by Ralph Church
“Sore throat.”
Dr. Litney could take no more.
“That’s it,” he said, standing up. He picked up his briefcase and began to jam his tests in. “I’ve had enough. You’re in a lot of trouble, Mr. Ricardo. I’m going to recommend that we have the sanity hearing. This kind of persistent anti-social behavior indicates to me that it might be dangerous to have you out there. I’m not sure at what point you cross that line between being aggressively verbal and just being plain physically aggressive.”
And with that incomprehensible speech, from Mork’s point of view, Dr. Litney left. The poor man was so distracted and angry that he forgot to tell the sheriff that he had found out who and where Mork came from. He merely said, “I’m recommending we have the hearing. You’d better find him a lawyer.”
The poor kid, the sheriff thought. He picked up the phone and spoke with the District Attorney’s office.
***
14
A few hours later, while Mork was being served his dinner, which he ate like a normal human, the D.A.’s office phoned back to say that the hearing would be held in two days and that a lawyer from the public defenders office had been assigned to Mork.
Shortly after that, Tilwick came in with Mindy. “Uh, Chief,” he said, “this is Mindy McConnell.”
The sheriff and Mindy exchanged greetings.
“I arrested that young man at her apartment. Now, he is apparently well known to her, and she claims that he is merely kidding.”
The sheriff looked Mindy over carefully. She seemed too respectable to be up to anything. “Well, he kidded the psychiatrist so well that he told me to arrange the sanity hearing.”
Tilwick had been afraid of that. Well, he’d have to keep Mindy calm and get her home quietly.
“When is the hearing?” Mindy asked.
“Friday morning,” the sheriff answered.
“Let me talk with him. If I can talk with him, I assure you he’ll prove to you who he is.”
The sheriff eyed Mindy closely. He spoke softly to her. “Maybe you’d better tell me what this is all about, young woman. You’ll feel better talking it out.”
“It’s nothing,” Mindy insisted, and she pulled her arm away. from Tilwick, who was urging her out. “It’s just that Mork gets silly around authority and he starts kidding around, and he doesn’t know when to stop.” The two men didn’t say anything.
“Just give me ten minutes with him. Please,” she said, her eyes pleading.
“I can’t see any harm in that,” the sheriff said “especially if you can clear up his identity.”
“Thank you,” Mindy said, turning to go.
“And,” the sheriff called after her, “you’d better tell him that if he’s kidding, that he just might joke himself into a straitjacket.”
“I will,” Mindy promised. She went out, Tilwick escorting her to the cell. He left her there alone, as she asked. Mork was so glad to see her—Orkans easily become lonely—that his bloink almost hummed.
“Mork, what happened with the doctor?”
“Shazbot!” Mork said. “I have been considering that for many hours. I made up a good story, I thought.”
“You told him you were from New York?”
“I told him I was born in Cuba and had moved to New York. I was clever. I remembered that program about the stranger who marries the redhead. So I used their name.”
“Oh,” Mindy groaned and leaned her head against the bars. “You told him you were Ricky Ricardo?”
“Nox, nox,” Mork said, using the most emphatic of the legal Orkian no’s. Some of the illegal no’s are so emphatic that just saying them creates quite a breeze. “I was not that clonish. I told him I was Mork Ricardo.”
“Mork, don’t you understand why that would make him think you were crazy?”
“But, Mindy-Earthling, that is not what made him Ka-bloink. He was nice to me about that. He told me that if I did well on the tests and could provide identification, saying I am Mork Ricardo, all would be well.”
“Really?” Mindy said. “He believed that you were Mork Ricardo?”
“Yes,” Mork said. “It was when I put the square block into the circular hole that he became upset.”
Mindy rubbed her forehead in despair. Why hadn’t the sheriff mentioned that Mork had said who he was?
“Mindy!” It was Tilwick, calling from the doorway. Mindy went over to him. ”The shrink just called. He said he forgot to say that Mork had told him who he is.”
Mindy nodded warily. Weren’t they going to notice?
“Did you know he was married?” Tilwick asked. “He even has a kid.”
Mindy went on nodding uncertainly. “He gave his name?” she asked.
