It had been two days since Dechhen last saw her father. Aama said it did not matter if he never came home. 'We don't really need him, Dechhen,' she said, as she angrily whacked a yak that was straying from the line with a switch, baby Phurba tied to her back with a brown scarf. 'The yaks basically graze themselves, and once winter comes they don't need to be taken to pasture any more. We don't need your father; my mother raised me all alone for years before she married Gaga Denji. I can raise two children on my own.' She whacked another yak as it stopped to munch on some grass by the side of the steps; it grunted and jogged back into the line.

Dechhen said nothing. She had mostly said nothing for the last two days as her mother raged and asserted that they didn't need Papa. Instead, she only listened and did what she was asked to do; practice her alphabets with Aamgaga, help Aama cook and clean at home and take care of baby Phurba. Aama was very angry, and it would take very little wrongdoing on her part for that anger to turn to her. So she said nothing.

During the day Aama was angry, but at night she would get very sad. Dechhen had heard Aama sob in her room the night before. Hearing her mother cry made her cry. Weeping, she had climbed up the stairs to her parents' bedroom and onto their bed where her mother lay curled up in a ball. Through her tears she had asked her mother repeatedly, 'Why are you crying, Aama?' But Aama said nothing; she only held Dechhen tightly in her arms, rocking her back and forth, her body heaving as she sobbed. Dechhen could not remember how long after that they fell asleep.

Aama dropped Dechhen off at the Gumba gate and turned the yaks back. Ajyang was at the courtyard, waiting with something in his hand; he ran over to the gate.

'Bye Aaji!' Ajyang called out to Aama who was already several steps away from them; she did not turn back. Ajyang looked at her and the yaks lumbering away for a few seconds, then turned to Dechhen.

'Look what I got for you!' he said, holding out a wooden box that had three holes carved out of its lid.

'Did you get a frog?!' Dechhen exclaimed.

'No, Pala said putting a frog in the box would kill it; but he gave me a different idea!' Ajyang said, opening the box. Inside, Ajyang had divided the box into two sections using small wooden planks; on one side he had laid some hay and on the other he had laid stones and pebbles.

Dechhen looked at Ajyang confused.

'I made a house for the snow leopard!' Ajyang exclaimed. 'This is the mountain cave where the snow leopard lives,' he said, pointing at the section with the stones, 'and this is the snow leopard’s front yard,' he pointed at the section with the hay.

'It doesn't look like a cave.' Dechhen said.

'Not yet, no,' Ajyang said, 'I have been waiting for you to get here so we could see how big a cave the snow leopard needs; we can then make a cave!'

'Do you know how to make a cave?' Dechhen asked.

'It can't be very difficult; all I am going to do is use bits of buckwheat dough to stick the stones together! We can try it later after lunch!' Ajyang said. ‘Aama is in the Gumba right now, come say hi to her!’

The two children went into the Gumba.

'Dechhen! Is that you?' Aamgaga called out to Dechhen through the large double door that led into the Gumba.

'Yes, Aamgaga!' Dechhen said, poking her head through the door. Aamgaga was sitting cross-legged on the other side of the massive Gumba hall, making oil lamp wicks out of a large ball of cotton and placing them on a flat wicker tray. Behind her, the imposing gold statue of the Druk flanked by the Wind Horse on the left and the Garuda on the right surveyed the hall atop a dark redwood pedestal. The yellow walls of the hall were adorned by large, colourful and intricate paintings depicting stories from the lives of the Druk, the Wind Horse, and the Garuda on long cloth canvas. Low, long redwood benches were pushed against the walls to the right and the left of the hall. A massive red and gold carpet was rolled out on the centre of the hardwood floor.

'Go wash your hands and come help me, you two!' Aamgaga said.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Dechhen and Ajyang dutifully ran to the water tap outside, washed their hands, and returned to the Gumba. They took their boots off and placed them at the shoe rack next to the door that led to the hall and bowed to the Druk, the Wind Horse, and the Garuda as they walked across the hall.

'Here,' Aamgaga said, tearing off two large wads of cotton from the cotton ball next to her and passing them over to Dechhen and Ajyang. Dechhen pulled a small bit of cotton from her wad and began twisting one end of the cotton with her thumb and forefinger as she held the other end in place in her other hand.

'Is your Papa back home yet?' Aamgaga asked.

'No,' Dechhen said, focused on the cotton in her hand.

'So did your Aama take the yaks to pasture today as well?' Aamgaga asked again.

'Yes.' Dechhen said, her eyes still firmly on the cotton. She wanted to make sure to twist it properly; otherwise they would not stand erect.

'How is your Aama doing?' Aamgaga asked.

