by Ralph Church
Fred shrugged his shoulders. “It’s our only hope, right? We can’t look all over town.”
“Okay, let’s go. We’ll get Eugene at school.” Mindy had a little trouble convincing Fred that they couldn’t afford to wait until school let out. When Mindy said that they had to get Mork before two o’clock because of Tilwick, Fred claimed he could stall him. But she won Fred over by saying that the earlier they began looking for Mork, the easier it would be to catch up to him.
But Fred’s worry about rushing into a school and asking to speak to a student was well founded. The secretary in the administrative office was all set to allow it until she discovered that Fred and Mindy weren’t related to Eugene. She said in that case it was impossible, and when Mindy demanded to know why, the woman asked what it was they wanted from Eugene. That stumped Mindy. She began to mumble something about a valuable music instrument, and the secretary said, “Are you accusing this pupil of theft?”
It was here that Fred showed his experience as a parent. He insisted that the secretary allow them to speak with the principal. He was told that the request was impossible because the principal was away for a school board meeting. Fred asked for the assistant principal, instead, and he was told they would have to wait for a half-hour.
Mindy almost went out of her mind pacing the hallway for what turned out to be a forty-five-minute wait. She was tempted to run upstairs to the classrooms and search for Eugene, but she realized that would lead to disaster. They would probably be thrown out. Meanwhile, Fred tried to think of a story to tell the assistant principal, and by the time that official arrived, he had a story ready.
Fred said that while Eugene had been taking his lesson that morning, Fred had also been looking over some musical arrangements he had been doing for a local quartet. Fred said he had lost the sheet music and he thought it might have gotten mixed up with Eugene’s papers. The quartet needed the arrangement by this afternoon to rehearse for a performance tonight, Fred said, and he wanted to check with Eugene about it. The assistant principal agreed and gave Fred a note explaining the situation to Eugene’s teacher.
Armed with the note, Fred and Mindy walked to Eugene’s classroom and got the teacher to agree to let them talk with Eugene outside the class. By the time they had gotten the worried Eugene alone, more than an hour had gone by. Everything was going much too slowly, Mindy thought, as she said, “Eugene, don’t be scared. But we were wondering if you met a young man named Mork outside my apartment this morning.”
“I don’t know nothin’,” Eugene said. “I’m innocent!”
Fred smiled at Mindy. “I think we may have found a clue.”
“Gene,” Mindy pleaded, “this is very serious, Now, you did see Mork today, didn’t you?”
Gene looked down at the ground and mumbled, thought you two split up.” Suddenly Gene became bold. “What’s wrong with goin’ out with him? He’s cool!”
Fred frowned, but Mindy smiled and put her arms around Gene. “I want him back, Gene. That’s why it’s so important for you to tell me what he said to you.”
Gene was embarrassed. “I’ve been sworn to secrecy,” he said.
“But Mork may be in danger. If you’re his friend, what’s more important—to keep your word to him, or to help him out if he’s in trouble?”
Gene looked at her suspiciously. “What kinda trouble is he in?”
“Well,” Mindy said patiently, “if he isn’t back at my apartment by two o’clock, the police will arrest him.”
Gene’s eyes widened. “I’ll tell ya,” he said. “I don’t know if he took my advice, but since he had only six dollars, I told him about the flophouses on Mission Street.”
“Oh, no,” Mindy said. “That’s a weird neighborhood. He won’t stand a chance there.”
“On the other hand,” Fred said sarcastically, “he might fit right in.”
“Thank you, Gene,” Mindy said, kissing him.
“Yecch!” Gene said. “But don’t tell him I copped a plea,” he called out after Fred and Mindy as they rushed out.
While Fred drove to Mission Street, Mindy imagined all the horrible things that could have happened to Mork. They would kill a man for six dollars down there, she thought to herself, not to mention how quickly the police might arrest someone behaving oddly while there.
***
19
It was almost one o’clock when they arrived at Mission Street. Mindy suggested they split up to quicken the search, but Fred wouldn’t agree. He didn’t want Mindy walking alone there, even in broad daylight. They walked the length of Mission Street and saw no sign of Mork. Mindy felt depressed. She had expected, once Gene told them about his advice to Mork, that they would spot him immediately. Fred said that it was getting close to two o’clock and maybe they should go back to Mindy’s apartment to meet Tilwick. They could confide in him, Fred suggested, and he would help with the search. Mindy violently refused. “Let’s try this street,” she said, pointing down an alley.