“Sure,” Tilwick said. “Ricardo. And he has a wife named Lucille. He’s a Cuban. But he’s got American citizenship. You knew all that?”
Mindy smiled and nodded. “Yep,” she said quietly, trying not to laugh.
“He says he has friends, a Mr. and Mrs. Mertz, who can bring his identification here.”
Mindy bit her lip before speaking. “Yeah, we were discussing that now. I think he can get hold of his passport. I was trying to find out what he did that got the psychiatrist upset.”
“Okay,” Tilwick said. “I guess I should have believed you. You know Latins—they like to kid around. Funny thing is, he doesn’t look Spanish.”
Ignoring that comment, Mindy said, “Let me go back and find out how to get in touch with his friends.”
“Okay,” Tilwick said. Mindy walked back to Mark’s cell. She opened her purse and took out her passport. It had never been used; indeed, Mindy had never been out of the United States. But having a passport made her feel as if she had traveled all over. “Mork,” she said, “this is a piece of identification. Can you change my name and this writing, and also the photograph?”
Mork looked at the small blue booklet. “Certainly. What would you wish me to change it to?”
“Well,” Mindy said, pointing to the top line, “put down Mork Ricardo here.” Mork pointed his bloink and there was a brief hum and Mindy’s name disappeared. He pointed again and there was a funny noise.
“Excuse me,” Mork said. He tapped his finger twice. “Ink gets sluggish,” he explained and pointed again. There was a glow of light. Mork showed her the booklet.
Mork Ricardo was neatly printed. Mindy had him write in his sex, and they made up a date of birth, wrote in his wife’s name, and also little Morky’s. When they came to the photograph, Mork had some trouble. Photographs on Ork are quite different from what they are on Earth. They are almost completely black, a difference having to do with the Orkian eye, which becomes more clear-sighted the darker it gets. So the first two photographs Mork created of himself looked like pictures of dark closets with a dim figure in the middle. Mindy had quite a bit of trouble convincing Mork that on Earth those pictures were unviewable. And when he did his third version, though there was enough light, Mork had made the picture represent himself standing in a jail cell, the bars lining his face. But the fourth version was perfect. Mindy had him add his signature on the photograph, as well as the bottom of the page, and she also had him change the numbers of the passport, a precaution that really wouldn’t help if the sheriff bothered to check them, since there would be no record of a Mork Ricardo in Washington. Mindy told Mork to stick to the story he had told the psychiatrist and to keep trying to behave like an Earthling.
“You are not taking me with you now?” Mork asked.
“First I have to show them the passport,” she said. She assured him that he wouldn’t have to stay any longer than one more night. But the fact was, Mindy had no idea if she could get Mork released. The legality of this situation had her confused. She went into the sheriff’s office boldly, however. She didn’t care how much trouble she got into trying to free Mork. It was completely her fault that he had gotten into this mess. If her father hadn’t been so old-fashioned, Tilwick would never have seen Mork, much less
put him away.
“Well, how’d it go?” the sheriff asked. Tilwick was with him. He also looked curiously at Mindy. What if they had noticed about the names? Mindy worried. As soon as she showed that passport, she would be committing fraud—at least. Well, now was not the time to think about that, she decided, and the less time she wasted trying to get Mork out, the less time they had to notice that he was more than some nutty hippie.
Mindy looked serious and apologetic. “I convinced him the joke wasn’t very funny. And it turned out he had his passport with him all the time.” Mindy tossed the blue booklet onto the sheriff’s desk. “He had it hidden, uh, in his pants,” she guessed, hoping that they hadn’t searched Mork, which they hadn’t, since this was merely a holding cell.
Tilwick and the sheriff were both surprised. When the sheriff opened up Mork’s fake passport, Tilwick leaned over so much that the sheriff looked up at him and said, “Do you mind?”
“Sorry, Chief,” Tilwick said.
The sheriff looked at it carefully and then checked its contents against the information Dr. Litney had called in. “Yeah, that checks out.”
“Now, can I put him up at my apartment until the hearing?” Mindy said. “You can tell he’s harmless, even if you won’t believe me that he isn’t crazy.”
