust that they will resolve any problems they have. Do you both understand?' Gaga Denji said.
Dechhen and Ajyang nodded sullenly.
'Did Aama say when she is getting to back?' Gaga Denji asked, dipping a peeled potato onto the garlic-chilli paste.
'She said maybe she would be here by lunchtime, but she isn't here yet,' Ajyang said sullenly.
'Well maybe she will here soon then. Now finish your lunch, you two, and no more arguing, okay?' Gaga Denji said.
'Okay,' Ajyang said. Dechhen nodded.
The rest of the lunch was quiet. Dechhen was still angry at Ajyang, but she couldn't say anything while Gaga Denji was there. She was also angry at Gaga Denji, and in fact a little angry at all adults. Grown-ups always said she had to shut up and listen to her elders even if they were wrong. But everybody was older than her; it wasn't fair. Except for baby Phurba, who was a baby, so everybody took his side even when he was being annoying. It really was unfair.
After lunch, Ajyang collected all the plates and utensils and took them to the water tap outside. Dechhen did not follow him; instead, she pulled out the toy snow leopard from her pocket and played with it on her own. Gaga Denji sat next to Dechhen and put his arm around her.
'Are you angry, Dechhen?' Gaga Denji asked.
Dechhen shook her head to say no but did not look at him.
'Dechhenla, you know that it is not good to hit your elders, don't you?' Gaga Denji said.
'But he was calling my Papa a liar! He was not respecting his elders!' Dechhen said indignantly.
Gaga Denji sighed. 'You know, sometimes your elders say and do stupid things. Even though they are your elders, they can make mistakes too.'
'Then why do I have to respect them and listen to them always?' Dechhen interjected.
'Because they have more experience than you and have learned so much more about the world. Your elders only want to teach you what they have learned, and they only want the best for you. You know that don't you?'
Dechhen nodded.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
'You know that Ajyang loves you and wants the best for you, don't you?'
Dechhen nodded again.
'Sometimes, Ajyang makes mistakes, but you must remember all that he does for you every day, and let it go, okay? Respect his love for you, his experience, and give him the space to sometimes make mistakes, okay?' Gaga Denji said.
'And what if he never learns?' Dechhen said.
'Of course he will. But you have to at least give him that chance. Don't just punch him, or anyone for the matter; if he says or does something wrong, look away. He will figure it out on his own, he has earned that right by having lived longer and having cared for you. Don't you see?' Gaga Denji said.
'I guess.' Dechhen said.
Gaga Denji planted a kiss on Dechhen's head and got up on his feet. 'Why don't we go down together and say sorry to Ajyang? After all, he did look after you while Aamgaga was away and made you lunch, didn't he?'
'Okay, Gaga.' Dechhen said and got up on her feet. The two walked out of the house to the water tap.
Ajyang was crouching down as he washed the dishes, his hands black with clay. As Dechhen and Gaga Denji approached him, he turned around to look at them.
'Are you going to the workshop now, Pala?' Ajyang asked, pointedly not looking at Dechhen.
'Yes; Dechhen has something to say to you. Don't you, Dechhen?' Gaga Denji said, looking at Dechhen.
Dechhen looked at her feet. 'I am sorry for punching you Ajyang,' Dechhen said.
'That's okay.' Ajyang said, turning back to the dishes.
'Good! I am off to work now, Tashi, look after Dechhen until your sister comes to pick her up, all right?' Gaga Denji said.
'Okay.' Ajyang said.
'Dechhenla, I will see you tomorrow then, okay?' Gaga Denji said, ruffling her hair.
'Bye Gaga Denji!' Dechhen said. Gaga Denji walked away several steps, stopped to look back at the two children by the water tap, and then left.
Dechhen stood awkwardly for a few seconds, watching Ajyang silently scrub a big copper pot with black clay. She wanted to ask Ajyang what they would be doing after he was finished with the dishes, but she wasn't sure if he was still annoyed at her. Ajyang glanced at Dechhen.
'Do you want a pet frog?' he asked.
Dechhen immediately felt excited. 'Yes! Do you have a frog?' she asked.
'Pala gave me a nice wooden box yesterday; we should collect some soil and grass, lay them on the box and then later today we can go to the river to catch one. It shouldn't be too difficult.' Ajyang said.
