Okay, so the story continues, this time with Mac finding himself in an unusual situation on while on the road. Read on!

Memories of Life and Death Part Two
Rated: PG

Harry Jackson might not have left any clues regarding his whereabouts, but MacGyver did know where to start looking for him—the places they used to visit. Even though it seemed too obvious, he decided to search the cabin in northern Minnesota first. The property sat on several secluded, peaceful acres and was surrounded by a lake. If his grandfather had wanted to distance himself from the family for awhile, it would be the perfect place to do so. Using some of the money he saved, he boarded a bus early in the morning headed for that location. He sat next to a kindly older woman who smiled at him pleasantly.

“Where are you going?” She asked him.

MacGyver didn’t feel like talking to anyone. He stared out the windows of the bus, watching the scenery streak past in indistinguishable blurs as they sped down the highway. He kept rehearsing in his mind what he would say to his grandfather if he found him, hoping it would be soon so his mother wouldn’t have to suffer more grief than she already had. Still, he didn’t want to seem unfriendly, so he turned to look at the woman, offering a small smile in return.

“To my grandfather’s,” he said.

“Oh, are you going for a visit?” The woman asked.

MacGyver frowned, trying to control the anger he felt towards Harry, simmering beneath the surface. “I guess you could say that,” he said.

The older woman looked around the bus. She saw several hippies lounging across the seats and she wrinkled her brow in disgust. “I just hope you behave yourself,” she said. “You’re such a nice, clean-cut young man. Don’t turn into one of these scruffy, lazy, good-for-nothing hippies, you hear?”

MacGyver noticed the contempt in her voice when she mentioned the word “hippie.” He looked down at his faded jeans, worn leather jacket, and his longish hair, wondering how the woman he sat next to could describe him as “clean-cut.” He supposed that in comparison to some of the heavily bearded, extremely long-haired young men on the bus, he was.

“Yes ma’am,” he said, smiling.

Their conversation faded after that, and MacGyver returned to the window. Several hours later, the bus stopped and MacGyver got out, thanking the driver and walking the long, country dirt road that led to Harry’s cabin. The vastness of the woods surrounding the area and the emptiness of it allowed MacGyver more time to contemplate what he would say when he encountered Harry. The two of them never had an easy relationship, even though they loved each other. As he got closer to the cabin, seeing its dark outline in the distance, MacGyver’s steps grew faster and more determined. He strode towards the entrance as if he was on the most important mission of his life, and at the time, he thought it would be. Restoring his family rather than helplessly watching it erode became his ultimate goal.

“Hello?” He called out, pounding on the front door of the cabin. “Harry, are you in there? Open up! It’s me!”

His loud voice echoed through the woods, but other than that, there was no response. MacGyver knocked on the door again and began looking through the windows. They were caked in dirt and cobwebs, making it difficult to see inside. The family hadn’t been to the cabin since MacGyver’s father and grandmother had died, and judging by the neglected appearance of the place, Harry hadn’t been back there, either. MacGyver squinted and looked inside, but it was dark. Taking out his knife, he opened a blade and began picking the lock to the front door. Once he had unlocked it, he pushed the door open, finding it stiff and creaky from rusted hinges. He glanced around, finding rustic furniture covered in dust and the fireplace cold and unused. Harry hadn’t been there.

Sighing, MacGyver turned back outside, locking the door again and facing the lake. Its placid, beautiful surface glistened in the sun. He smiled, remembering when he used to play hockey on the lake in the winter, sometimes with his father, and other times with his grandfather. He imagined himself as a younger boy, laughing and skating, teasing his father and grandfather with playful slapshots and roughhousing. His mother or grandmother always ended up scolding them and tried to ply them inside after dark with hot chocolate, but MacGyver never wanted to stop, and neither did they.

Now, not only was his father gone, but so was his grandfather. He knew that he couldn’t revive his father from the grave, but Harry was still alive—he had just chosen to abandon him, which felt worse than death to MacGyver. Picking up some smooth stones near the shore of the lake, he tossed them, watching as they skimmed across the surface. He should have known it wouldn’t be easy to find Harry, but a part of him wished he had found him at the cabin and it would have been the end of it. Now, he had to continue his search. Not sure where to go next, he decided to keep his search narrowed on the places they had visited together. He chose a campsite in Colorado as his next stop. He gathered his gear and decided to walk back toward the highway, glancing back at the cabin briefly before leaving. He thought about spending the night there, but it brought back too many painful memories. It was better to keep moving.

