by Ralph Church
Mindy, meanwhile, also wasn’t feeling optimistic about Mork’s chances in the courtroom. She had only that night to coach Mork in human behavior. Besides, even if she had a month, that wouldn’t be enough. There were too many confusing things that might be said to Mork for Mindy to be able to think of them all. What amazed her was that no one seemed to think that blue-eyed Mork—with his Scandinavian features, speaking without a trace of a Spanish accent—was being accepted as a Cuban. She couldn’t believe that no one had noticed that Mork was using all the names from the “I Love Lucy” television show. Yes, no matter how childish and naive Mork seemed to her, her own people, human beings, seemed even more ridiculous.
***
21
Mindy spent most of the night preparing Mork for the hearing. She told him that he should pretend he was kidding the psychiatrist, and that he should apologize for doing so. Also, she told him that he shouldn’t use the “I Love Lucy” show for any more facts if he was asked anything else about his wife and son.
Fred called after work and asked if he could help. He also wanted to sleep over, but Mindy told him neither was necessary. Mindy was able to convince Mork to try sleeping on the couch one more night, and she explained at great length why she was helping him. Mork had a lot of trouble understanding why Mindy would risk jail for him, and he still seemed to disapprove, even after Mindy had told him it was a natural human emotion.
“I feel badly for you primitive Earthlings,” Mork said when she was finished. “But it is good that you aid me. Orson will be pleased when I report to him.”
The next morning, Tilwick came by with Fred and picked up Mork and Mindy to drive them to the hearing. It was held in a judge’s chambers, with only the judge, a prosecutor, a court reporter, Tilwick, Dr. Litney, George Hendley, Fred, Mindy, and, of course, Mork, present.
The prosecuting attorney was, a man in his forties, a fat man with bushy gray and black hair, who wore thick black glasses that made his eyes look large. The judge was thin, in his sixties, almost completely bald, and he spoke softly and compassionately. Hendley came up to Mork and Mindy the moment they arrived. “Did you hire another lawyer?” he asked nervously.
“No. Mork won’t need a lawyer,” Mindy said.
“The court will insist that I represent him,” Hendley said. “Look, let me defend him. I’m sure I can convince the judge that this is all due to the language problem.”
Mork looked down at his knuckle and said, “Perhaps he is right, Mindy. Let him have his chance.”
The judge banged his gavel. “Are we ready?” he said in his quiet but commanding voice. Everyone sat themselves around the large table, with the judge at its head. There wasn’t enough room for Mindy and Fred at the table, so they sat on a couch nearby. “All right,” the judge continued. “This is just an informal hearing. We will not be under strict courtroom procedure. Uh, Mr. Flount,” the judge said, looking at the prosecutor, “will you begin?”
“Thank you, Your Honor. Let me summarize the reasons for this hearing. Mr. Mork Ricardo was encountered by Deputy Tilwick at the home of one Mindy McConnell. He found—”
“Objection,” said Mr. Hendley, his voice suddenly squeaky.
The judge seemed irritated. “What are you objecting to?”
“Well, Your Honor,” said Hendley, “I’d rather that the prosecutor just present evidence. I’m not willing to concede any facts until I hear someone testify to them.”
“Your Honor,” Mr. Flount began, looking fierce, “I am merely—”
The judge put up his hand. “Look, gentlemen, I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to spend a beautiful day like today inside. Now, I’ve said that this is informal, so can we just hurry this along? Mr. Flount, if you have witnesses, let’s hear them.”
Flount looked unhappy while Hendley smiled at Mindy, as if to say: See how good I am? “All right, Deputy Tilwick, could you tell us what—”
“Your Honor,” Hendley piped up again, “isn’t this man going to be sworn in?”
The judge frowned. “Mr. Hendley, I know you’re a young lawyer so I’m going to forgive this zeal. This is not a courtroom, just a hearing. Deputy Tilwick knows that he is going on record and can be held accountable. Proceed, Mr. Flount.”
