Okay, the wait is over!
As promised, my new story has arrived!
It's a mixture of backstory and aftermath, set after Mac's coma. I thought I would explore what happened when Harry left the family, so there is a flashback to a little adventure a young Mac embarks on to find him. Enjoy!
Memories of Life and Death Part One
Rated: PG
MacGyver gently ran his hands over the new headstone marking the grave of Harry Jackson, his beloved grandfather and newest addition to the MacGyver family plot. The small, modest, yet well-kept area of the cemetery housed enough tragedy—his mother, Ellen, dead of a stroke, his father and grandmother dead in a car accident. Even he had come close to being buried there recently, only just released from the hospital after recovering from his coma. After what he had experienced while in that deep state of unconsciousness, barely clinging to life, he had been anxious to visit the gravesite of his family, but the doctors wouldn’t release him until they tested him for brain damage and other physical aftereffects of the comatose state. Finally, after a few weeks of monitoring and waiting impatiently with extreme boredom, MacGyver was released from the hospital, the doctors pronouncing him fully recovered.
He was glad to finally be able to visit the cemetery, giving him the closure he needed. The headstones bearing his family’s names seemed so flat and lifeless compared to the reunion he had with them while in his coma, memories of their embraces after a long absence still fresh and vivid in his mind. They had given him the absolution he had long sought after, forgiving him for not being able to do more to help them, removing the guilt that had haunted him for most of his adult life. Still, MacGyver had doubts about whether the whole near-death encounter with them had been real. He never considered himself a spiritual man until his coma had challenged his beliefs about death. A part of him wondered if it had all been a product of wishful thinking. Glancing around the cemetery, he smiled slightly to himself, half expecting to see Harry’s ghost standing beside him.
“Well, you tell me, Grandpa,” he said softly in the breeze. “Was it real?”
He shook his head, not expecting an answer. He stared at the name on the headstone and began to think about the first time he had lost his grandfather…
***
1969
“He still might come back,” a teenaged MacGyver said, sitting with his mother Ellen at the kitchen table for dinner.
The house had been lonely since the death of his father and grandmother, and now his grandfather had inexplicably disappeared, leaving them with no word. Grief over loss had wearied his mother, and now that Harry was gone, she was prone to fits of sobbing. She stared blankly at her plate and then lifted her bloodshot eyes to look at her son. She smiled weakly at him, doing her best to remain strong for him.
“I don’t think so, honey,” she said. “It’s been several months.”
“Well, where would he go?”
Ellen shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “My dad was never a warm man. He didn’t like giving in to emotions or sentimentality. He kept those things private, hidden from us. It’s a complete mystery to me as to where he might have gone, or why.” She sighed. “Perhaps he just couldn’t handle it anymore.”
“That’s no excuse to leave us,” MacGyver said angrily. “Let me find him, Mom. Let me bring him back here and tell him that we need him, that he can’t just walk away from us like this.”
“No Son,” Ellen said.
“Why not?” MacGyver asked. “I could find him, you know.”
Ellen smiled. “I’m sure you could,” she said. “You’re certainly resourceful enough. But you can’t.”
“Why?”
“You still have school,” Ellen said. “You do want to graduate, don’t you?”
“I could make up the time I miss.”
“The answer is no, Son. I’m sorry. I know you’re trying to help me, but sometimes there are things you can’t do. You’re going to have to learn and accept that.”
“I don’t want to,” MacGyver said. “I don’t believe that. I think anything can happen, that anything is possible.”
Ellen admired the idealism, fire, and spirit of her son. Still, she was the last guiding voice in his young life. She had to remain the voice of reason.
“Finish school first,” she said, “and then you can do whatever you want. For now, I don’t want you roaming around out there looking for your grandfather. Do you understand?”
“First, I lose Dad and Grandma, now this,” MacGyver said. “The accident might have been beyond my control, but at least I can try to find Harry before it gets worse for us—for you.”
Ellen could see the passion burning in her son’s deep brown eyes. She knew he cared for her feelings and was only trying to do the best for her. She considered herself fortunate to have such a son, and a part of her wanted to support him in his mission.
“I know you worry about me,” she said, “but I’ll be fine. Son, you don’t have to be the savior of everyone. You can’t keep feeling guilty about what happened.”
“I want to do this for you,” MacGyver said. “This has nothing to do with guilt. It has to do with right and wrong, doesn’t it? What Harry did was wrong.”
“Maybe so,” Ellen said, “but I don’t want to lose you, too.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I know you think so, and I believe you, but something could still happen to you.”
“Nothing will happen to me. Mom, I want to do this.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, “but no.”
***
Later that evening after his mother had gone to bed, MacGyver searched through everything his grandfather had ever written, trying to find any clues about where he might have gone. He found nothing. Frustrated but still determined to find Harry, he counted the money he had saved. There was just enough to afford some meals and a few nights in hotels. The rest of the time he would have to camp and hitch rides, but it would be worth it if he could find Harry and confront him. He thought about what he would say once he found him. He imagined hurling angry invectives at him, accusing him of leaving when his family needed him the most. A part of him also wanted to physically fight him, dragging him back home, making him feel ashamed for what he’d done. Then, he remembered his grandfather’s silent, gruff strength, how he was the kind of man that could intimidate with only a few harsh words or a stern, icy look. Still, MacGyver told himself, he would not allow Harry to scare him this time. He wasn’t a little boy anymore, after all.
Gathering a few belongings and his knife, MacGyver took a final look around his bedroom, knowing he wouldn’t return until he had Harry with him and there was an explanation offered for why he had left. Sighing, he knew it would be difficult for his mother to learn that he had gone to find Harry after she had told him not to. She would be upset, but he knew her anger would be balanced later by her happiness in seeing her father return to her when she needed more emotional support than MacGyver could give her alone. Carefully, he placed a note explaining where he had gone and that he would contact her on the road on his desk, turned off the light in his bedroom, and opened the window. The evening air was still chilly, but spring was approaching and the weather was growing increasingly warmer. MacGyver slowly lifted his legs over the window ledge and began climbing down the side of the house, careful not to slip or create any loud noises to awake his mother. Soon, he was on the ground and disappearing into the night.
To be continued…
"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer."
--Henry David Thoreau
brains+brawn+beauty+personality=MacGyver
I've always been facinated with MacGyver's backstory. The things that shaped him to what kind of man he became. That's probably why Passages is one of my favorite episodes.