***

Ellen MacGyver wasn’t surprised when she found her son’s note. She knew him well enough by then to understand his rebellious, stubborn nature. Ever since he was a baby, he would listen to her, but he wouldn’t necessarily follow her rules, sometimes thinking he had a better idea. Sometimes, he did, amazing her with how mature and perceptive he could be. She knew her son was gifted and cared for her, but she hoped he had made the right choice this time. A part of her wished him luck on his quest to find her father, and a part of her worried as any mother with a runaway son would, debating whether to call the police and report him missing. Sighing, she clutched his note tightly in her hands until it formed a ball.

“Son, what have you done now?” She asked aloud.

***

Over the next few days, MacGyver traveled across the country, sometimes hitching rides, other times hopping a freight train or taking a bus, stopping to spend the night at cheap hotels and eating in diners. Occasionally, he would see a man he thought was Harry, and he’d try to approach him, only to be disappointed, the man always vanishing out of sight or blending into the appearance of someone else, some stranger. He was beginning to grow discouraged. Walking down another highway, hitching for another ride and feeling exhausted, his boots worn down at the soles from all his walking, he never felt more relief in his life than when a psychedelic hippie van with bright, colorful paint pulled over for him.

“Where ‘ya headed?” The bearded driver asked.

“Colorado,” MacGyver said.

“Cool,” the driver said. “Get in. We’ll take you that far.”

“Thanks,” MacGyver said.

Once he got inside the van, he found himself sitting with three young women and another man, all of them with long, flowing hair and bare feet, sitting on blankets. They smiled at him, and the young women stared at him, one of them a little more lustfully than the other two, her blue eyes sultry despite the overall innocence and youth of her almost fairy-like appearance. Her long blonde hair fell around her small shoulders in loose curls. MacGyver couldn’t help but stare back at her, flirting with her silently, grinning slightly.

“Welcome to our van,” the man sitting back with the girls said.

“I’m Steve,” the driver said. “That’s Danny, and the girl’s names are Jennifer, Alice, and Lily, but she prefers to be called Moonflower.”

“That’s right,” Moonflower said, her voice much like her appearance—a mixture of innocence and sexiness. She was the blonde that was staring the hardest at MacGyver. “What’s your name?”

“MacGyver,” he said, finding it difficult to concentrate when she was looking at him like that.

“I like it,” she said. The other two women rolled their eyes, either in jealousy or irritation over Moonflower’s advances.

“So, what’s your story, MacGyver?” Danny asked. “Are you running from something?”

“Sort of,” MacGyver said. “Actually, I’m trying to find my grandfather. He ran out on my family.”

“Man, that’s a bummer,” Steve said over his shoulder. “Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know,” MacGyver said. “Probably because my dad and grandma died several years ago and he couldn’t stand being reminded of it anymore when he was taking care of my mom and me.”

“Still, you don’t do that to your family,” Jennifer said, her voice filled with anger as if she had some experience with a family member leaving her, too. “That’s uncool.”

“I know it is,” MacGyver said.

Jennifer stared at him with intense green eyes and nodded.

“Family. Who needs them, man?” Danny asked. “Why don’t you just forget about him?”

“I would, but I’m doing this for my mom. She hasn’t been the same since my dad and grandmother died. I’m worried about her health.”

“You are so sweet,” Moonflower said, biting the tip of her index finger seductively, running it along her lips, doing her best to tempt MacGyver.

MacGyver blushed.

“Let’s forget about this for now,” Alice said, pulling out an ornate pipe. “It’s getting too heavy for me. It’s time to mellow out.” She lit the pipe and began inhaling. “Anybody else want some?” She asked, her voice constricted from holding in the smoke.

“I’ll take some,” Danny said, grabbing the pipe from her.

“Hey, we’re supposed to share,” Alice said, exhaling. “Don’t be rude.”

MacGyver watched as they smoked, passing the pipe around. The odor was pungent, and it gave him a headache as the smoke grew heavier inside the confined space of the van. He knew exactly what it was, having seen several kids from his high school sneak out during lunch to smoke it. It was Marijuana. He had done his best to avoid it, promising his mother he would never do drugs. It was difficult to ignore, though. They were all over the place, becoming the norm for the youth culture.

“MacGyver man, you want some?” Steve asked after taking his turn.

“Well I…”

“You should have offered it to him first,” Moonflower said. “He’s our guest, after all.” She smiled sweetly and took the pipe from Steve, moving over to where MacGyver sat, pushing the others out of the way to be near him.

