But today even the misanthropy of camels could not shake Mike's moodiness. Nor did monkeys and apes cheer him up. They stood in front of a cage containing a family of capuchins, watching them eat, sleep, court, nurse, groom, and swarm aimlessly around, while Jill tossed them peanuts.
She tossed one to a monk; before he could eat it a larger male not only stole his peanut but gave him a beating. The little fellow made no attempt to pursue his tormentor; he pounded his knucks against the floor and chattered helpless rage. Mike watched solemnly.
Suddenly the mistreated monkey rushed across the cage, picked a monkey still smaller, bowled it over and gave it a dubbing worse than the one he had suffered. The third monk crawled away, whimpering. The other monkeys paid no attention.
Mike threw back his head and laughed — and went on laughing, uncontrollably. He gasped for breath, started to tremble and sink to the floor, still laughing.
«Stop it, Mike!»
He did cease folding up but his guffaws went on. An attendant hurried over. «Lady, do you need help?»
«Can you call us a cab? Ground, air, anything — I've got to get him out of here.» She added, «He's not well.»
«Ambulance? Looks like he's having a fit.»
«Anything!» A few minutes later she led Mike into a piloted air cab. She gave their address, then said urgently «Mike, listen to me! Quiet down.»
He became somewhat quiet but continued to chuckle, laugh aloud, chuckle again, while she wiped his eyes, all the minutes it took to get home. She got him inside, got his clothes off, made him lie down. «All right, dear. Withdraw if you need to.»
«I'm all right. At last I'm all right.»
«I hope so.» She sighed. «You scared me, Mike.»
«I'm sorry, Little Brother. I was scared, too, the first time I heard laughing.»
«Mike, what happened?»
«Jill … I grok people!»
«Huh?»(«????»)
(«I speak rightly, Little Brother. I grok.»)«I grok people now, Jill … Little Brother … precious darling … little imp with lively legs and lovely lewd lascivious lecherous licentious libido … beautiful bumps and pert posterior … soft voice and gentle hands. My baby darling.»
«Why, Michael!»
«Oh, I knew the words; I simply didn't know when or why say them … nor why you wanted me to. I love you, sweetheart — I grok “love” now, too.»
«You always have. And I love you … you smooth ape. My darling.»
«“Ape”, yes. Come here, she ape, put your head on my shoulder and tell me a joke.»
«Just tell you a joke?»
«Well, nothing more than snuggling. Tell me a joke I've never heard and see if I laugh at the right place. I will, I'm sure of it — and I'll tell you why it's funny.Jill… I grok people!»
«But how, darling? Can you tell me? Does it need Martian? Or mind-talk?»
«No, that's the point. I grok people. I am people… so now I can say it in people talk. I've found out why people laugh. They laugh because it hurts … because it's the only thing that'll make it stop hurting.»
Jill looked puzzled. «Maybe I'm the one who isn't people. I don't understand.»
«Ah, but you are people, little she ape. You grok it so automatically that you don't have to think about it. Because you grew up with people. But I didn't. I've been like a puppy raised apart from dogs — who couldn't be like his masters and had never learned how to be a dog. So I had to be taught. Brother Mahmoud taught me, Jubal taught me, lots of people taught me … and you taught me most of all. Today I got my diploma — and I laughed. That poor little monk.»
«Which one, dear? I thought that big one was just mean … and the one I flipped the peanut to turned out to be just as mean. There certainly wasn't anything funny.»
«Jill, Jill my darling! Too much Martian has rubbed off on you. Of course it wasn't funny; it was tragic. That's why I had to laugh. I looked at a cageful of monkeys and suddenly I saw all the mean and cruel and utterly unexplainable things I've seen and heard and read about in the time I've been with my own people — and suddenly it hurt so much I found myself laughing.»
«But — Mike dear, laughing is what you do when something is nice … not when it's horrid.»
«Is it? Think back to Las Vegas — When you girls came out on stage, did people laugh?»
«Well … no.»
«But you girls were the nicest part of the show. I grok now, that if they had laughed, you would have been hurt. No, they laughed when a comic tripped over his feet and fell down … or something else that is not a goodness.»
«But that's not all people laugh at.»
«Isn't it? Perhaps I don't grok its fullness yet. But find me something that makes you laugh, sweetheart … a joke, anything — but something that gave you a belly laugh, not a smile. Then we'll see if there isn't a wrongness somewhere and whether you would laugh if the wrongness wasn't there.» He thought. «I grok when apes learn to laugh, they'll be people.»
«Maybe.» Doubtfully but earnestly Jill started digging into her memory for jokes that had struck her as irresistably funny, ones which had jerked a laugh out of her:
« — her entire bridge club.» … «Should I bow?» … «Neither one, you idiot — instead!» …« — the Chinaman objects.» … « — broke her leg.» … « — make trouble for me!» … « — but it'll spoil the ride for me.» … « — and his mother-in-law fainted.» … «Stop you? I bet three to one you could do it!» … « — something has happened to Ole.» … « — and so are you, you clumsy ox!»
She gave up on «funny» stories, pointing out that such were just fantasies, and tried to recall real incidents. Practical jokes? All practical jokes supported Mike's thesis, even ones as mild as a dribble glass — and when it came to an interne's notion of a joke — internes should be kept in cages. What else? The time Elsa Mae lost her panties? It hadn't been funny to Elsa Mae. Or the —
She said grimly, «Apparently the pratt fall is the peak of all humor. It's not a pretty picture of the human race, Mike.»
«Oh, but it is!»
«Huh?»
«I had thought — I had been told — that a “funny” thing is a thing of goodness. It isn't. Not ever is it funny to the person it happens to. Like that sheriff without his pants. The goodness is in the laughing. I grok it is a bravery … and a sharing … against pain and sorrow and defeat.»
«But — Mike, it is not a goodness to laugh at people.»
«No. But I was not laughing at the little monkey. I was laughing at us. People. And suddenly I knew I was people and could not stop laughing.» He paused. «This is hard to explain, because you have never lived as a Martian, for all that I've told you about it. On Mars there is never anything to laugh at. All the things that are funny to us humans either cannot happen on Mars or are not permitted to happen — sweetheart, what you call “freedom” doesn't exist on Mars; everything is planned by the Old Ones — or the things that do happen on Mars which we laugh at here on Earth aren't funny because there is no wrongness about them. Death, for example.»
«Death isn't funny.»
«Then why are there so many jokes about death? Jill, with us — us humans — death is so sad that we must laugh at it. All those religions — they contradict each other on every other point but each one is filled with ways to help people be brave enough to laugh even though they know they are dying.» He stopped and Jill could feel that he had almost gone into trance. «Jill? Is it possible that I was searching them the wrong way? Could it be that every one of all religions is true?»
«Huh? How could that be? Mike, if one is true, then the others are wrong.»
«So? Point to the shortest direction around the universe. It doesn't matter where you point, it's the shortest … and you're pointing back at yourself.»
«Well, what does that prove? You taught me the true answer, Mike. “Thou art God”.»