Separation Anxiety
Part Two
Something hard and uncomfortable pressed against the tender, sensitive tissue inside Mork's throat. He felt it as he slowly regained consciousness, his eyes fluttering open. Panicking, he swallowed against it and tilted his head back, struggling weakly to remove it, lifting his trembling hands and trying to pull on whatever was obstructing his throat, tearing at the tape that had secured it around his mouth. He tried to cry out for help, but he couldn't manage a sound, the tube lodged in his throat preventing him from speaking.
"Don't do that," a voice said, echoing distantly in his semi-conscious state. He felt someone grab his hands to restrain his actions, even though his skin felt numb and tingling. "That tube is in your throat to help you breathe."
Opening his eyes wider, at first all he could see was a glowing, white, amorphous blur. As his vision adjusted and became clearer, he saw a nice looking doctor standing over him, giving him a reassuring, kind smile.
"I know it's unpleasant, but it's time to remove it," the doctor said. "Now, I can only do that for you if you follow my instructions and remain calm. Do you think you can do that for me?"
Mork didn't know if he could trust this man, even though he wore the white lab coat of a physician. He couldn't even be sure where he was, not remembering what had happened to him to put him in such a helpless position. No doctor on Ork would ever consider shoving a tube down his throat to help him breathe, so he assumed he was still on Earth and had been injured somehow, leaving him to be subjected to their primitive form of medicine. He wondered if they knew he was an alien. Deciding he didn't have any other options available to him and desperate to have the pressure from the tube relieved from his throat, he nodded, allowing the doctor to help him.
"Good. Now, I must warn you, it will not be easy or comfortable. This is a delicate procedure that requires your full cooperation. You must do exactly as I say, or you will only cause further damage to yourself."
Mork blinked slowly, showing he understood.
"All right. Now, I need you to take a deep, exhaling breath and sustain it for as long as you can. Ready? Now. Breathe. That's it, push."
Mork strained as hard as he could, feeling the tube begin to slide against his throat like a snake, causing him to gag.
"That's it, you're doing fine," the doctor coaxed. "Just keep exhaling, that's it."
The tube was finally freed from his throat, and Mork gasped and coughed in relief, collapsing back onto his hospital bed in exhaustion. It required what little strength he had available to him to remain conscious, nearly passing out from his exertions.
"Nice job," the doctor said sweetly, offering him some ice chips to soothe his sore throat. "Here, take a few of these."
Mork eagerly took a few of the ice chips, his hand trembling as he placed them in his mouth. He closed his eyes in relief as he felt the cool, comforting, icy water glide down his battered throat.
"I suppose you're wondering where you are, how you got here," the doctor said, sitting down beside him.
Mork nodded, opening his eyes to look at the doctor.
"It was an accident. Apparently you decided to take one of the military Jeeps off the base for an unauthorized joyride, and you suffered a terrible, devastating crash that left you severely injured. You were in a coma for seven weeks and only recently regained consciousness."
Mork frowned, looking around. He noticed he wasn't in a normal Earth hospital, but some military facility, uniformed guards patrolling the corridors.
"You're very fortunate we understand enough of your alien physiology to have been able to help you," the doctor said. "Your anatomy resembles humans enough that we knew how to save you, to keep you alive. Without our intervention, you wouldn't have survived."
Mork began to realize that his secret was still safe from humanity at large, that somehow his friends in the government had been tracking him as usual and had been alerted to his accident in time to rescue him before he had been taken to a civilian hospital, where the truth about his origins would have been revealed to the world. He found himself grateful and relieved, knowing most of Earth's population wasn't ready for the truth about him yet, knowing what panic and mass hysteria might have resulted had he been discovered, not to mention how his chances of survival would have dwindled, civilian doctors unfamiliar with alien biology. Still, something about how the doctor described what had happened to him didn't seem right. The man sitting by his bed seemed too glossy, almost like those televangelists he had seen on TV and learned to mock. He didn't know why, but there was something about this man that Mork found insincere. He had never seen him before, not since he began working for the government. Moving his chapped lips, finding it strange to feel them after having them taped shut around the tube for so long, he tried to form words for the first time since the tube had been removed from his throat.
"Don't try to talk Mork," the doctor said. "Your throat is still raw and needs to rest. You shouldn't strain your vocal chords. You could damage them."
"Mindy," Mork said, his voice barely an audible whisper.
The doctor raised his eyebrow. "Mindy?" He asked. "Who's Mindy?"
"My girlfriend. Has she been here to visit me? Is she all right?"
The doctor sighed and shook his head. "I'm not sure who you're referring to Mork," he said. "You don't have a girlfriend."
Mork's eyes widened. "Yes I do," he said, almost childishly. "Of course I do. Haven't you seen her? All of you government guys that I work with know about her. Has she been here to see me?"
"What does she look like?"
Mork smiled as he thought about her, almost blushing despite his pallor. "Well, you know, she has long brown hair, very pretty. We share an apartment together in Boulder. Her father owns a music store, except right now he's touring with an orchestra I-I think." He looked at the doctor. "Come on, you have to know about her."
The doctor shook his head. "Mork, I'm sorry to inform you, but you have never left this base since you landed. I don't know who she is, but this Mindy that you seem to have conjured up in your mind must be a residual coping mechanism for the trauma you've experienced. She's a figment of your imagination. She doesn't exist."