“Deputy, could you tell us what happened when you met Mr. Ricardo?”
Tilwick had been worrying about this moment all night. His duty was to report what occurred, no matter how angry Mindy was at him for doing so. Still, he intended to soften his testimony, until he realized that he would look bad if it seemed that he had arrested Mork without cause. And from the looks of Hendley, Tilwick knew he had better show cause. “Well, I dropped by Ms. McConnell’s and found Mr. Ricardo there. When I asked him where Mindy was, he said something about her being at work, and then he said that work was a strange idea.”
“Could you just tell us what about his behavior seemed strange to you?” Flount said.
“Yes, sir. We were talking and suddenly he asked me if I was part of Space Patrol, and when I asked if he was putting me on, he said no, that I wasn’t even hollow.” The court reporter, a young woman, began to titter. “And then I sat down on a chair and there was an egg on it.”
“A whole egg? Unbroken?”
“Yes, sir. Mr. Ricardo got very upset that I had sat on his egg, and he began speaking to that egg and to all the other eggs—”
“Other eggs?”
“Yes, sir. I then saw that there were lots of other eggs placed on the couch and chairs in the room. He began talking to them about why they didn’t fly away, and so on.”
“What did you do then?”
“I thought maybe he was on drugs, so I searched him and didn’t find anything, but he started making weird noises. I asked him if he had any identification and he said no and made more noises. So I took him in on a John Doe and recommended that a psychiatrist see him.”
“That’s all,” Flount said, a hand pointing to Hendley.
“Uh”—Hendley was fiddling with papers—“Uh, Deputy Tilwick, do you speak Spanish?”
“Excuse me?” Tilwick said.
Hendley stared at him. “I asked if you speak Spanish, the native tongue of Mr. Ricardo.”
“No, sir, I don’t.”
Hendley nodded vigorously, as if he had made a great point. “So these so-called strange noises that Mr. Ricardo made while you were illegally searching him—”
“Your Honor,” Flount moaned.
The judge leaned forward. “Mr. Hendley, again I will remind you that this is not a formal hearing. That sort of line should be saved for a more urgent and serious procedure. Could you just stick to the evidence dealing with Mr. Ricardo’s competence?”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Hendley said. ‘These strange noises, Deputy Tilwick, they might have been Spanish words, mightn’t they?”
Tilwick looked unhappy. “Well,” he mumbled, “they didn’t sound like Spanish.”
“I didn’t ask you that,” Hendley snapped. “I asked if they could have been Spanish.”
“Yes, sir, I guess they could have.”
“So you took Mr. Ricardo in because he placed eggs around a room and didn’t have any identification. Now, he has identified himself to you, hasn’t he?”
“Yes, sir.”
“So your only complaint against him is that he talks to eggs?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I don’t have any other questions, and I move that this hearing be dismissed.”
The judge snorted. “You can’t dismiss a hearing. You adjourn it.” This nicety of language impressed Mork. He had already been impressed by the judge’s baldness, a mark of distinction on Ork. “Anyway, I believe we have to hear from Dr. Litney. Mr. Flount?”
“Thank you,” Flount said, looking at Dr. Litney. “The court is well aware of your qualifications, Dr. Litney. Now, after you examined the defendant, what were your conclusions?”
“After extensive tests,” Dr. Litney said, looking at Mork with dist
aste, “I concluded that the patient is extremely childlike and incapable of learning. I also found marked anti-social behavior, and therefore I believe that he isn’t competent to function in society.”
“Could you tell us what, in your tests, showed these tendencies?”
“Well, he was very defensive about the Rorschach cards. He refused to admit that they suggested any imagery, even after I explained the process to him. This usually indicates latent hostility and defensiveness and also an inability to learn. The same thing occurred on the word-association test, where he insisted on giving me commercial products in response to general words.”
“For example?”
‘Well, when I asked Woman,’ he replied ‘Chanel Number Five.’”
“Anything else?”