“Watch it!” Jennifer snapped, glaring hotly at Moonflower.

“Go ahead, MacGyver, have some,” Moonflower said, holding out the aromatic pipe to him, the thick smoke curling toward his nostrils.

“I’d…better not,” he said, feeling awkward and embarrassed. He told himself that he was strong, that he could withstand peer pressure, but now he wasn’t so sure.

“What are you, some kind of square?” Moonflower asked, pouting like a little girl.

“It’s not that at all,” MacGyver said. “It’s just that…well, I don’t want you running out of it. This is your stash.” He felt relieved and pleased with his excuse, thinking it sounded pretty reasonable.

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Danny said. “We have plenty more.”

“Still, I…”

“What are you, afraid or something?” Jennifer asked.

“Go ahead,” Alice said. “It will make you forget about your grandfather for awhile.”

“Yeah, you’ll feel better,” Moonflower said.

As MacGyver watched the smoke curl tantalizingly through the air, he did wonder if that was what he needed. After drinking and getting drunk with his friend Freddie, he promised himself that he would never want to feel that out of control or sick again, but maybe he needed to be out of control at that moment. Maybe he needed to forget about his grandfather and sink into oblivion for a time to relieve the constant stress and anger he was feeling. Taking the pipe, he inhaled, allowing the rich smoke to envelope him in a dizzying haze. Moonflower kissed him, gently pressing her tongue inside his mouth. He eagerly returned her kiss, feeling giddy and euphoric. It was the best he had felt in a long time, he had to admit it. The next thing he knew, blackness swallowed him.

***

When MacGyver awoke, he found the van stopped and parked on the side of the road. Everyone else was still asleep, piled on the floor in a tangled mess. Moonflower’s thin, pale arms were limply draped over him, and he wondered what happened while under the influence of the drug. He couldn’t remember a thing, and he didn’t know how far they had taken things. Both of them were lacking clothes. Carefully, MacGyver wriggled out from under her, hoping not to wake her. All she did was moan slightly, and then she was still, breathing quietly. MacGyver found his T-shirt and jacket balled up in the corner, his pants flung across the other corner. He had to navigate through the heap of sleeping bodies to retrieve them, struggling to get dressed inside the cramped space without stepping on a limb or causing too much motion. When he was finished, he looked at the sleeping group, suddenly finding them pathetic. They had been hospitable and certainly weren’t dangerous, but he knew they smoked all the time, and it led to this kind of reckless behavior. It reminded him again of being drunk. He didn’t like it. Sure, it made him blissfully forget about his grandfather, but he couldn’t imagine spending his time getting high everyday, wasting away. His life was too important to drift away on drugs.

Quietly, he opened the back door of the van and stepped outside, looking at Moonflower one last time, hoping he hadn’t hurt her. He wondered if she would be upset when she awoke and found him gone, but then he caught himself, knowing she wouldn’t remember a thing, probably not even him. He was just an idle flirtation for her, nothing more. Still, it unnerved him to think that he might have taken advantage of her. He reached out and lightly touched her hair, wishing her and her friends goodbye. He closed the van doors and began walking away, a little saddened and wiser from his experience. From then on, he knew this was a journey he had to continue on his own without any distractions.

To be continued…

Mac on drugs!!! I hope that his mother or Harry find out and give him a good smack. It is touching that Mac went to find Harry but, he should have listened to his mother. I'm willing to bet that this is one of the things that make him so against drugs and drinking later on.

You've got it. That, and advising kids about running away--I figured he had to have some personal experience flirting with trouble. I never thought he was a full blown delinquent as a kid of course, but I pictured him getting into some scrapes like many young people do--experimentation and things like that.

Don't knock till you try it, as they say. But if you don't try it - especially in those days - how'd you know it's bad huh?

You know that would've been funnier if Mac just got high from the smoke in the van, instead of trying it.

Great story.

Is that anything like "How do you know a car crash is bad unless you've had one"?

No that is like something trying all the other products (like booze, liquids and tobacco) that appears to be bad for you but you don't know it at first.

Oh .... I get it ...

I don't

Me neither. I just tried to sound smart.... and failed miserably.

Don't you hate it when that happens?! Gahhhh!

Ahh.,.. a new chapter. This is what I come here for. (That, and the company of you fine folks....)

Mac on drugs. Who'da thunk it. Though I thought there would there would be more reprcussions... headache, being sick yadda... but you always have the right mix of whump and angst. It's cool. Peace.

Off to read the next chapter...