by Ralph Church
It wasn’t much longer before Mork reached the area Gene had told him about. Mork had no idea that he was in the right location, nor that the place would seem unpleasant and scary to a human being. It was a skid row, full of drunks and bums and shady characters who used the area to hide stolen goods or beat up people with whom they were displeased.
Many buildings were deserted, the windows boarded up, or sometimes just with a few pieces of jagged broken glass left in them, or, sometimes, just wide open and empty. There were storefronts with nothing in them except one lone chair, and there were small grocery stores whose shelves. were half-empty. The only clean establishment was a liquor store. The streets were filthy, the gutters littered with broken bottles and paper. Oh, Mork thought, what a pretty residential area. Indeed, it bore some resemblance to the most exclusive section of Ork’s capital, the city of Kork.
Mork could not find any of these places called flophouses that Gene spoke of, and he wandered in confusion. He was surprised that Gene thought he could find an inexpensive place to sleep in such a fine area, but he had to trust the boy he thought was Mindy’s brother. He was about to give up, however, when he noticed one storefront, its window painted in a swirl of colors, that had a big sign reading: FRIENDS OF VENUS.
Mork was delighted and surprised. He went into the cold, long room that extended all the way to the back of the building. The room was beautifully decorated, from an Orkan’s point of view. There were lots of spiders and plenty of dust. The walls were covered by writing, saying things like, ENNIS FROM VENUS SLEPT HERE, or, MARTIANS ARE NON-BELIEVERS, or, IF YOU’RE ON MERCURY, CALL 955-3131 AND ASK FOR MARY.
Toward the back were a few folding chairs facing a narrow cot. A man in a long white robe, with a few food stains, was standing in front of the cot speaking to no one.
“I told you never to sit on my throne,” he said to the empty cot. “I leave you guys alone for five minutes and the whole place goes to pot. You scoff,” he said with passion, spitting his words, “you non-believers. You don’t believe the men from Venus are coming down to take us to their planet next Labor Day.” The man, who was fairly short and had long, black greasy hair, raised his arms dramatically. “Then they destroy the Earth.
“And you!” he said, pointing an accusing finger at some invisible person on the cot. “You sit there eating a sandwich!” He was silent for a moment. “What? What’s the passenger count now? Well”—he walked to a folding table and glanced at a clipboard—“so far we’ve signed up three. Oh,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead wearily, “it’s so hard getting recruits.” The man slumped onto the cot and stared despairingly at the floor. “Oh, the pressure of it all. I’ve been walking the streets all morning trying to find believers, and what do I get for it?” He reached for his boots. “Sore feet,” he said, pulling at his boots.
Mork felt sorry for this perceptive Earthling. After all, he understood how difficult it was to convince Earthlings that life existed on other planets. “Hello,” Mork called out. “I am Mork,” he said, walking toward the defeated figure on the cot who looked at him wearily, unsurprised by Mork’s entrance. “I saw your sign, ‘Friends of Venus,’ outside, and I thought I’d drop in on the off chance that I might run into someone I know.”
“I am Exidor,” the man said, brightening at Mork’s words. He hesitated as he asked this question, afraid that he was being teased. “You know some of the Friends of Venus?”
“Nin, nin,” Mork said. “I only know some people from Venus. I got to know one very well. Cute—if you like short and fuzzy. His name was—” And Mork sneezed violently.
“God bless you,” Exidor said.
Mork didn’t understand why Exidor wanted that invisible Earthling to bless him, whatever that meant. “Oh, is that whom you were speaking to earlier? Anyway”—and Mork sneezed violently again—“had an adorable wife and a cute litter. Let’s see, their names were—” And Mork spat, then made a beautiful ringing bell sound with his finger, followed by a buzz. And then he opened his mouth and out came a sound like thousands of people cheering at a sports event. “Poor child,” Mork went on, “imagine being stuck with a name like—” And he made the sound of a crowd cheering again.
Exidor stood up, his eyes dancing with excitement. He held out his arms toward the ceiling and cried out, “A believer! A true believer!”
