Thunder had never seen rain. Mama and Daddy had told them about it, but all he could do was imagine. It was hard to do. He simply couldn’t understand how water could come from the sky. It belonged on the ground, like the pool in the deep part of the arroyo, about a mile or so from where he was born.
The farther southwest he and Agile’eka moved, the harder it was to find any water. With no rain and the hot desert sun, even the barrel cactus were beginning to shrivel. Instead of seeking the safety of the high ground, the two roadrunners stayed to the arroyos and dry washes. For three days they went without a drink. The grasshoppers provided enough moisture—but just barely.
The evening of the fourth day, they came to a place where the arroyo widened. The steep, rock-cluttered walls fell back, making a wide, flat area. Gnarled and twisted, cottonwood trees speckled a path down the center where a stream had once run. Over a mile away, the steep walls of the canyon seemed to close. There were tall, green plants growing in the streambed. Their leaves long and pointed like the yucca, they grew thick and close together. But as he stood watching the valley, he noticed something else.
The floor of the wide arroyo seemed alive. There was movement as far as his eye could see, as if the ground were wriggling and crawling. His head crest rose. Lips behind his beak curled to a smile. “Tarantulas,” he whispered.
Thunder’s mother had told him that sometimes there were hundreds upon hundreds of tarantulas born from one hatch. Although these tarantulas were two to three weeks old, and no longer babies, the hatch must have been plentiful. They seemed to be everywhere.
Agile’eka was a little nervous at first. The tarantulas would rock back on their hind legs, raising their front pair as if to fight. Their jawlike chelicera and fangs snapped dangerously. “They’re just trying to scare you,” Thunder assured her.
“But what if they bite me?”
“They can’t hurt you. Even the grown ones can’t bite through our beak or feathers.” Quick as a wink he grabbed one and swallowed. “See?”
“I don’t know.”
He grabbed another, tossed it, and snatched it out of the air while it was still spinning. “If you’re still scared, stab them with your beak first. Then eat them.”
They filled their tummies. Even when night fell, a few tarantulas strolled by where they rested on the high ground. With all this juicy food about, the roadrunners didn’t even think about water.
All roadrunners must find their own place in the world. Their own territory. Maybe this is our territory. Mine and Agile’eka’s, Thunder thought. The valley is wide and long. There’s more than enough food for a whole family of roadrunners. There might even be some water at the far end, where all the trees are so thick. Tomorrow I’ll find out.
That evening, they talked. She liked the valley, too. They were both too young to start a family. Now was the time to explore and learn and see the world. “But,” she said, smiling, “maybe in a year or so we could meet here. Who knows?”
When morning came and they set out to see if there was water at the far end of the valley, they found more than they counted on. Thunder moved down one side of the valley and Agile’eka made her way down the other. There was no rush. Always watchful, but at a leisurely pace, they ate as they went toward the place where the valley narrowed.
Thunder smelled water long before he saw it. The sand was flat and smooth. Tall blades of grass sprang up, so thick he couldn’t see through them. The leaves were shaped like the yucca, but not hard and stiff. These leaves were so tender and limber they swayed with the gentle breeze. Strange flowers grew at the end of long stalks. They were brown and round like a stick of wood, but kind of fuzzy looking.
As the smell of water became stronger, the brush and grass and trees grew so thick he couldn’t see the other side. He wondered if Agile’eka was there. The last time he’d seen her, she was on the opposite side and a ways behind him.
The strange place made him nervous. His keen eyes couldn’t see through the thick foliage. Cautious and uneasy, he slowed his pace. Paused between each step to listen. Look. Smell. Feeling crowded and trapped—almost as he had in the plum thicket—he moved away from the tall grass and climbed toward the place where the walls of the cliff started crowding in on the valley. He found an open spot where he could see. He sat beside a big rock and watched.
To his right, there was water. More than he had ever seen before. For an instant he thought it might be the Great Water where the sun slept at night. Then he saw the other side. It wasn’t the Great Water. It was a lake. The tall grass grew out a ways—the base of the stems standing in the water. When it became too deep, the stalks stopped and there was nothing but blue. So much blue that he figured it would take over a hundred running steps just to reach the far side of it. In the distance, where the canyon narrowed, giant boulders had fallen from the cliffs. Sand had washed and filtered in to fill the cracks and form a dam. It was amazing! The only water he’d seen before stood in small puddles or depressions in solid rock or . . .
Suddenly a movement caught his eye. A roadrunner. At the far side of the lake, she ran, stopped, then ran a ways farther. “Thunder?” she cooed. “Thunder? Where are you?”
He stood, ruffled his feathers, and cooed back, “Over here, Agile’eka. Way up here by this rock.”
Then he saw the others who ran behind her. There were three more roadrunners. They were young—about his age. Two boy roadrunners and another girl.
“I met some new friends,” Agile’eka clattered. “Come let me introduce you.”
He sprang to his feet and sprinted around the lake toward them. He was so excited about meeting new friends he didn’t give one thought to his feet. Until . . .
One of the boy roadrunners stopped. He tilted his head one way, then the other. “What’s that weird noise?” He looked up at the sky. “There must be a storm coming.”
When Thunder was almost to them, the girl roadrunner’s eyes popped wide. She spread her wings and stumbled backward. The other boy veered off to the side and almost fell in the lake.
Then all three—their voices startled and astonished—gasped at the exact same instant, “OH! MY! GOSH!!!”