The Cleansing

 The graveled, fifty-foot clearing was littered with twigs and needles. The man knelt and carefully raked a handful of the debris into a small heap in the center of the clearing. Fire danger was high, and he wouldn’t be responsible for destroying this sacred beauty by letting his fire get out of hand. He carefully added a few crumpled pages that he had torn from several books that were lying nearby. He struck a match and touched it to the paper. He watched as the flame caught and licked at the dry tinder. As the fire grew stronger, he continued slowly adding pages, finally settling the ruined volumes on the pyre. He pulled several amulets and fetishes from his pockets and threw them into the coals.

He tended the flame carefully for a few minutes, until most of the fuel was consumed. He stood up, strode to the creek and filled the drink cup he had found in his car. He returned to the fire and poured water over the flames. After three trips to the creek, he was satisfied that the coals were out. He moved to the still form lying on one of the Forest Service benches positioned around the clearing. He gazed at the bloated face with its bulging eyes and swollen, purple tongue. He broke off several fronds of the ferns growing thickly on the forest floor and covered her face. He prayed briefly to his God, commending her soul to His judgment.

Satisfied that he had finished what he came to do, he followed the path back to the trailhead. He slid behind the driver’s seat, carefully fastened his seat belt and started the engine. He turned on the CD player and let the music pour over him, clearing his head. He pulled onto the road and headed down the mountain. In less than an hour, he was home.