Mork shrugged his shoulders. “‘What’s not to believe?
“You believe in people from Outer Space?” Exidor said, still having trouble accepting Mork at face value. He had been tricked so often before, he was determined not to be toyed with by yet another jokester.
Mork was amazed by the perversity of human logic. Of course he believed in people from Outer Space; otherwise, all these Earthlings would have to be figments of his imagination. And why wouldn’t humans believe in Venusians? Venusians, or Mogglians, as Orkans call them, look almost exactly like the human species called the dog. That was why Mork had assumed fire hydrants had to be more than public toilets. He was accustomed to thinking of dogs as having developed intellects. “Am I not myself from Outer Space,” Mork said to Exidor, “when I land to visit my friends the Venusians?”
“Precisely!” Exidor was deeply impressed by this brilliant piece of logic.” He jotted it down on his clipboard. “Please, won’t you join me?” he asked Mork, getting out a Friends of Venus membership card.
Mork was taken aback. That was quite a rapid assumption of friendship, he thought to himself. But no doubt this poor fellow was lonely here on Earth. “All right,” Mork said, “but not for long. Where would you like to be joined? At the elbow, perhaps? Or would you prefer the knee?”
“No, no,” Exidor said. “I want you to join our group—become one of the Friends of Venus.”
“Ah. I would like that very much. I am fond of the Venusians. But right now my task is to find something called a flophouse. I hope I won’t have to go as far as Venus to find one.”
Exidor laughed. Mork was surprised to hear a human’s laugh sound so much like his own. ‘Well, you don’t have to worry about flophouses anymore,” Exidor said, waving his hand to show off his storefront. “You can stay here.” Exidor turned to the cot and raised his arms. “You will work with us and we will triumph. I knew I would find someone. You came just as I had begun to despair.”
“Work?” Mork said, remembering how worried Mindy was about him working. “You mean I’ve found a job and a place to flop out all at once? Lucky me. Mindy would be proud.” Mork thought of Mindy. “Heavy sigh,” he said. “Well,” he went on, tossing something invisible with his hand, “must cast off gloomy thoughts, as you humans say. What do I have to do to apply?”
“Nothing,” Exidor said, opening his arms generously. “Just believe.” He closed his eyes reverently and then opened them quickly. “And give me all your Earthly possessions.”
“That is a reasonable arrangement,” Mork said, glad that he wouldn’t have to part with any of his Orkian clothing: all those wonderful overalls and yellow T-shirts. “I haven’t been here long enough to gather many possessions. I have only six dollars,” he said, handing the crumpled bills to Exidor. “And a mosquito bite,” Mork continued, offering his left forearm, which had, indeed, a large red lump on it.
“I don’t want your mosquito bite,” Exidor snapped.
Mork was disappointed. “Would you like to scratch it?” he suggested, thinking that might be valuable to an Earthling.
Exidor wasn’t paying attention, however. He was greedily hiding Mork’s six dollars somewhere inside his robe. “I can’t tell you,” Exidor said wildly, feverish with excitement, “how happy I am to meet someone who’s actually seen Venusians.”
Mork was surprised. “You have never seen them?” Mork was impressed that Earthlings were intelligent enough to believe in things that can’t be seen. It is one of the first Orkian principles of intelligence.
“No,” Exidor answered, his eyes looking into the distance. His hands trembled. “But I have heard them in
my sleep. I know they are real and that they are our friends.”
“Indeed,” Mork said. “They are your best friends.”
“Tell me!” Exidor grabbed his arm and squeezed hard. “Tell me everything you know about them. Here, sit on my throne” he said, pointing to the cot, covered by a dirty, threadbare gray blanket. Exidor waved at invisible people near the cot. “Get off! Get off!” he yelled angrily. “I want this true believer to sit on the throne—not you infidels!”
Mork was saddened. “I didn’t know that you Earthlings had made the same mistake we did. Those poor people,” Mork said, meaning what he thought were the victims of invisible experiments on Earth.
“Tell me!” Exidor said, his face reddening as he whispered intently. “What are they like?”
