Well, wasn't that the question of the year! Before I could answer, the creature, I'd guess at least eight feet tall, shook his pearly mane and scolded, "It's much too late for you to be out."
He seemed to know me and I had a feeling I knew this shaggy, but well-groomed creature that towered over me, extending a paw-like hand towards me. His fur was satiny-white and he had liquid brown eyes beneath puckered eyebrows in a rather stern, human-like face. It was not an unkind face, just not too friendly. Yugo, snuggled in my arms, wasn't the least bit afraid of him, either, not that I could sense. But Yugo also didn't give out any information on this guy, which left me wondering if I should shake his hand or what.
I'd trust my instincts. I clasped his hand and replied, "Please call me Dusty."
"Humph," he squeezed my hand and let go, "'Dusty' is not a proper name, Elizabeth Conner."
Now I knew why he felt so familiar, he reminded me of my Dad.
"Come along," he took a key from a big ring and unlocked the gate, a soft clicking echoing throughout the deserted streets. "You may call me Mr. dIAmand." He swung the gate open and as I took a step, he stopped me with an upraised hand. "You must," he pointed to Yugo, "leave the misbegotten outside the city walls. It must return to the desert."
"No!" I shot back, without a moment's hesitation, heartened by my voice ringing in the still night air. "Yugo and I stay together. I must get some food for him. He's starving." I stroked Yugo and he purred. "Maybe you can help find his parents." I smiled at the man-thing, seeing a resemblance between him and Yugo. Yugo would probably grow up to look a lot like Mr. dIAmand.
"It is not possible," he rejoined, stepping over the threshold into the city. "Misbegottens are not allowed here in the Perpetual City."
"But he's one of your kind!" I shrieked. "You can't leave Yugo to die out in the desert! You can't!" No one could be that cruel.
Yugo burrowed deeper into my arms. We both felt terrified that we'd be left outside to die.
The keys jingled and I realized Mr. dIAmand's hand trembled as he spoke. "It isn't done. The misbegottens do not come back. You must understand, there is no place for them." He met my eyes, and I thought I saw sadness in them. "You mustn't interfere with the way things are here, Elizabeth Conner."
I took three steps over to him, facing him so that he could not avoid looking me in the eyes while I spoke. "Is that the way things are done here? Murder of the innocents?"
"No!" he boomed. "These misbegottens are not innocent! They accept that they must not be." Then with a careful gesture, he touched my shoulder with his shaggy hand. "Do not take it upon yourself to change things. You cannot make what is acceptable seem wrong. This cannot be tolerated!"
I sounded a lot braver than I felt, but I had too much to lose to give in to him, even if my own life depended on his help. "It's murder, Mr. dIAmand, and you'll be a murderer."
"I am only responsible for you!" He thundered, cutting great arcs with his hand-paw. "I can do nothing for the misbegotten. Now come along!"
"Who says?" I challenged.
"Who says?" hooted Mr. dIAmand, clearly puzzled.
"Who makes all these rules and says you're only responsible for me and not for Yugo?"
I had obviously asked the right question by the smug look on Mr. D's face and the sound of his voice. "Why, the Perfect Council decided these matters long before you or I were born, Elizabeth Conner."
"Well then, Mr. D, we'll challenge the Perfect Council. You'll be only responsible for me, as I assume full responsibility for Yugo." I had a vague notion that Mr. D was in a bind; he must have been assigned to take care of me and I meant to use that to my advantage. "I won't go with you if you won't ask the Perfect Council to consider my case for Yugo."
All the while Yugo mewed I stroked him, offering him all the comfort I could muster. I banked on Mr. D's sense of 'responsibility' as being about as rigid as he was.
"Excellent idea Elizabeth Conner! We shall do that. Now, please come along." He stood aside for me to walk by and I kept Yugo tucked out of reach, for I wasn't real sure Mr. D wouldn't snatch Yugo and throw him away.
"Elizabeth Conner," Mr. dIAmand brought his hand gently upon my shoulder, "you mustn't call me any name other than my rightful one. It isn't proper."
Yugo still needed food and I had pushed Mr. D about as far as I thought I could, but I was stuck on a principle. "In a way, I understand that. You call me Dusty and I'll call you Mr. dIAmand." I stretched as tall as I could make myself and looked Mr. D in the eye.
"But, childling, I must call you by your rightful name. Surely, you can understand that?" He asked so sincerely, so clearly baffled, that I had to reply with the very truth of the matter.
"It offends me." I didn't want to go into all the whys and wherefores, so I added, "For reasons of my own."
He studied me, which gave me a chance to look him over, too. He really was quite beautiful, with long, shiny hair that begged to be brushed and stroked. He had a nice face, but one that I doubt I could remember or describe, other than it was nice. I guess that's why he reminded me of my Dad, only Mr. D had a lot more hair.
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