Frommydesertplateau,Icouldseeourhouse,justbeyondthecitylimits,atthe
base of the Cerbat Mountains, amid red-rock desert speckled with mesquite,
tumbleweeds, and paddle-shaped cacti. Out here, dust devils swirled up from
nothing,blurringyourvision,thendisappeared.Spacesstretchedon,thenfellaway
into the distance. Our two dogs, Max and Nip, never grew tired of the freedom.
Everyday,they’dventureforthandbringhomesomenewdeserttreasure:thelegof
adeer,unfinishedbitsofjackrabbittoeatlater,thesun-bleachedskullofahorse,the
jawboneofacoyote.
My friends and I loved the freedom, too, and we spent our afternoons
exploring,walking,scavengingforbonesandraredesertcreeks.Havingspentmy
previousyearsinalightlyforestedsuburbintheNortheast,withatree-linedmain
street anda candy store, Ifound the wild, windy desert alien andalluring.On my
firsttrekalone,asaten-year-old,Idiscoveredanoldirrigationgrate.Iprieditopen
withmyfingers,lifteditup,andthere,afewinchesfrommyface,werethreewhite
silkenwebs,andineach,marchingalongonspindledlegs,wasaglisteningblack
bulbous body, bearing in its shine the dreaded blood-red hourglass. Near to each
spider a pale, pulsating sac breathed with the imminent birth of countless more
blackwidows.Horrorletthegratecrashshut.Istumbledback.Thehorrorcameina
mix of “country facts” (Nothing is more deadly than the bite of the black widow
spider) and the inhuman posture and the black shine and the red hourglass. I had
nightmaresforyears.
Thedesertofferedapantheonofterrors:tarantulas,wolfspiders,fiddlebacks,
bark scorpions, whip scorpions, centipedes, diamondbacks, sidewinders, Mojave
greens. Eventually we grew familiar, even comfortable, with these creatures. For
fun,whenmyfriendsandIdiscoveredawolfspider ’snest,we’ddropanantontoits
outer limits and watch as its entangled escape attempts sent quivers down the silk
strands,intothespider ’sdarkcentralhole,anticipatingthatfatalmomentwhenthe
spider would burst from its hollows and seize the doomed ant in its mandibles.
“Countryfacts”becamemytermfortheruralcousinoftheurbanlegend.AsIfirst
learnedthem, country facts grantedfairy powersto desert creatures, making,say,
theGilamonsternolessanactualmonsterthantheGorgon.Onlyafterlivingoutin
thedesertforawhiledidwerealizethatsomecountryfacts,liketheexistenceofthe
jackalope,hadbeendeliberatelycreatedtoconfusecityfolkandamusethelocals.I
oncespentanhourconvincingagroupofexchangestudentsfromBerlinthat,yes,
therewas a particular species of coyote that lived inside cacti and could leap ten
yards to attack its prey (like, well, unsuspecting Germans). Yet no one precisely
knewwherethetruthlayamidthewhirlingsand;foreverycountryfactthatseemed
preposterous, there was one that felt solid and true. Always check your shoes for
scorpions,forexample,seemedplaingoodsense.
When I was sixteen, I was supposed to drive my younger brother, Jeevan, to