Father Figure
By Emma Redmer
Set during the 7th season episode “Citizenship, Part II.”
Rated G (no objectionable material)
Genre: Drama
Characters: Balki, Larry
Synopis: Larry asks Balki about his father while on Mypos.
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Disclaimer: Perfect Strangers is the property of Lorimar Productions and Warner Bros. Television.

Larry Appleton settled down beside his best friend Balki Bartokomos on the hill overlooking the Myposian village Bikari-Biki. “Balki, isn’t this beautiful?”

“Yes,” Balki agreed, looking down at the village. “The annual Miss Sheep of Mypos Island Pageant is always beautiful.”

Larry shook his head. “No, Balki, that’s not what I meant. Isn’t the sunset beautiful?”

“Oh, that.” Balki looked up at the sky. “Yes, it is.”

Larry sighed and lay back against the grass. “Things couldn’t be better, huh, buddy? We’re going home to Chicago tomorrow morning, your mama is going to get a pet so she’s not lonely, and I finally got the grape stains off of my feet.”

Balki joined his friend on the grass. “I can’t wait to go home. I have missed Chicago. I have missed the comics at the newsstand. I have missed Mary Anne.” He grinned. “I even miss Mr. Gorpley calling me an idiot Mypiot behind my back.”

“You know, Balki,” Larry began, “there’s something I’ve meant to ask you.”

“Yes, cousin? We’ve already made all the necessary arrangements with Mama’s friend Porthi to take us over to Greece tomorrow.”

“No, it’s not about tomorrow.” Larry pulled at a blade of grass. “Balki, I’ve met your cousin Bartok, and I’ve met Mama, but I’ve never met your papa.”

Balki looked a bit surprised. “My papa?”

“Yes.” Larry smiled. “What happened to him? Does he live here? Did he go to the convention with Mama?” He shrugged. “You’re always talking about your mama, but you never mention your papa.”

Balki shook his head. “How silly of me! I was so happy to have you here that I completely forgot to introduce you to Papa!” He stood. “Come on. I’ll show you him.”

Larry joined him. They walked down the hill and through the village, making sure to take care of where they stepped. Balki led them to a large building that looked vaguely like some kind of church. There were gravestones scattered over a large field of flowers in the back. Balki gathered a bouquet of wildflowers from the field. “Papa likes it when you bring him flowers,” he explained.

“Well,” Larry looked around, “where is he?”

“Around back,” Balki told him.

Larry followed him to a plot near one corner of the field. He shivered. The rapidly darkening skies cast long shadows over the graveyard. “Balki, could we get this over with? A graveyard isn’t my favorite place to be during the day, much less at night.”

“You wanted to meet Papa, cousin,” Balki reminded him. He gestured at one gravestone. “Well, here he is.”

Larry watched sadly as Balki knelt before the gravestone. “Oh, Papa, the flowers Mama brought last week died. I’ll give you some new ones.”

“Balki,” Larry said gently as his cousin dug in the earth, “you never told me your father is dead.”

Balki looked over his shoulder. “You never asked.” He continued planting the new flowers.

“Balki, how can he tell if you’ve brought him flowers if he’s dead?”

Balki pushed more earth away from the gravestone. “He knows it’s his offering.” Larry looked confused. “Cousin, when you visit those you love in the graveyard in Mypos, you bring them an offering to show you that you haven’t forgotten them and that you don’t want them to get mad and start making things go thump in the night.”

Larry got down on his knees next to him and read the words on the grave. “Valdecki Bartokomos, Born 1940, Died 1966,” he translated quietly. “You don’t remember him, do you?”

Balki continued planting, stopping only to look at his cousin. “No, Cousin, I don’t.” He sighed. “I was very little when he passed over.”

“Hasn’t Mama ever told you about him?”

He shook his head. “I’ve tried to ask her, but she always changes the subject.” He patted the dirt around the flowers. “That why she afraid to lose me. She don’t want to lose me the way she lose Papa.” He stood and brushed the dirt off his knees. “She comes here every week to bring him flowers and tell him the news. I used to come here every week, too, before I came to America."

Larry got to his feet. “Balki, how did he die?”

Balki hesitated. “He was a professional shepherd, like me. He died protecting his flock.” He looked down, not wanting Larry to see the hurt in his eyes. “Some of his old friends told me about his death when I a child. There was an avalanche near the Pigniki pass. He got the flock and the apprentice shepherds out in time, but he did not come back.” He finally looked Larry in the eye again. “Cousin, you don’t know how lucky you are.”

“Lucky?”

“You complain about your big family, and about your papa, but you have a papa. I didn’t know my papa.”

“Balki, I didn’t realize.” He put his arms around his cousin as the tears finally spilled over.

Balki wiped his eyes with the back of his wrist. Larry handed him a handkerchief. He accepted it and gratefully (and loudly) blew his nose. “Thank you, cousin.” He sighed. “When I was little, I sometimes felt strange, because every child had a father to take them to sheep-herding class and to the tractor rallies but me. Mama or my uncles took me to everything.” He wiped his eyes again. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Mama and my uncles, but I wondered if I missed anything. Most Myposian families are very large, larger than yours, even. Mama and I were one of the only single-parent families in Mypos.”

“Balki, single parent families are a lot more common than you think.” He patted his friend on the back. “Some of the kids I knew in Madison lived with one parent or the other, and a lot of our friends in Chicago are divorced or single with kids.”

Balki nodded. “I’m going to introduce you to Papa.” He turned Larry to the gravestone and put his arms on his shoulders. “Papa, this is Cousin Larry, from America. He’s my best friend, and he is family.”

Larry felt a little silly, talking to a gravestone, but he followed Balki’s lead. “Hi, Papa. Nice to meet you. I've already met Mama.” He grinned and patted Balki's hand. "You've got a great son here. He's been a wonderful friend to me and a wonderful son to your wife."

Balki engaged in small talk with the gravestone about the villagers and the daily goings-on in Mypos while Larry looked around him. The dark made him nervous. “Balki,” he squeaked, his voice cracking in the lengthening shadows, “could we go back to Mama’s now?”

“All right, cousin, we’ll go. I know you are scared of the dark.”

Larry made a face. “I am NOT scared of the dark! It just makes me feel funny, that’s all!”

“Then why do you still sleep with a night-light, even when Jennifer is home?”

“I like light in my bedroom at night, ok?”

“Cousin, you have enough light in your room at night to keep Wrigley Field glowing for a month!”

Larry shivered. “Balki, this is no time to argue. Let’s get out of here.”

Balki nodded. “Just let me say good-bye to Papa.” He waved at the gravestone. “Papa, I have to go. I’ll drop by the next time I’m in Mypos. Mama should be around next week with more flowers.” He smiled. “Good-bye, Papa. I love you.”

As the two of them started across the field, Larry got an idea. He took his spare bottle of Maalox out of his pocket and ran back to the gravestone before Balki could ask what he was doing. “Papa,” he said, “I don’t know if you can really hear me, but, here’s an offering from America for you.” He grinned and plopped the Maalox next to the flowers. “You might call it my drink of choice.” He sighed. “Thanks, Papa.”

Balki gave him a funny look as he re-joined him. “Now, what was all that about?”

“Oh, nothing,” Larry insisted. “I thought he might need something to help him get through his next visit with Mama.” He put his arm around his best friend. “Why don’t we head home and see if Mama needs any help with that goat bladder casserole?”

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