“Yes. On the standard wooden-blocks I.Q. test, he insisted on attempting to fit a square block into a circular hole, thereby destroying a perfectly good board.” Dr. Litney looked upset at the idea of his board being destroyed.
“That’s all.” Mr. Flount gestured to Hendley.
“Dr. Litney,” Hendley said, “when you asked for the defendant’s name and address, he provided you with that information willingly, did he not?”
“Yes, he did.”
“He told you that he had been raised in Cuba, an underdeveloped country, did he not?”
“Yes.”
“And yet you gave him tests that are specifically designed for people who have been raised in a white, middle-class society?”
Dr. Litney sneered. “Mr. Hendley, these tests can be taken by anyone of any cultural background. They are simple requests to find pictures on cards smeared with ink, something anyone can do, and the blocks are a basic test of a person’s ability to judge perspective. As for the word association, anyone knows what words like ‘dog’ and ‘woman’ mean.”
Hendley looked dismayed. “But Mr. Ricardo is not as familiar with English as a native-born American would be. He answered you with television-advertised products because Mr. Ricardo learned English by watching television.”
“Your Honor,” Mr. Flount said, “is Mr. Hendley questioning Dr. Litney or debating with him?”
“I agree,” the judge said. “These are basic tests which are recognized throughout the world. Language should not be a problem here. Dr. Litney says that Mr. Ricardo shows an inability to learn—”
“Your honor,” Hendley said, “all I’m trying to show is that Mr. Ricardo deserves to be examined by a psychiatrist who is fluent in Spanish and can judge him on his—”
“I object!” Mindy yelled, jumping up from the couch.
Everyone turned and looked at Mindy with surprise. The judge looked at her with the trace of a smile. “Young lady, cases of this kind are not supposed to be a public spectacle.”
“I’m here as a character witness for Mork. Your Honor, I’m Mindy McConnell, and this is my father. I want to go on record as saying that Mork has a right to not have a lawyer. I will not permit him to be put in a mental hospital because his lawyer doesn’t know what he’s doing.”
The judge blinked and then rubbed his eyes. “Young lady, do I understand you correctly? You are objecting that Mr. Ricardo does have counsel?”
“That’s right,” Mindy said. She looked hopefully around the room and then burst out, saying, “Mork is innocent! True, he is a little different from most, but this great country was built on the rights of the individual to be individual. We have the God-given right to be eccentric, and therefore I demand that Mork be exonerated and set free!”
Fred began to applaud proudly, but the judge stared at him until he stopped. “I suggest,” the judge said, looking at Mindy, “that you sit down.”
Mindy was embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
“She’s sorry,”‘ Fred explained.
The judge looked around the room and sighed. “Well, now that everything is back to normal, let me consider the suggestion made by the defense counsel—”
Mindy groaned and put her head in her hands. She knew that if Mork was examined by another psychiatrist, he would be found out. Mork, meanwhile, had been enjoying the proceedings. They were so much like the television dramas, except that no one seemed to be as good as Perry Mason. Things looked bad for him, he knew, so it was time for a surprise witness, or a brilliant cross-examination. Mork remembered an especially good drama he saw, Inherit the Wind, where Spencer Tracy, when all was lost, got up and conducted a wonderful questioning ritual. Mork got up and put his finger behind the straps of his overalls. “Your Honor,” he said in a slow, wise voice.
“Yes, Mr. Ricardo?” the judge said, as surprised as everyone else that Mork was talking.
“If I correctly understand your law, I have a right to speak for myself?”
“Yes,” the judge said. “This is informal, and a statement from you will be welcome.”
“I was hoping,” Mork said with a slight deferential bow, “that you would permit me to question Dr. Litney.” Mork paused and the judge nodded his approval. Mork turned to the doctor. “Dr. Litney, is it true you don’t like me?”
Dr. Litney looked irritated. “Your Honor,” he protested, “I’ve never been interrogated by a patient before.”
“Then how,” Mork said triumphantly, “do you know I’m doing it now?”
