escapes from Lanying’s face.
We must have walked in the middle of her telling a most entertaining story, for the circle of nuns in front of her is slapping their knees and holding their bellies with laughter.
The abbess waves her hand at the red-robed bustle scattered around. “Lanying!” Her voice pitches, her eyebrows draw down.
“Would you believe this bunch of boisterous nuns?” Her voice carries a restrained edge as her eyes flash from the nuns to Lanying. “You put all my disciplinary efforts to shame with your fantastic tales of faraway travels.” She sighs, a stern stare on her face. “What to do with you all?”
A suspended silence crashes down on the earth-beaten floor as she looks around the row of bowed heads. I hold my breath, for I know this situation all too well. Catching my sisters and me over and over again in idle chats and futile amusement, I too outdid my grandmother’s honest attempts to guide us on the path—far too many times.
Vicarious shame flushes my face, and I glance at Lanying, who still stands there, feet wide apart, hands on her hips. My mind boggles—has this woman no shame? A loud pang from the banged-up stove dissolves into thin air. My toes curl in my sandals. Could this situation be any more awkward? I cast my eyes at the door. My mind’s already running down the front steps. Just when I’m about to clear my throat and offer our apologies, Lanying bellies a loud laughter.
“You get me time and time again, ama-la.” She leaps over to the abbess and throws her arms around the tiny woman. A brazen hug almost knocks the both of them to the floor.
Spotting a wide grin, the abbess cradles Lanying’s face in her hands. “I did, didn’t I?” She pinches her nose.
Relief soars through my body as Lanying’s eyes mock me over ama-la’s shoulders. They’re only joking.
With a surge, the flock of red robes rises and buzzes around again, this time to make space for us in their circle, serving piping hot tea and fresh fried bread. And to listen to the end of Lanying’s story, of course, which turns out to be only the beginning—the stories that woman can tell. She keeps us bound to our seat for many cups of tea with news from the borders and forgotten tales of long-lost kingdoms. And as we share laughter and food, thoughts and tales, I’ve never felt more at home, home amongst sisters.
“Told you these nuns have no pretense.” Lanying’s arm hooks mine as we skip out of the white-washed enclosure.
I nod, my head light, and my heart filled with joy. How good it was to spend time here.
I turn to the abbess for a last blessing. She stands in the doorway, her hands folded in her frayed sleeves. I’m about to bow my head when Lanying grips the abbess by the arm.
“Ama-la, so sorry, I forgot,” she says in an unusually hushed voice. “Sister here is looking for her uncle.” Her eyes dart over to me and back to the abbess, a deep blue glister shines through. “Did anybody of interest happen to come by these last days?”
I freeze, and the iron fist around my heart clenches tight. Uncle. My jaw drops. Lanying just asked ama-la about my uncle. She sure doesn’t let it rest.
The abbess’s hand sways in mid-air and with a waver she rests it on my shoulder. “An odd couple came by a few days ago.” She pauses. “I noticed they were from the old way too.”
My mind jolts at the possibility. Uncle and Khandro-la? Could it be my uncle and the ngakpa’s wife she’s talking about? My body tenses at the thought of it.
“They didn’t hide it, anyway.” The abbess shakes her head.
“The old way, huh.” Lanying’s voice sharp, she leans in. “What did they want?”
A sudden icy breeze whooshes around the first fallen leaves of autumn. The old way. I draw my scarf. This could be Khandro-la, but Uncle?
“Nothing much,” the abbess says. “They brought us some offerings and spent some time in there.” She points her head and all three of us turn to the tiny temple.
“Yeah, right, I doubt they were repenting their devious deeds.” Lanying snorts, an icy smile curls around her lips. “Well, at least you’re right on their trail.” She raises her chin. “And with Karma and Dendup on your side…”
She doesn’t finish her sentence. She doesn’t have to. The proud f of assumed victory on her face says it all. Nausea churns my stomach. I dig my nails into the palms of my hand. Not now. I draw a deep breath and clear my throat.
“Yes, I’m on the right path,” I say, my voice a thick blur. “The pilgrim’s path to Lhasa, that is.”