The sheriff had learned, during his thirty-five-year tenure as a police officer, that when you’re unsure, the best thing to do is look smart and keep your mouth shut. So he stared and looked hard at Mindy. But as tough as he made himself look, he really didn’t believe that this pretty, sweet young woman was up to anything bad. Besides, Tilwick had told the sheriff that he had known Mindy all of her life, and that she was a dutiful and intelligent daughter who had never done anything more illegal than cross the street on a red light.
Tilwick wasn’t sure, however, that Mindy’s suggestion was a good one. “You sure your father wouldn’t get upset about that?” he asked. “I mean, having a married man stay at your apartment?”
Mindy almost forgot and asked Tilwick whom he was talking about. “Dad can sleep over, too, if he’s so suspicious,” she said, her eyes showing Tilwick that she wasn’t thrilled about his part in all this. “We’re going to need to have Mork out in order to find a doctor who will testify that he’s sane and get in touch with his wife and son,” Mindy said to the sheriff. “Can’t you release him in my custody?”
The sheriff normally wouldn’t agree to such a thing, but the look in Mindy’s eyes told him he wouldn’t have a minute’s peace if he didn’t give in. “Well, if Deputy Tilwick is willing to promise he’ll check in with you twice a day and make sure Mork hasn’t gone anywhere, then I guess I’ll agree to it.”
“Oh! Thank you!” Mindy said, rushing around the sheriff’s desk and kissing him on the forehead. Tilwick looked away and the sheriff also lowered his head.
“That’s all right. That’s all right,” he mumbled. “Uh, help her get Mork released and drive them to her apartment,” the sheriff said to Tilwick.
Mindy put her finger to her lips when Tilwick brought Mork out. While they stood at the desk, waiting for the deputy to do the necessary paperwork, the sheriff came out and said to Mork, “Well, Mr. Ricardo, I hope you realize that this sort of joking around isn’t a very smart thing to do.”
Mindy nodded encouragingly to Mork. “Oh,’“ she said, “I’m sure he does. You re sorry about all this, aren’t you, Mork?”
Mork put his hands to his head and rocked it back and forth. “Ayie, Ayie! Sí, I am so upset about it, I cannot tell you,” he said with a Spanish accent.
The deputy looked up from the form he was filling out. “I have it down here that he doesn’t have an occupation. Is that still how you want it to read?” he asked Mork.
“Well,” Mork said, looking sneakily around the room, “I don’t want you to let this get around, because if the papers get hold of this, I may not get that part I’m up for in that big new motion picture. But I am the headliner at the—”
Mindy interrupted: “At The Bitter End in Greenwich Village,” she said.
“Oh,” the sheriff said with a trace of disgust. “A rock star, huh?”
“Are we all finished?” Mindy said very loudly to drown out Mork, who was getting ready to sing “Babaloo.”
“I guess,” said the deputy behind the desk.
Mindy grabbed Mork’s arm and dragged him out while he said, “If Lucy calls, tell her she can’t have a part in the new picture. It wouldn’t be good for little Morky to have both parents in show business,” Mork went on to Tilwick as they got outside.
“Okay, Mork,” Mindy said. “You’ve had a rough day. Why don’t you just sit still and not bother talking?” This, of course, shut Mork up from telling about the last time he and Lucy and Fred and Ethel were in court. It was over a broken television. Mork realized now how tragic that particular program had been. For humans, a broken television is like being in exile, Mork thought. You are cut off completely from reality.
He was quiet during the ride home. Mindy had certainly done a wonderful thing, he thought, getting him out of the jail. Her sacrifice interested him. It was completely different behavior from an Orkan’s. To defy authority on Ork was never done knowingly—and certainly not out of friendship. Mork thought that this action by Mindy was the most important thing he had found out so far about Earthlings. He sure had a lot to tell Orson in his next report.
***
15
When Tilwick drove up to Mindy’s house, he was surprised that Mindy didn’t even invite him in for coffee. In the first place she wanted to get Mork away from the policeman before he made things worse. And in the second place she needed to save all the coffee for Mork, who was famished for a hot pot of it and who gobbled up all the gardenias Mindy had bought for him.