Mork sat on the cot. “Well, they’re a good lot. They walk on all. fours and want to be everybody’s best friend.”
Exidor hugged himself, ecstatic. “I knew it! I knew it!”
“Oh, sometimes they get a little rowdy,” Mork admitted. Orkans are always objective. “They love to bay at their moons and tip over garbage cans.”
Exidor looked worried. “But that doesn’t make them bad, does it?”
Mork shook his head. “Nin, nin. I prefer them to your dogs. At least they do not have an obsession with squat red objects.”
“Listen,” Exidor said, “I want to tell you my philosophy for the Friends of Venus.” The crazed man got up and walked to his folding table, lifting a pamphlet. “Here, it is all in here,” he said, still whispering intensely, as if the walls were his enemies. “I want you to study it. And then memorize it.”
“Do I also have to eat it?” Mork said, knowing how Earthlings seemed to eat anything.
“No, no. We can burn it, instead. You must know so that we can convert people to our cause.”
Mork took the pamphlet and said, “I’ll study hard and let you know when I’m ready.” Mork flipped the pages of the book with his left hand while he pointed his bloink at the pages as they went past. He looked up when he was done. It all took only a few seconds. “I am ready,” he said.
Exidor was impressed. He leaned toward Mork, looking to his left and to his right to make sure that no one could overhear. “Did you learn that from the Venusians?”
“Nin, nin,” Mork said. “We monitored one of your Evelyn Wood speed-reading courses.”
“You have memorized all that?” Exidor asked, leering suspiciously. “You’re ready to go out and convert others to our cause?”
“I believe I understand,” Mork said modestly.
“All right, then. On your feet. We’ll have a dry run. I’ll be a non-believer and you try and convert me.” Exidor ran to the other end of the store, almost tripping on his gown. Mork got up and tried to recall something from Earth television that would help him. He remembered seeing a preacher on Sunday morning.
“You!” Mork shouted. “You non-believer!” Exidor stopped and stared. “I have need of your attention. God has need of your attention, friend. Do you realize those Venusians are comin’?” Mork looked meaningfully at Exidor and let this sink in. “They are comin’, all right. They are comin’ here, not on Veteran’s Day, not on April Fools’ Day but on Labor Day!” Mork lifted his arms to the sky and shouted, “Can you hear me? Are you ready? Because they’re going to blow this planet to smithereens for our sins.” Mork’s voice echoed in the room, while he slowly lowered his eyes to glare threateningly at Exidor. “I see you are not laughing now—no, not now that you realize the day of Judgment is at hand. Is there no hope, you ask? Is there nothing that can be done for us miserable sinners?” Mork paused a moment and then smiled graciously, his voice suddenly soothing. “Well, my friends, it’s not all bad news, because our friends the Venusians are sending a rocketship here to save one thousand of us.” Mork’s hand shot out as he yelled, “That’s right! Not two thousand, not two hundred thousand, but one thousand—one thousand believers! Now, you can stay here. You can stay on this doomed planet and be without friends, without a home—yes, without even a planet beneath your feet. Or!” Mork’s hands lifted to the sky. “Rise up with us and have a Venusian condominium of your very own!” Mork relaxed now and said in a normal tone, “Offer void where prohibited by law.”
Exidor stood there, in the sudden silence, and looked at Mork with awe. “That’s beautiful,” he said quietly, a smile beginning to dawn on his scrunched-up, worried face. Exidor looked around him at the invisible people of his imagination and said, ‘Why can’t you be more like him?” Exidor looked back at Mork and said again in a quiet, admiring voice, “That was superb.”
Mork put his hands on his ears and twisted them like dials. “Na-No, Na-No,” he said.
Exidor was very excited, his hands pulling nervously at his robe. “But you must tell me more about the Venusians you met on Earth.”
Mork sat down on the cot. “Oh, I didn’t meet them on Earth. I visited them on Venus.”
Exidor stopped his nervous movements. “You—you mean you’ve actually been to Venus?”
“Oh, yes,” Mork said casually. “I’ve visited every planet in this solar system.”
