The Horse Master's Daughter by Elles Lohuis

Author:Elles Lohuis [Elles Lohuis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2022-05-07T00:00:00+00:00

twenty-nine

A luminous waxing moon reigns over the indigo sky. A thousand twinkling stars accompany her as she moves through the night to her fullest. It’s been a long day at the camp. The second round of milking was easier. Fortunately, I’m a decent cook. At least I’m of use here in the kitchen. Everybody’s fed. The yaks wander the hills and the stove murmurs a comforting heat for all who’ve gathered around. Shadows of men on the right take stock of their trade while sipping their tea. Women on the left spin the wool and chat away the day. Children scatter around, curling up wherever they feel like sleeping. It’s a large family. I’m still not sure who’s who.

Zinzin throws a few slabs of dung in the stove. No way she’s going to cook again?

“I’m making Father’s medicine,” she says. “He’s not been up today.” The baby’s in her arms, a worn pouch is in her hands—and the worried look’s back, lining her lovely face.

“Let me, please.” I take the pouch and crush some of the dried leaves in the palm of my hands. A crisp zest permeates the air as the crumbles soak the boiling water.

“It only needs a little.” Zinzin puts the baby on her breast. I nod, and a slight smile comes to my lips. Gently, my hands rock the pot back and forth. No stirring, only simmering. Let the plants do their work. That’s what Choezem, our amchi at the monastery, says when she hands us our medicine. The water stains a vibrant viridian as the leaves release their shades of potent healing. An acrimonious aroma whiffs up. It’s ready to be taken.

“I’ll bring it.” I strain the liquid in a cup, making sure the soaked leaves stay behind. I let the brew settle for a moment. My eyes spot the bottom of the cup. Yes, it’s all clear.

“He needs a little help with it.” Zinzin wipes the little one’s mouth with her sleeve. “His strength has left him.” Her hands tap the baby’s back. Defeat has settled on her shoulders.

“I’ll take care of him.” I move over to the right side. A heap of woolen blankets covers Father’s frail frame. A wheezy cough rattles in his chest.

My arms support his bony body as he slides up to take the cup. My hand wipes the veil of perspiration from his forehead. A pair of fevered eyes seek me as I put the cup to his parched lips. A few strained sips follow. Then a few more. The tremor in the man’s body seems to ease. The healing liquid does its work. A lightness moves in me, holding this fragile human so close. At least I’m able to ease some of his suffering, even if it’s only to help him drink.

I bend to rearrange his blankets, making sure he’s comfortable for the night. His hand raises at the jade beads around my neck. Of course, prayer to Sangye Menla, the Medicine Buddha. This will be of benefit to him—and to all who need the healing.

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