Meanwhile, Tilwick wasn’t sure he had done the right thing, letting Mindy bring that weirdo home. So he went immediately to Fred’s and told him Mork was back in Mindy’s apartment.
When Fred heard that Mork wasn’t really crazy, that he was a rock singer on his way to Hollywood, who had a wife and child back in New York, he was enraged and suspicious all over again. He made Tilwick drive him to Mindy’s, raving all the way that the story made no sense. What kind of crazy way was that to go to Hollywood from New York? Fred said. And the fact that Mork had a wife and baby made him staying at Mindy’s all the more frightening to Fred. “I’m gonna get to the bottom of this,” Fred swore to Tilwick as he got out of the car.
“I can’t wait or go in with you,” Tilwick said, “because I’m on duty. But if you need me, call in to the station and they’ll radio me.”
So Fred banged on Mindy’s door. She had locked it this time. She had learned from the disaster last time when her father had walked in without warning. “Dad,” Mindy said, “what are you doing here?”
“You expected me to take this lying down?” Fred said angrily, barging past Mindy.
Mork looked at Fred with surprise. “I thought humans lie down flat,” Mork said.
‘What are you doing here?” Fred yelled at Mork.
“Why aren’t you with your wife and baby?”
“Dad!” Mindy protested, closing the door.
“What’s all this about Hollywood? I want the plain, unvarnished truth of what you and Mindy were doing here last night.”
“We were sleeping,” Mork said.
Fred couldn’t believe Mork was being so brazen. “Don’t you have the decency even to lie?”
“Daddy,” Mindy said, “it’s not like it seems. The only reason he stayed here is because—”
Fred stared at her, waiting. Mindy hesitated.
“Well?” Fred said.
“I can’t tell you. It’s a secret.”
Fred drew himself up threateningly. “We’ve never kept secrets from each other—like the time you and Bonnie Tilwick drank that bottle of wine. Even though you were only seven, you came right in and told me.”
Mindy shook her head and smiled sarcasti
cally. “Not exactly. I came right in and threw up on you.
“You see?” Fred said, as if she had proved his point. “And some kids cant even talk to their parents. Now, I demand to know what’s going on between you two!” Fred looked at Mindy pleadingly. “After all,” he added pathetically, “I love you.”
“Ah,” Mork said, impressed. “That is nice. Why don’t you tell him, Mindy?” Mork hopped on his feet to get a better view of Fred’s bald head. “Anyone that bald can’t be all bad.” On Ork, baldness was considered a distinguished attribute, mostly because it meant that a thin film of dust could settle nicely on the bald spots.
Mindy sighed. “You mean, Mork, that after all he’s done to you, you’re willing to trust him?”
“What have I done to him?” Fred demanded.
“Oh, come on, Dad,” Mindy said, also angry. “You got him thrown into jail for doing nothing more than staying over at my apartment.”
Fred looked embarrassed. “I didn’t do that. Tilwick—”
“No excuses,” Mindy said. “Tilwick only did what he thought would please you.”
“Mindy-Earthling,” Mork said in his deep announcers voice, “please do not quarrel because of me.” Mork looked very unhappy to Mindy. In fact, he had rushed through his dinner of gardenias and coffee and was suffering from cez-gekup, an unpleasant form of indigestion.
Mindy sighed again. Well, she had to confide in someone. She needed help with Mork’s defense at the sanity hearing. And, besides, it was her fathers crazy suspicion that had started this trouble. And who knew what more trouble Fred would create if Mindy didn’t relieve his worries? “All right,” she said. “But first you must promise never to breathe a word of this to anyone.”
Fred had no intention of keeping the secret if it was something that might endanger Mindy, but he promised, anyway. Sometimes, being a father is a very confusing moral problem. “Okay, I promise,” he said.
Mindy smiled. This was the first time she was able to be totally honest about Mork. And how badly she had wanted to spring this wonderful surprise on someone! She had been bursting with the desire to tell. Imagine meeting a spaceman and not being able to tell anyone about it! “Mork,” she said, very excited, and looked at Mork with wide eyes, “is from Ork—another planet.”