The others in the room giggled. Even the judge smiled and. then said, “Dr. Litney, in the interest of justice, why don’t you answer Mr. Ricardo’s questions?”
Mork began to pace as he asked in a booming voice, “You said I was anti-social. In what way?”
“Well,” Dr. Litney’s voice was aggrieved—”you refused to cooperate. You wouldn’t participate in my tests.”
“You refused to answer my questions,” Mork pointed out. “Does that make you anti-social?”
“It isn’t my job to be interrogated by patients.”
“It isn’t my job to take your tests,” Mork replied calmly. There was a murmur around the room. Mork’s logic was impressive. For an Orkan, it was child’s play. Remember, every Orkan is a trained lawyer. Although, on Ork, there are no jury trials, indeed there are no courts. Legal matters are settled by committees that communicate telepathically.
“Now,” Mork said, running his fingers up and down the suspenders of his overalls, “about the tests you ran that made you hate me—”
“Your Honor,” Dr. Litney said, his voice breaking with frustration, “I don’t hate the man, but, as I’ve said, in one of my tests he tried to fit a square peg into a round hole.”
Mork raised his hand in triumph. “But I did it!”
Dr. Litney banged the table in frustration. “Yes! I don’t know how you did it, but I can’t get it out! You’ve ruined a perfectly good board. Do you know what those things cost?”
“And that’s why you dislike me,” Mork said, looking significantly at the audience. They were fascinated. Dr. Litney was breaking.
“I don’t have time for this” Litney said, his hands grabbing nervously at his head.
Mork frowned. What did he mean? Mork wondered. He put his foot on the table and lifted his pants leg. There, on Mork’s ankle, was a watch. Mork looked at it and said to the astonished room, “The time is ten-thirty-six.”
“See!” Litney almost jumped up from his chair in excitement. “Do you see that? He wears his wristwatch on his ankle!”
Mork looked offended. He turned to the judge. “No, Your Honor, as anyone can plainly see, I wear an anklewatch on my ankle. If I wore an anklewatch on my wrist, now that would be crazy!”
Litney put his hands to the others. “He’s a wiseacre! Your Honor, there’s nothing he won’t joke about!”
Mork bent down toward Litney and insinuated in a whisper, “And you don’t like wiseacres, do you?”
“No!” Litney shouted. “I don’t!”
“Aha!” Mork straightened up. “So you’re prejudiced against me.”
“I didn’t say that!” Litney yelled, pointing to the court reporter. “Do you
see how cleverly he’s twisting my words! I didn’t say that!”
“Oh!” Mork leaned back, smiling with wonder. “I see! I see! So now I’m clever. Isn’t that another word for intelligent?”
“No!” Litney’s hands reached for Mork, as if the doctor wanted to take back his previous statements. “No, it’s not! It’s not another word for intelligent; it’s another word for wiseacre.” Litney turned pleadingly to the judge. “Do you see how he’s twisting my words? He’s sneaky.” Litney looked at the others hopefully, but they looked doubtful, surprised that Mork had reduced the doctor to wild pleading so quickly. “He’s sneaky!” Litney cried. “On the inkblot test, for example, I asked him what he saw, and he said, ‘It looks like somebody spilled ink.’” Litney picked up the card. “Anybody can plainly see what these two people are doing!”
Mork watched the others. They were shocked by the doctor’s deterioration. “It seems,” Mork said in a quiet voice that sounded ominous, however, “that everything hinges on whether I am capable of learning.”
“That’s right,” Litney agreed. “And you flunked the word-association test outright.”
“You mean, when you would say a word like ‘white’?”
“Yes, and you might say ‘black.’”
“Tall?” Mork said in a clipped voice.
“Short.”
“Sky?”
“Birds.”
“Sex,” Mork hissed.
“Pamela,” Dr. Litney answered and then looked horrified. At the other end of the table, the court reporter, whose name was Pamela, jumped up, her face reddening.