“All right,” Fred said. “But then we’ve gotta head back.”
About halfway down the block, Mindy excitedly pulled at Fred’s arm. “Look!” she said, pointing to a glass window painted in a swirl of colors, with a sign saying: FRIENDS OF VENUS.
“Of course!” Fred said. “Let’s go!”
They opened the door slowly, Mindy almost afraid to look, afraid that she might see Mork dead on the floor. At first, as they opened the door, they heard a man crying, moaning, and crying. “Forgive me! O! Forgive me, Venusian!”
That made Mindy swing the door open and run in. She stood there, stunned, at this sight. Mork stood in front of the cot with Exidor’s steak knife in his hands, while Exidor was on his knees at Mark’s feet, begging his forgiveness. Mork was poking his hand with the blade of the knife, watching it bend back on contact.
“Mork!” Mindy cried out, relieved. “You’re all right?”
“Ah,” Mork said, in a quiet tone from an Earthling’s point of view, but in an ecstatic tone for an Orkan. “Mindy, it is good to see you. I find these Earth games very tiring. And I have made some sort of mistake.”
“Pay heed!” Exidor cried out. “He has come! On your knees, infidels!”
Mindy looked at Exidor with disgust. “Why is he at your feet?” she asked Mork. Fred was behind her, unwilling to enter the filthy room.
“This is one of your, what I believe you call, astronauts. And he attempted some sort of probe into my body with this,” Mork said, holding up the steak knife. “Apparently his knowledge of anatomy is limited,” Mork went on, “because if I had allowed him to place this in my chest, as he planned, I’m afraid there would have been serious damage to my system. Why, I might have required as much as two weeks’ rest.”
“He tried to kill you?” Fred said, backing even farther out of the room.
“Ah!” Mark’s finger went up in the air. “Was that it?” Mork looked down at Exidor, still on his knees, hugging Mork’s feet.
“He tried to kill you with a rubber knife?” Mindy asked.
“Nin, nin,” Mork answered. “Exhausted as I was, I decided it was worth the effort to prevent his probe, so I used my bloink to change this implement from steel to rubber. Plastic would have taken too much energy.”
Mindy stared at the lunatic Exidor, whose eyes looked wildly at her and Fred. “He is the true one!” Exidor shouted at her. “Beware!”
“Mork,” Mindy said, “let’s get out of here.”
Mork nodded. “I agree, Mindy-Earthling.” He looked down at Exidor. “I am sorry, my friend, but I fear you have a bit to learn about intergalactic relations before landing on Venus,” Mork said, extricating his feet from Exidor’s passionate grasp. “Perhaps you might try a career as a medical technician,” Mork said as he quickly hurried out after Mindy and Fred, while Exidor crawled after him, shouting, “Do not forsake me, O great Venusian! Take me from this doomed planet!”
“In a career as a medical technician,” Mork said as he left, quot
ing one of those brief television shows called commercials, “you not only will have job swcurity, but you can also help save lives.”
They had to break into a trot in order to get away from Exidor, who followed them outside, pleading with Mork not to leave him behind. Once in the car, Mindy said to Mork, “Why did you leave? Don’t you realize how much trouble you could have gotten into?”
“It is against our laws to hurt people,” Mork explained. “I was causing you to risk jail, and also I was making your parental unit unhappy.”
“Parental unit?” Fred mumbled. “I think, Mork, that we should be on a first-name basis. Just call me Fred.”
“Mork,” Mindy said, “it is very difficult not to cause human beings trouble if you know them,” she said, looking meaningfully at her father. “You mustn’t worry so much about whether you are causing trouble. Concentrate more on preparing for the sanity hearing.”
“Well,” Mork said, “how can I do that? There seems to be a great variety of acceptable human behavior.” Indeed, this was one of the things that most puzzled Mork about Earthlings. On Ork, everyone’s behavior was strictly defined. Either something was legal or it was not. On Earth, munchkins spoke differently from Mindy, Smokies talked like cowboys, Fred spoke like the daddy on “Father Knows Best,” and Cora spoke like nobody Mork had ever heard. It was all very confusing.