'But Aamgaga said we shouldn't leave the Gumba.' Dechhen said.
'We will only go after Aama returns, for now let's just make a nice home for the frog. What say?' Ajyang said, looking at Dechhen with a big grin in his face.
Dechhen clapped, jumped up and down, and nodded excitedly, 'Yes! Let's do it!'
Grinning, Ajyang put all the clean dishes on a large wooden tub and left them out in the sun to dry. He ran back into the house and returned a few minutes later with a small plain wooden box.
'We need to make holes on the top of the box so the frog can breathe,' he said, showing the box to Dechhen.
'How are we going to make the holes?' Dechhen asked.
'I will ask Pala later to do it for me; for now, let's just collect some soil and grass,' Ajyang said.
The Gumba’s backyard had been largely left to its own devices; the ground was hard and mostly barren, covered in tiny pebbles and a few tufts of grass scattered here and there. Dechhen found a fairly sharp stone and began using it to dig the ground. It was hard work; she gathered small handfuls of soil and put them in the box. Ajyang used a small trowel he found to carefully pull the grass out with their roots intact. The two children were so engrossed in their little project that they did not hear or notice their mothers approach them.
'Dechhen, what are you doing?' Aama said.
Dechhen looked up from her endeavours; her mother, who was carrying baby Phurba, and her grandmother stood by the Gumba. Her mother looked livid. She got up, scared.
'We are just playing,' she said, glancing at Ajyang, who had stopped digging as well and was now on his feet looking at the two women.
'We are leaving now, Dechhen, let's go,' Aama said.
'Now?' Dechhen said, scared and confused. She looked at Aamgaga, at Ajyang, and then at Aama.
'Maybe you should leave Dechhen and Phurba with me for now, Tsering Dolma,' Aamgaga said.
'Don't waste my time Dechhen, we need to go,' Aama said with a steely voice, still looking at Dechhen.
Dechhen looked at Ajyang, who looked at her blankly. She dropped her stone and walked up to her mother.
'Are we going to the forest or are we going home, Aama?' Dechhen asked.
'Why is your hand covered in dirt? Wash your hands right now and let's go.' Aama said.
'I really don't think you should be taking the children with you - '
'Aama, don't get in the way please.' Aama cut her mother off.
Dechhen ran to the water tap and quickly washed her hands. Her heart was beating hard; her mother was very angry at something. She tried to think of what she may have done wrong; did her mother find out that she had been awake last night and was listening in to her parents' conversation? Did Gaga Denji tell her? Or was it something else, maybe she forgot to close her bedroom window and the wild cat had gotten in the kitchen again...
Dechhen was barely done washing her hands when her mother grabbed her arm and half dragged her with her.
'Aama, it hurts!' Dechhen said, tears welling up in her eyes. Aama let go of her arm.
'Well then hurry, Dechhen! I don't have all day!' she snarled.
Aama walked swiftly around the back of the Gumba, across the courtyard, and out the gate. Dechhen half ran to keep up with her mother, glancing back at her grandmother and uncle. Ajyang and Aamgaga had followed them to the gates and were now standing uncertainly; Ajyang looked confused and scared, and Aamgaga looked concerned.
Aama walked down the steps so quickly Dechhen had to run to keep up. She had no idea where they were going but was too afraid to ask. They weren't going to the forest, that much was clear; they were walking down the steps towards the village, not to the outskirts. Aama did not stop even when they reached the foot of the steps. It didn't look like they were going home either; she was walking in an entirely different direction. Baby Phurba giggled and clapped his hand happily on Aama's back as he bounced with every angry step Aama took, completely oblivious.
Aama took a turn into an alleyway so narrow that Dechhen almost missed it as she scrambled to keep up with her mother. The walls of houses and small shops pressed close with just enough room for one person to pass through. A little further in, the alleyway widened as they approached a dead-end. On the left was the back of a tall white house; on the right was a dark, seedy-looking shop with a narrow, low door. Aama and Dechhen walked through the door; they found themselves in a small, dark corridor that led to another door at the end. Muffled sounds of people talking and laughing came through that door. A woman wearing a scruffy looking bakkhu with dark brown splotches poked her head out of another door to their left; she looked at Aama and the children with wariness.