Lanying’s eyebrows arch as I look her straight in the eye. Not now. I don’t want my thoughts to wander to futures unknown. I want to be present and clear, and delight in merit of the pilgrimage like I have been able to do for the last few days. I turn my face to the auburn sky, the flaring orange amongst opal heralds the arrival of dusk. “We’ll go down now, or we won’t have much light left.”
I bow my head to ama-la. A high chirp chatters from the slanted rooftop, followed by a loud swish around our heads. We both glance up at the same time to see a pair of grandalas swooping and gliding down. Their deep, almost eye-searing blue bodies tumble and soar through the golden-brown sky with sheer joy and the abbess squeezes my hands in hers.
“See that pleasure, that absolute delight?” Her eyes still on the birds, she lets out a sigh. “Take some of that with you, my child.”
I meet her eyes—her soft gaze radiates that deep tranquility I know so well.
“Yes, we are always in the in-between, suffering under the impermanence and change, with no certainty to be found.” She takes my face in her hands, the frayed edges of her sleeves brush against my jaws. “But why not replace the fear of loss of the old with the joyous delight in the new, in the new life you’ve been granted?”
My heart cracks open as my eyes meet hers, a sparkle of the purest love.
“Accept the death of the old, let it go, and rejoice in the new, the opportunity to change your state of mind to another possibility. Grow yourself, from moment-to-moment.” She pinches my cheeks and chuckles. “And transform to adventure, for the desire to free others from suffering in this samsaric world…” She pauses as her hands slide down and grip my elbows. “Well, that requires a vivacious state of mind.”
As her jubilant words pour straight into my heart, I freeze, and all is suspended—this place, my body, my mind. I’m halted in the in-between.
Swish. The next moment, a blue breath of feathers surges around the two of us. I blink. The diving birds rise with a last twist, and fade into the darkened mountain range. And I’m right back at the enclosure, my heart brimming with joy, my head bowed in reverence to the abbess.
Adventure. Delight. The abbess’s words keep swirling in my mind—but there’s not time to ponder. With the tails of our coats flying behind us, Lanying and I boot down the path as fast as the loose gravel allows us to. Halfway through, I stop to catch my breath. My hands on my knees, I take a last look at the hermitage, a flake of pristine white glistering on the edge of the teal shaded ridge.
Adventure. Delight. A quiver of pleasure brings gooseflesh to my skin.
“Come on.” Lanying hooks her arm in mine again, pulling me on. “Almost there.”
And we are. With no time and no breath left, we storm around the corner to the gate of the monastery.
“Well, well, look what just came down the mountain.” The harshness of Dendup’s voice stops us in our tracks. I hadn’t seen him at all, but he’s hiding in plain sight, leaning against the stacked stone wall across from the monastery.
Lanying pinches my arm. “See you soon for some real adventure, sister.” She flashes that cheeky smile of hers at Dendup, and off she is. Her heels spin in the dust, leaving me behind with my snarly looking family member.
“Sooo.” Steadying himself with his hands behind his back, Dendup raises himself from the wall. “Caught up with your new friend then, eh?” With a slight sway, he leans forward. “Karma sent me to fetch you.” One hand against the wall, he lugs on the belt of his open chuba, his shirt crumpled and loose underneath.
I take a step closer. Is he…?
His eyes puffy, he snorts. “He won’t be too happy to hear that.” His putrid breath, a mix of chang and vomit hits my nostrils.
Drunk. Dendup’s been drinking again, and it isn’t sitting well with him.
“Just like he won’t be too happy to see you like that.” My words snap out before I know it. I raise my chin but cringe inside for disrespecting my elder like this. Still, he shouldn’t be out here in this state. Our eyes cross, but I keep my stance. A sloppy smirk appears on his face.
“I won’t tell if you won’t.” His voice turns almost apologetic, but his eyes gleam a playful cheer. I answer his smile with a curt nod. He knows I won’t tell on him—I never would.
“Come on then.” I take his horse by the reins. “Let’s get ourselves home, unseen and unheard.”
I haul myself in the front of the saddle. It takes Dendup a little more effort to mount, and I’m happy to notice nobody around.
“Just give him free rein,” Dendup says, as I spur on the horse. “He knows his way.” He slouches against my back. A slur follows. “We’ll be just fine.”
And we are, for we arrive at the inn with no Karma in sight yet, but with a matron in the courtyard, more than willing to put Dendup to bed.