Exitor’s eyes bulged. “All of them?”
Mork waved his hand dismissively. “All except Pluto. It’s a Mickey Mouse planet.” Mork stood up. He had been considering this job offer and had come to a decision. “Exidor, as much as I need employment and appreciate your job offer, I must talk to you about your philosophy.” Exidor nodded intently and Mork continued. “First of all, the Venusians aren’t coming to Earth to blow it to smithereens.”
Exidor cringed. So he had been fooled again, he thought bitterly to himself. He edged his way to the folding table, where he kept long steak knife for occasions like this. He knew that those people from the hospital would come back for him, and he had no intention of letting them take him back to the mental hospital. This Mork had been clever, all right. “They’re not?” Exidor said as he neared the table.
Mork said in a cheerful tone, “They don’t even have the technology for space travel.”
Exidor was almost there. He didn’t want to move suddenly for it and tip off Mork. “They don’t?” Exidor asked.
“Let us face facts,” Mork said in a pleasant tone. He didn’t want to be too hard on this Earthling. After all, at least Exidor knew there were other life-forms on other planets. “The most scientifically advanced invention of the Venusians is the garbage can. And they only developed that so they would have something to tip over. Necessity is the mother of invention.”
Exidor had reached the knife. ‘Mork!” he yelled. “I had high hopes when you came in here. But you have tricked me. And for that you will die!” And he moved at Mark, waving his long knife.
***
18
Mindy had gone straight to the kitchen when she woke up and called out to Mork, asking if he wanted gladiolas or daisies for breakfast. When she got no answer, she went to rouse him, then found his note. She was terrified at the thought that he was out there wandering around. If he was taken in on another charge of nutty behavior, there would be no hope that they could get him through the hearing. And it was only ten minutes after she found his note when Deputy Tilwick phoned to ask if everything was all right. She had to reassure him three times because her first answer was so unconvincing. Tilwick said he would drop by around two o’clock to check on Mork, and when Mindy said that wouldn’t be necessary, he asked once again if everything was allright, so she had to agree to be home at two.
Where would Mork go? she asked herself over and over. She thought about it and thought about it and noticed that time was passing, and that made her too nervous to think clearly, and so more time passed while she tried to calm herself down. At last, she realized she needed help, and the only safe person to see was her father.
She rushed to the store and found her father staring angrily at Cora’s side of the store, which was full of customers, as usual, while his was almost empty. Mindy ran up to him and
took him toward the back, while she whispered, “Daddy! Mork has run away. You’ve got to help me find him.”
Fred couldn’t help but be relieved that Mork had gone. “Honey, maybe it’s for the best that he left. I mean, I don’t know why he did, but—”
“He left to protect me! That’s what’s so awful about it. He felt bad that he had forced me to deceive the police.” She looked at her father and didn’t see what she hoped to. Fred looked as if he wouldn’t help. “We have to find him,” she pleaded. “He’s like a child in our world. He has no concept of trouble or danger. If anything happened to him, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.”
Fred petted her gently. “Now, now, it’s not your fault. Maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s better for you—”
“It isn’t, Dad. Don’t you realize that even running away won’t help me? The police released him on my promises. He used my passport. If he doesn’t show up for that hearing, they’ll find out.”
“Okay, okay,” Fred said, convinced that he had to find Mork, at least for Mindy’s sake. “I’ll help you find him. But so what? Where do we look? He could have flown off anywhere.”
Mindy sighed. “I don’t know. But I don’t think he went off in one of those Orkian flying EggShips.”
Fred let go of Mindy and snapped his fingers. He looked excited. “You know, I thought that was strange.”
“What?”
“You know little Eugene? He takes violin lessons here. Well, when he came in today, he said something about having met your new boyfriend.” Mindy tried to think if she had introduced Eugene to any of her dates. She hadn’t. “You think he meant Mork?”
“Well, he took his lesson this morning before school. That meant he would have been walking past your apartment early in the morning.”
“And he hasn’t met Mork as far as I know,”
Mindy said, putting it together. “So you think he ran into him this morning when Mork was leaving?”