The Lab’s head shoved against her leg. Selena hadn’t heard her move. She grabbed for the dog’s collar. Copper leaned forward, not growling yet, but intent.
“Let’s just go back inside,” she said, in the too-calm voice you used when something was going horribly wrong. She hauled back on Copper’s collar. Copper did not wish to be moved. She made a low, breathyhwuff, her claws scraping on the tiles as Selena put some muscle into it, and then the roadrunner was up on the porch and Selena slammed the door in its face.
“Right,” she said, letting Copper go. “That was certainly ... a bird. Yes.” She tried to laugh at herself for being so silly as to be frightened of a bird. Then she thought about how she’d feel about a snake or a lizard that came up to her knee, and didn’t feel quite so silly.
She shut Copper in the bedroom and went back to the front door, cracking it open to look through the gap.
The roadrunner was still there. It looked up and turned its head slightly to look at her. Its eyes seemed to be set farther forward than a chicken’s. Selena had read somewhere that predators had their eyes in front. There was a white ring around its pupils, which should have made it look cartoonish and didn’t.
They watched each other for a long moment. She could see the mottled brown-and-white feathers, and a pulsing at its throat.
Even knowing how fast it could move, its lunge startled her. The sharp beak was suddenlyright there, driving into the crack in the door. Selena yelped and slammed the door involuntarily, feeling a moment of resistance—oh Jesus let me not have caught its beak—then it was gone and she worked the bolt with fumbling fingers, flimsy little metal hook and eye that it was, but surely that would be enough, it was only a bird, only a stupid lizard-dinosaur-bird that killed rattlesnakes and was trying to get into her house.
She leaned against the door. Something scraped against it, several times. What waswrongwith the miserable thing? Selena had never seen the old movieThe Birds, only knew about it from the cultural gestalt, but she’d never heard that there were roadrunners in it.
She backed away, let Copper out of the bedroom, turned on the radio, and moved the chair so that she could watch the door.
Surely it won’t juststaythere. There’s noreasonfor it to stay there.Of course, there was no reason that a wild bird would be trying to get into the house either.
She dug her fingers into the loose skin on the back of Copper’s neck. The dog leaned into it, growing heavier and heavier, until she finally slid down to the floor with a grunt.
“It’s Tuesday,” the radio said, “and that means it’s time for community announcements on KQDZ, the Voice of the Desert. If you’ve got something to say, give me a call. Meanwhile ... let’s see ... Fire Marshal Jenny reminds everyone that our fire risk is extremely high, and if you burn down the desert, everyone’s going to be pissed. Watch where you throw those cigarette butts, people. And Father Aguirre reminds everyone that there is a potluck on Wednesday and Saturday evening at Our Lady of the Palo Verdes in Quartz Creek. It’s free and open to people of all faiths or lack thereof. If you can’t bring a meal, that’s fine, just bring yourself.”
Despite the tension of the roadrunner outside, Selena smiled to herself at the mention of the potlucks.
“Right. Let’s see if there’s anything in the want ads that you all should know. Hmm ... Larry out at the Masonville General Store has a litter of beagle puppies for sale. I’m sure they’re adorable, but don’t forget they grow up into beagles. Fifty dollars or best offer. And—oh hot damn, we’ve got a caller! What’s your name, caller?”
“Galadriel,” said a firm female voice.
Galadriel? Really?
The DJ did not seem surprised by this, but maybe if you called yourself Raven, you were more open-minded about other people’s peculiar names. “Sure, out at Rivendell. What’s up, Galadriel?”
“Damned if I know,” Galadriel said, sounding somewhat annoyed. “Some kind of weird energy brewing to the northeast.Something’sgoing down over there.”
“Weird energy, huh? Anything more specific you can tell our listeners?”
“I can tell ’em I don’t like it. It’s all angry and jittery and ... look, it’sweird. That’s all I know.”
Selena started to roll her eyes at the concept of “weird energy,” then remembered that she’d seen a god in her garden. Something, anyway. She still wasn’t quite sure if she believed in gods, but there had beensomethingthere.
“Northeast,” DJ Raven said musingly. “Does seem like something’s going on, doesn’t it? Some spirit’s in a mood.”
“Feels like more spirits are out and about these days in general,” Galadriel grumbled.
“Stands to reason,” said DJ Raven, as if they were still talking about the weather. “The more human-people go off to the cities and the arcologies and right off the world altogether, with that moon colony up there, the more space there is for the spirits to stretch out. Spirits always do like a good bit of elbow room.”
“God knows the historic zones are bleeding people,” Galadriel added. “Which reminds me, if anybody knows which end of a sheep is which, I’m down a hand this year.”
“Yeah, your youngest is off to college, isn’t he?”
“And-we’re-all-very-proud-of-him,” Galadriel said. Selena could recognize a well-worn script, even in somebody else’s mouth.
“You heard it here, listeners,” DJ Raven said. “Rivendell needs your sheep expertise. And keep an eye out for anything weird, particularly to the northeast.”
“Do roadrunners count?” Selena asked the radio.
“Thanks, Galadriel. Now let’s see, we’ve got an ad here for a high-end fishing rod, gently used ...”
