Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy January 1955. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.
THE HAND
by
Jerry Sohl
Alice knew that Dobie was a good dog, even if he did have analarming habit of hunting down rabbits and gophers. But oneday he brought her—
lice McNearby was washing breakfast dishes and looking out thekitchen window at the November sky when she first spied Dobie. The wayhe was sneaking up to the house she knew he had killed something.
She dried her hands on her apron and tried to put down the suspicionthat gnawed at the edge of her mind as she went to the door. Duringthe past month Dobie had killed a cat, a pheasant, two rabbits and afield mouse and it seemed it would be only a question of time until hegot one of the chickens or even one of the suckling pigs. That wouldbe all Mac would need to throw one of his wild spells and he'dprobably take a gun to Dobie as he had threatened to do. To make itworse, Dobie seemed to know how Mac felt and often growled at him. Macdidn't growl back but the look in her husband's eyes was enough toconvince her Dobie's continued existence was in doubt.
It was a wonder to Alice that Mac hadn't done away with him already,judging from the comfort she derived from the dog. Dobie neverfretted, never whined and seemed so appreciative of everything she didfor him. She had scolded him for his killing but found herself unableto put her heart in it because he seemed to love it so. Instead, shealways managed to clear any bones away before Mac returned from townor came up from the barn and she was thankful he seemed as yet unawareof the brown dog's hunting nature.
Now it appeared she'd have to cover up for the dog once again and sheopened the door. Dobie was under a bush half way across the barn yard,his kill still in his mouth. He was circling around, and she knewhe'd soon be on his stomach enjoying his feast.
"Dobie!" she called in a low voice, hoping it would not carry to thebarn.
Dobie's ears came up. He looked her way.
"Dobie!... Come here, Dobie!"
The dog was undecided, looking at her, unmoving for a moment. Then histail started flicking, he lowered his head and came up to her.
Then she saw what he had in his mouth and her blood stopped and only agreat effort on the part of her heart started it going again.
It was a human hand, blood still oozing from the severed wrist.
"Dobie!"
The way she said it, the way she looked—something made the dog dropthe hand. It fell to the ground, limp, palm down.
Dobie, head hung, tail down, ventured forward, nuzzled her hand. ButAlice could not tear her eyes from the thing on the cold ground. Shehad cared for Dobie like a baby ever since someone dropped him offout in the country and she had adopted the name Dobie because apassing child had called him that and it seemed like a good name ...and she loved him.
But this, this hand. That was too much.
She looked around, saw