Dechhen shrugged her shoulders. The cotton in her hand was now a long, twisted rope. Carefully, she folded the rope into half. It immediately twisted onto itself; Dechhen held the wick upright to see if held its shape. It looked a little wonky, but it remained upright.

'I made one!' Dechhen exclaimed happily.

'Good job!' Aamgaga said, smiling.

'I have already made three, and you are bragging about the one?' Ajyang teased. Dechhen stuck her tongue out at her uncle.

'She is doing very well, Tashi, leave her be,' Aamgaga said. 'Has your Aama said anything about your Papa?'

'She said we don't need him, and she can look after me and Phurba herself, but last night she was crying.' Dechhen said, twisting another wad of cotton.

Aamgaga sighed.

'If Aaji and Chhau Phuri separate, are you going to find her another husband?' Ajyang asked.

Dechhen glared at Ajyang, anger rising within her. 'My parents are not separating!' she said, lunging at Ajyang to smack him. Ajyang ducked and Dechhen missed his shoulder.

'Did you see!? She is always trying to hit me!' Ajyang said indignantly.

'Stop it, you two!' Aamgaga said sharply, 'They are not separating, Tashi, stop saying foolish things!'

'But you and Aaji's Pala separated because he too was drinking during the day!' Ajyang said.

'My Aama and Papa are not separating!' Dechhen said through gritted teeth, her voice cracking with anger.

'Sit down, Dechhen!' Aamgaga said, grabbing Dechhen's arm. She hadn't realized she had gotten up; her hands were curled into fists so tight that her nails dug painfully into her palms.

'He started it!' Dechhen spat out angrily.

'I am not asking who started what, I am telling you to sit down right now,' Aamgaga said sharply, tugging on her arm, 'And you, Tashi, don't speak about things you don't understand!'

Dechhen said down grumbling under her breath. Grown-ups were never fair. She picked up the ball of cotton her grandmother had given to her and threw it away from her with all her might. It landed only a few inches away from her feet. This infuriated her even more.

'I am sorry,' Ajyang mumbled.

'See, your Ajyang is apologizing to you,' Aamgaga said, picking up the ball of cotton Dechhen had thrown and placing it on her lap. 'Now, what do we say when someone says they are sorry?'

Dechhen shrugged.

'What do we say, Dechhen?' Aamgaga insisted, this time with a hint of impatience in her voice that Dechhen immediately took note of.

'It's okay.' Dechhen mumbled back, not looking at Ajyang.

'And?' Aamgaga pressed on.

'And what?' Dechhen said, squinting at her grandmother through a side-eye.

'And you are sorry too, aren't you?' Aamgaga said.

'I am sorry.' Dechhen mumbled.

'I don't think she means it,' Ajyang said.

'Tashi, don't start again.' Aamgaga snapped.

'It's okay.' Ajyang said reluctantly.

'Good boy.' Aamgaga said. 'Now, why don't we all pray to the Druk and ask that they look after both of you, and Dechhen's Aama and Papa?'

Dechhen and Ajyang nodded.

Aamgaga set the wicker tray aside and turned to face the massive statues of the Druk, the Wind Horse, and the Garuda, kneeling with her hands folded and heads bowed. Ajyang kneeled beside her. Dechhen got on her knees as well and shuffled up close to her grandmother. Her hands folded, she looked up into the Druk's emerald eyes. The Druk's wide mouth hung open as though they were on the verge of saying something to Dechhen. Aamgaga gently pushed Dechhen's head down, reminding her to keep her head bowed.

'O Precious One, Please protect my granddaughter and keep her safe; may she have a long, healthy life and may she grow to be kind, dutiful, and loving towards all creatures,' Aamgaga said, 'Please protect my son and keep him safe; may he have a long, healthy life and may he grow to be kind, dutiful, and loving towards all creatures.'

Dechhen listened to her grandmother's words with her eyes closed. The sweet, smoky smell of burning incense and her grandmother's soft, comforting voice washed over her like warm sunshine.

'Also, please look after my daughter and her husband; may they find an answer to their problems and come together as a family. Om Maane Padme Hum.'

'Om Maane Padme Hum.' Dechhen and Ajyang repeated.

'There, the Druk has now heard our prayers; all will be well,' Aamgaga said. Dechhen opened her eyes. She felt calmer; the anger within her had dissipated.

'Will the Druk get Papa to come home now, Aamgaga?' Dechhen asked.

'The Druk will answer our prayers in the way they see fit.' Aamgaga said.

'What does that mean? He won't come home?' Dechhen asked.

'I don't know, Dechhenla, I only know that the Druk has now heard us. Don't worry, my child, the Druk knows what is right for us, more than we know ourselves. They are always looking after us. We can only wait and see.'

Dechhen was very confused.