They say that on a summer afternoon, the desert can kill you.
It was a killing kind of day. The July sun was a tyrant torturing any of its subjects who dared venture from their air-conditioned hide-aways, turning them into squinting, squirming, shuffling creatures whose feet burned with every step on the asphalt and whose fingers blistered each time they made contact with a metal object. All in all, not a fit day for man nor beast to be outside.
But Harry Matlock was outside and in a car without air-conditioning. He and his wife Janice were driving from Tucson to Phoenix in their old Buick. Harry was driving, or at least he was behind the wheel, but Janice was giving enough advice at every curve and dip in the highway to at least qualify as an assistant.
"Watch out! Be careful! Slow down!"
The mid-day sun had given Harry a headache, and every syllable from his wife made it worse. In the first place, he didn't want to be here. He wanted to be home watching the baseball game with cool air blowing on him and a cooler beer in his hand. But Janice had to see her mother, which meant a trip to Phoenix. Either that or a trip to hell with her nagging.
Baseball and the news were Harry's passions and his escapes from Janice. It was so sweet to block her out with the six o'clock news and the ten o'clock news and every other newscast he could squeeze into their schedule. Harry figured he must know more about what was going on in the world than the President, Vice President and half the members of Congress combined.
"Harry, did you see that?”
“Harry, I'm talking to you! Did you see what we just passed back there? It was a dog. He was all by himself beside the highway. He must have been abandon, poor thing." Janice barely paused to breathe. "It was one of those German ones - Dobermans aren't they?"
Harry tried to blot out his wife's incessant chatter by concentrating on a familiar landmark, Picacho Peak, which loomed just ahead on the left. The finger of rock pointing into the sky, the site of Arizona's only Civil War battle, meant they were almost half way to Phoenix. I might get to see the end of the game after all, he thought. I might even get lucky enough to have her and her mother go out shopping.
It was no use. Janice broke through the mental barrier with ease.
"Harry! Didn't you hear me? Turn around! That dog might be valuable."
Knowing there was no sense in fighting it, Harry slowed the car and looked for a place to cross over to the eastbound lanes. Finally he spotted one of the sandy paths reserved for the Highway Patrol. As he swung on to it, he imagined his illegal turn being spotted by the cops. Maybe they'll come after me, he thought, and shoot her by mistake. A slight smile crossed his lips.
During the five miles or so in which they backtracked towards the place she had seen the dog, Janice continued to criticize. "Honestly, Harry, why didn't you turn sooner? That dog will probably be gone before we get there. And the reward too. I swear. If I didn't do your thinking for you, you'd be totally worthless.”
There he is!" Janice exclaimed, pointing at a dark object just ahead on the center divider. “I can't believe he is still here. It looks like he hasn't even moved."
Harry slowed the Buick and edged out onto the sandy median close to the dog, which turned his head to look at them, but otherwise didn't move. It was a Doberman all right. And a big one.
As Harry observed the sleek black and tan animal sitting there patiently, a warning bell went off in his head. There was something from a recent news program, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
"Quick Harry!" Janice shrilled. "Get him in the car before someone else comes. But be careful," she added. "He looks dangerous."
Not really dangerous, Harry thought. He just looks like he could be dangerous if he wanted to. Still, getting it into the car might prove to be difficult. It wasn't. All Harry did was gingerly get out and open the rear door. Immediately the dog stood up, trotted over and climbed in.
“For Pete's sake, you've got him!" said Janice. "Get back in and let's go to mother! She'll know what to do. And hurry, it's hot out here!"
Once more he guided the Buick across the desert divider and headed west towards Casa Grande and then north to Phoenix. Occasionally he glanced in the rear view mirror at the silent passenger who sat motionless yet alert, as if on some eternal vigil. His eyes filled with admiration for the handsome Doberman who seemed so strong and confident, able to handle every challenge. Still, there was something about it that clawed at Harry's subconscious. If only he could remember.
Janice, on the other hand, wasn't sharing her husband's admiration for her prize discovery. She kept squirming in her seat, as she glanced nervously over her shoulder at the pointed snout just behind her.
"Harry," she said, twisting her fingers as if tying a knot in some invisible string. "He looks so dangerous. Can't you drive a little faster?"
More primed than dangerous, the driver thought. Still, he pushed the accelerator a little closer to the floor. The Cholla and Ocotillo sped by a little faster. The sun remained a relentless oppressor. Only a couple of miles more and the road would swing north marking the last fifty miles of their trip. Janice remained unsatisfied.
"Harry!" The tone of her voice was somewhere between a pout and a plead. "That dog just sits there and stares. He makes me nervous. Perhaps we made a mistake. I think we should stop and let him out."
Fat chance, Harry thought. This was your idea and now you're stuck with it.
As if to punctuate his silent refusal, he reached out and turned on the radio, moving the dial in search of his beloved news. Soon a familiar voice drowned out his wife's protest.
The high today was 111 - no record for this date, but close.
We can expect more of the same tomorrow. Tucson should
top out at about 105 and Phoenix near 112. Now Ted, what
do you have for the lighter side of the news?
This isn't exactly the lighter side Greg, but there is an oddity
about it. If you remember, last month there was a protest
demonstration out near Marana. It seems some man
was training killer dogs. Word leaked out and the
S.P.C.A., along with a few others, picketed the place.
I remember. We interviewed a couple of protesters and the
owner. They almost came to blows. And wasn't
there something weird about the training or about a few of
the dogs - something like that?
Harry's mind was working fast, the lost idea trying to get out. Janice, quiet for a change, was concentrating on the radio. She had a strange look on her face. The Doberman just sat there ignoring it all.
Anyway, here's the serious part. One of the dogs has
escaped.
Janice made a choking noise and reached out clutching for Harry's arm. She found it. Her nails bit into her husband's biceps making him wince. He swerved the car slightly. As he brought the Buick back under control, Harry glanced sideways and saw that his wife's eyes were wide with terror. Despite his own fear, he felt better than he had for months.
It is believed to still be somewhere in the Marana area, and
the police are concentrating their search there.
Meanwhile the owner has asked all news media to
broadcast a warning. The animal is extremely dangerous,
because the words that trigger his attack are common ones
and could easily be given accidentally.
The dog is a large Doberman with a small patch of white at
its throat. If any of you see such a dog, or indeed any
Doberman, without an owner, DON'T GO NEAR IT! I repeat.
DON'T GO NEAR IT!
That's it, Harry thought. It was the description that did it. He knew now what he had been trying to remember since he first saw the dog.
Janice's nails were digging deeper. She kept motioning with her head towards the back seat and making little gagging sounds.
Now this is very important. There are two words that set
the dog off. The first, which primes him, is READY.
Harry gripped the steering wheel tighter as he glanced in the mirror. The Doberman hadn't moved, but something about had changed. It was more an air of tension than anything else.
Janice was almost babbling now.
The second word, the one that makes him attack is ...........
Janice desperately clawed for the radio control. Harry slapped her hand away.
..... FETCH.
The dog moved.
There's more. This must be the twist you were talking
about - a real oddity. It seems this dog is something of a
chauvinist. He only attacks women.
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Harry found another patrol lane and swung the car around heading back towards Tucson. He thought that after he had finished explaining things to the police, he would have just enough time to make it home for the evening news.