***
20
Mindy tried to explain to Mork about Earth behavior as they hurriedly went back to her apartment. They were still talking when they got to her apartment, where they found Tilwick, waiting impatiently. “I sure am glad to see you,” he said. “I was just about to call in that Mork had run off.”
“Away,” Mork corrected.
“What?” Tilwick said, alarmed.
“Nothing,” Mindy snapped. “Everything’s fine.”
“Well, his lawyer is here,” Tilwick said, standing aside to reveal a shy, pale, brown-haired young man who was carrying a huge folder of papers. The papers were slipping out the sides of the folder and the young man had trouble pushing them back in.
“Hello,” he said, his eyes on his papers. “My name is George Hendley. The court appointed me.”
“Greetings,” Mork said pleasantly.
Mindy pushed Mork on into the building. “Uh, he doesn’t need a lawyer,” she said, turning and blocking Hendley’s way in.
Tilwick frowned. “Don’t be silly, Mindy. That’s exactly what he does need.”
“Well, we’ll hire one,” Mindy answered defensively.
“We will?” Fred said, thinking of his low bank balance.
Hendley cleared his throat and a paper fell to the ground. “Pardon me,” he said. “Until you do hire another lawyer, it is my responsibility to interview, uh”—George turned his head to look at a paper he was holding on top of the folder—“Mr. Mork Ricardo, in case, for some reason, he appears without legal representation.”
Tilwick looked at Mindy suspiciously and she realized that she had to let Hendley interview Mork, or Tilwick would start asking questions she didn’t have any answers for. Besides, this Hendley didn’t seem to be bright enough to figure Mork out. Maybe nobody was, she decided. “Okay,” she said, letting Hendley in. “I’ll see you later, Dad.” Tilwick and Fred left reluctantly and Mindy let Mork and George into the apartment. “Sit down on the couch, Mr. Hendley,” she said, pulling Mork aside. “Be careful,” she whispered to Mork.
Mork nodded solemnly and tiptoed into the living room. George was too busy shuffling papers to notice the super-cautious way that Mork walked into the room. “Um, now, let’s see, Mr. Ricardo, you have a wife named Lucille?”
“Sí.”
“You don’t speak English?”
“I don’t?” Mork said. He was astonished by this news. He looked down at the knuckle of his bloink and turned it a notch. “Pardonnez-moi,” Mork said in perfect French, thinking, however, that he had adjusted his language mode to English.
Mindy knew immediately what was happening.
Mork had explained the language device installed in his bloink. It was a special machine that allowed Mork to speak any language. All he had to do was set the right dial. “It conjugates, it punctuates, it can do idioms—even most slang!” Mork had told her this, adding, ”Only two brandels and your money back if not satisfied.”
“Uh, Mork,” she said, “when you said ‘Sí’ to Mr. Hendley, he thought, since that is the Spanish ‘yes,’ that you don’t speak English. But you had been speaking perfect English up to then.”
Mork nodded and turned his knuckle back to the English mode. Meanwhile, George was staring at Mindy. “Are you a law student?” he asked with a worried look.
“Me?” Mindy said, surprised. “No.”
“So you do speak English?” George asked Mork.
“I can speak any language you wish,” Mork said, trying to be friendly. “If you’re not comfortable with English, we can try Russian.”
Mindy laughed in a fake, high-pitched way. “What a kidder,” she said.
George didn’t find the joke funny. “Yes, apparently it’s all this kidding that has gotten you into this mess.” He rustled some more papers. “Your wife is not available for the hearing?” he asked Mork.
“Lucy is available to the hearing and to the sighted. She is very generous to all the charities,” Mork answered, remembering many humans had said so on those programs where you sat in the home of Here’s Johnny and Johnny’s friend whose stomach kept getting smaller as the years went by.
“Mr. Ricardo!” George said huffily, his fingers pushing his glasses back nervously. “If you do not start taking this situation seriously, you will find yourself in a straitjacket.”
This disturbed Mork. He didn’t want to have to wear anything except his overalls. “I am most apologetic,” he said, hoping this would prevent any jacket-wearing. After all, he still wasn’t sure which way jackets were supposed to be put on.
