His father hadn't told him much about the clearing that night on his deathbed. Roger listened to every word, trying his best to absorb and retain everything the old man said. But he felt that his father had left certain things out, and Roger assumed that if his dad hadn't mentioned them, they really weren't that important anyway.
His dad did tell him that the clearing meant a great deal to the men who founded Union Township, the original settlement that eventually led to the creation of New Cambridge ten miles to the east. In those earliest days, the men gathered in the clearing, drawn there—Roger assumed—by the same force that drew him back again and again. All the most important decisions relating to the founding of the new community were discussed and made in that spot. What the laws would be. What the form of government would be. Who would live where and on what parcel of land.
Who would marry who.
Roger came back to the clearing to bury the girl because of that. His father had told him, during that deathbed revelation, that a man could feel a great deal of power if he gave himself over to the clearing. And, his father told him, if a man wants to find a wife, he should start looking in the clearing. If a man spent enough time there and opened himself up to the possibilities that flowed through that place, he could find himself with a suitable wife and an end to his loneliness.
"That's the way we determined those things back then," the old man said. "If a man couldn't find a wife, he came to the clearing, and one was found for him..."
Roger believed it.
He started going there before his father died, and shortly before the old man's death, Roger had found the girl and brought her to live with him. But he couldn't have done it—knew he couldn't have done it—without first receiving the power that came from that place.
Roger pushed himself to his feet. He grabbed the shovel and looked for a suitable place to dig. The hardness in his pants continued, pushing against his jeans. Roger used his hand to adjust himself, hoping for some relief, even though he knew of only one real way to ease the pain and discomfort.
But he couldn't do that anymore. The girl was gone. She had died. And even before she died, she was sick, and he couldn't relieve his urges.
But in the clearing, he felt otherwise. Something told him otherwise.
And once he started thinking about it, Roger couldn't stop himself. He knew he was going to be alone for a long time, maybe forever. And hadn't his dad said that the clearing was the place where men drew their power, where men did what men had to do?
Roger bent down and untied the knot holding the sheet tight around the girl's body. Once he started untying the knot, he felt the desire rise within him. It felt like a swarm of bees buzzing in his skull, and he pulled and tugged harder against the knot, his thick fingers butchering the job, making the knot worse and more uncooperative.
"Ahhhh," he cried, his voice rising in the woods.
He continued his fight with the knots until they started to come free. Sweat covered his body now, and he felt like he had a fever. His forehead and the tips of his earlobes burned in the cool night air.
He pulled the sheet apart.
There she was. The girl. His girl.
She wore her nightgown, the one she had died in, and her hair looked greasy and tangled from the months of her sickness. Her skin was pale, the bones rising from beneath her flesh.
But Roger didn't care. She was cold already, but he didn't care.
He fumbled with his pants. When he opened them, some of the pressure eased. But not all of it, not nearly enough of it.
He lifted her nightgown and climbed on top of her. He went to work just as the clearing told him to do.
He knew relief was coming, felt it drawing closer with each rhythmic thrust.
He howled, his voice rising and cutting through the night.
When Roger was finished, he lay on his back next to the girl's body. He felt better. Relieved, he thought.
But as he lay there, looking at the stars that dotted the sky and the almost fully risen moon, he knew it was only temporary. He smelled the rich earth, the thick green vegetation and knew that he had to put the girl in the ground. But once she went in there, he would be alone.
Really alone.
No one else in his family had ever lived alone. His mother died first, but Dad had him for company. And right after Dad died, the girl came to live with him. But now he faced the future by himself, with no one to help him or guide him. No one to care for him.
He thought about bringing the girl back into the house with him, just for a little while, but he couldn't bring himself to do that. It would be wrong. Indecent. He couldn't do anything like that in his parents' house.
So he continued to stare at the sky and tried to open himself up to the power of the clearing.
And the answer came to him in just a few minutes:
Why not find a new wife?
As soon as he thought it, Roger knew he had found the solution to all of his problems. He could find a new wife, someone to come and take the girl's place, and then he wouldn't have to be alone in the house. He wouldn't have to be alone at all.