'Tashi Delek, can I help you?' the woman asked, looking at the children and then at Aama.
'Tashi Delek. I am looking for my husband, I think he might be here,' Aama said.
The woman stared at Aama for a few seconds, sighed, and pointed at the door at the end of the corridor. 'Go through that door, but please don't cause too much of a scene.' she said, retreating back into the room she came from.
Aama grabbed Dechhen's hand as she approached the door. Dechhen did not feel very safe. She had a distinct feeling that children were not supposed to be in this place.
Aama pushed the door open; Dechhen immediately covered her nose and mouth. The pungent stench of tobacco smoke and alcohol assaulted her senses and disoriented her for a second. The air was so thick with tobacco smoke that it enveloped the entire room under a thick fog. It was a large-ish rectangular room, with ten or twelve low tables that were placed in a semi-organised manner. Men and women were gathered around the tables, laughing, smoking, and drinking. They were all so engrossed in their own groups that nobody noticed the woman with a baby on her back and a small child in tow.
Still covering her nose, Dechhen looked up at her mother, wondering what they were doing in a place like this. Her mother scanned around the room and locked her eyes on one of the tables, anger resurging in her face. Dechhen looked at the table she was looking at; in the far-right corner of the room Papa sat amongst seven or eight other people, laughing. His eyes were bloodshot red, a smoking pipe in one hand and a small drinking bowl in another.
Aama almost sprinted across the room, dragging Dechhen with her who half-stumbled several times and whacked her knee on the corners of one of the tables.
'You!' Aama screeched as she made her way to Papa's table; Papa looked up; all mirth left his face. The people he was sitting with looked at her as well; some of them got up.
'What are you doing here - ' Papa said getting up, then noticed Dechhen, whose eyes were welled with tears yet again, and baby Phurba, who had stopped giggling and was now sucking his thumb.
'Why did you bring the children here?' Papa said angrily.
'Tashi Delek, Chham - ' one of the men sitting next to Papa started but stopped as he saw the look in Aama's face.
Aama lunged across the table and slapped Papa across the face. She hit him so hard he stumbled backwards and leaned against the wall. Everybody in the room was now silent; all eyes were at them.
Dechhen started crying. She wasn't sure what was going on but seeing her mother so angry and hitting her father confused and scared her. She felt like something within her chest was pushing up against her ribs as she sobbed and let out heart-rending wails. The tears began to cloud her vision; she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and wiped the tears away, but they came as fast as she wiped them. Baby Phurba looked at Dechhen and began wailing at the top of his voice as well.
'You see what you are doing to your children? You see?' Aama snarled, breathing heavily, her eyes flashing with anger.
'What I am doing? What are you doing here with them?' Papa said, slurring a little, stumbling to find his balance and glaring at Aama with rivalling fierceness.
'They need to see who their father is. They need to know what their father cares more about than them, this - ' Aama picked up the small metal bowl Papa was drinking from and threw it at his face; he spluttered and took several steps back as the drink splashed across his face and the bowl bounced against his nose and fell on the ground; 'and these conspiracy theories that you hatch with these people, they need to know what you have become!'
Papa wiped the alcohol off of his face and eyes.
'Go home, Tsering Dolma.' he said.
Aama looked taken aback. She stood silent for a few seconds, and then said, 'Are you not coming with me?'
Papa said nothing. He did not meet Aama's eyes and sat down again on the table. Slowly, he picked the bowl she had thrown at him, dusted it, and poured another drink into it. Aama's lips twitched. Her eyes filled with tears, and she squeezed Dechhen's hand so hard that Dechhen thought she might break a few fingers.
But the tears never fell; it was as if her eyes had absorbed them back. Her face now looked cold and empty.
'If you don't come with me now, don't come home.' she said.
Papa said nothing. He did not look at Aama or at the children and took a sip. Aama looked at Papa for a few seconds. She then turned and left, pulling Dechhen along with her.
Dechhen was still crying, but more quietly now. Her breath had now become short rhythmic gasps and her face felt hot and swollen. As they walked away, she looked at Papa, whose friends were now huddled around him and whispering something. For a fleeting second, their eyes met; Papa looked away quickly. Dechhen wanted to call out to him; she wanted to ask him to please just come home with them; but the words were stuck in her throat.