“Now, I will ask you again. Can your wife appear in your defense?”
“No,” Mindy answered quickly. “She has to remain in New York.”
“Hmm,” George said. “That’s a pity. Are these friends, the Mertzes, available for testimony?”
“No.” Mindy jumped in again before Mork could speak. “But I can testify for Mork. And so can my father.”
“How long have you known Mr. Ricardo?” George asked.
“Well,” Mindy said, then paused, wondering if she could get away with a lie.
“My information here is that Mr. Ricardo lives in New. York and is only here in Boulder because he is in transit to, uh, uh”—George looked up, surprised—”Hollywood?”
“I’m up for a part in a big new motion picture!” Mork said happily.
“I’m afraid,” Mindy said quickly, “that I’ve only known Mork for a few days. But he is the most sane person I know,” she insisted and meant it. “He’s eccentric, I admit, but that’s not against the law.”
“Well, I imagine,” Mr. Hendley said, “that as a Cuban, some of your traditional cultural mannerisms might be misunderstood. And as for these I.Q. tests, it has been proved that they are culturally biased.” George hunched over his papers again and then exclaimed. ‘“What? How is that possible?” George looked at Mork. “How did you fit a square peg into a round hole?”
“He didn’t,” Mindy said.
“Well, the psychiatrist’s report says that he did.”
Mork shrugged his shoulders. “Dumb luck?” he suggested.
George shook his head as he continued to read Dr. Litney’s report. “The best thing we can do is to have Mr. Ricardo examined by another psychiatrist, so that we can get a contradictory opinion.”
Mindy violently opposed this idea. Mr. Hendley challenged her to give a reason why they shouldn’t. Was she afraid that another doctor would confirm Litney’s opinion? he asked.
“I think,” she said, “that many doctors would find Mork’s Latin habits to be strange, as you said. I don’t think we cou
ld find an impartial psychiatrist.”
George considered this. “Do you think we should try and defend Mr. Ricardo as a political prisoner?”
“You mean,” Mork interrupted, “that there would be demonstrations?” He had seen such things on those programs where Earthlings sit at desks, smiling while they show pictures of people being killed and buildings burning down. “‘FREE MORK’ signs?” he went on, intrigued by the notion.
George stared at Mork. He had heard that Cubans were a carefree people, but this complete lack of concern that Mork showed for his own freedom was disturbing. “I think,” Mindy said loudly to stop Mork from talking, “that we should consult another lawyer.” She stood up. “Mork is tired, Mr. Hendley. I’d like you to leave.”
George got up, papers falling out from his folder, and he tried to squash them back in while speaking angrily. “Ms. McConnell, I think that if you do not allow me to get all the facts, Mr. Ricardo is going to be in hot water at that hearing.”
“Shazbot!” Mork cried out. “My skin will look like Prune City!”
“I think it’s all a language problem,” George said, while Mindy took his arm and urged him to the door.
“Good-bye,” Mindy said as she opened the door and gave George a gentle shove out.
Mork was busy inspecting the unit in his knuckle. “I think I will ask for my money back,” he said, dismayed that all his troubles were apparently due to a failure of Orkian technology. But as he considered the lawyer’s theory—that all of his problems were due to language difficulties—he realized that it must be so. The language device could only tell him the meaning of Earth words out of the situation in which they were being used, and Earth words change their meaning depending on what words surround them. This, as has been said, is not true of Orkian language. Each Orkian word always means the same thing, no matter what the situation. Orkans do not have expressions like “You’ll be in hot water,” which means something different from what the words say.
If you say to an Orkan, “Go soak your head,” he would immediately plunge his head into the nearest body of water, especially since an Orkan breathes with his fingers and he would have no fear of drowning. Mork was convinced that all the confusion and violence on Earth was due to this sloppy use of language. His problem was that he could not adjust his language device to function differently. Nor would he want to. From Mork’s point of view, to learn how Earthlings misuse language would be as silly as a human trying to learn how to add incorrectly. Clarity and Legality are the words on the giant, dusty, spider-webbed arches that are the entrance to Kork, Ork’s capital. Actually, the words printed there read: FRUX EEK PRUX, which mean Clarity and Legality in English. You see, there’s the problem—in English they don’t mean quite what they mean in Orkian.