Wow, I was busy today, wasn't I? I normally don't have a marathon of writing two parts in a row, but I was on a roll. You...do know you have to suspend disbelief for this one, right?
Second Strike Part Three
Rated: PG
“Are you sure? Absolutely nothing wrong with the wiring in my house boat, huh?” MacGyver asked.
“Mr. MacGyver, I’ve been doing this for over 25 years,” the electrician said. “I’ve gotta tell you, the wiring in your home is sound. There is no risk of safety hazards at all. Everything should be in perfect working order.”
MacGyver glanced at his destroyed microwave, which now resembled something more out of a Surrealist art exhibit, melted, slanted, and distorted. “Then how do you explain my microwave?” He asked.
The electrician shrugged. “I dunno,” he said. “Honestly, anything could have happened. Maybe it’s the microwave more than the electricity in your house.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, too. I guess I’ll just have to take a look at it. Thanks.”
“You bet.”
MacGyver wrote him a check for what seemed like an exorbitant amount just for an inspection, but he was relieved to learn that at least his wiring was safe. After the electrician left, MacGyver turned on his stereo and played one of his more energetic rock and roll CDs to get him in the mood and keep him focused on dismantling his microwave to examine its parts. As he worked, his concentration intense, the volume knob on his stereo turned up on its own without his touch, raising the already raucous sound of the music to an unpleasantly loud pitch. The sudden, deafening blast of his music caused him to jump, nearly dropping one of the microwave parts he had in his hands. It reverberated embarrassingly through his small house boat, causing the walls to vibrate and probably disturbing everyone within fifty miles. Quickly, he rushed to turn it down, staring at his stereo in disbelief, trying to figure out what could have caused it to jump in volume without his manipulation of the knob. He watched it for a few minutes, waiting to see if it would automatically raise its volume again.
“Jeez Mac, what are you trying to do? Annoy the hell out of everyone in your neighborhood?” Pete asked, entering the house boat, holding his hands over his ears.
“Sorry, Pete,” MacGyver said. “I didn’t mean to have it so loud. It just…”
“It just what?”
MacGyver turned to face him, blushing and smiling. “Forget it,” he said. There was no way he was going to tell his friend that his stereo had somehow mysteriously raised volume on its own. He would think he was having some kind of nervous breakdown.
“Well, I came by to see how you were doing and how your electrical problems are faring,” Pete said.
“They’re fine. The electrician was just here. He said he couldn’t find anything wrong.”
“Well, that’s certainly strange.” Pete looked at the warped microwave. “
That was your microwave?” He asked. “Wow, you really weren’t exaggerating, were you? That thing is completely obliterated!”
“Yeah. The electrician said that there was probably a flaw with it, and I think he’s right.”
“What is that in your hand? Is that one of the parts from it?”
MacGyver looked down at the bulky object that resembled a large battery. “It’s the most important part, Pete,” he said. “Without it, the microwave couldn’t function. It’s called the magnetron. It generates the radio waves that cook the food. It’s like the heart of the appliance. If you cut it out, it’s useless.”
“So, do you see anything wrong with it?”
“Yeah, the wires connecting it to the rest of the appliance are completely fried. I can’t explain it. As I said, the thing was brand new.”
“At least you have a warranty for repairs,” Pete said, smiling, his eyes twinkling with mirth.
MacGyver looked at him, grinned, and shook his head. “I was going to try to repair it myself,” he said. “But, I think it’s beyond help, as you can tell.” He gestured toward the deformed oven.
Pete stared at it, impressed by the level of destruction caused to it. “That is pretty strange. I’m just glad you weren’t hurt—again.”
“Me too.”
“What about your hairdryer? Did you get it working?”
“No. Why don’t you see if you can? Test it for me.”
MacGyver handed him the hairdryer. Pete was about to ask why it wasn’t in his bathroom when he realized his mechanical friend had been working on it as well, using his kitchen as some kind of makeshift laboratory. He eyed him warily.
“Are you sure?” He asked.
“Hey, the electrician said everything’s okay.”
Pete shrugged. “All right,” he said, sighing and plugging it in. “I’ll try it.” He turned it on, and it ran smoothly. “Works great,” he said. He turned it back off and handed it to MacGyver.
“See, that’s what I don’t understand,” he said. “Why wouldn’t it turn on for me?”
He turned it on, and this time it worked for him as well, but it began to spark and arc much as his microwave had, and he dropped it instantly, releasing a startled yell. Pete grabbed the plug and yanked the cord out of the socket. Both of them stared at the smoking hairdryer in incomprehension.
“What just happened?” MacGyver asked. “Why didn’t it do that to you?”
“I don’t know. Are you all right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“And you’re sure this electrician inspected everything?”
“Thoroughly. Something else has to be happening, here. I just don’t know what it is.”
Pete began to make a correlation between the lightning strike and the bizarre electrical disturbances surrounding MacGyver as well, but he kept his theories to himself, knowing they sounded ridiculous and knowing that MacGyver would dismiss them outright.
“Look, I…I need to relax and just take a break from this whole thing for a minute,” MacGyver said, rubbing his face and his unruly hair in exhaustion. “What do you say about a protein shake to replenish our energy?”
Pete made a face in disgust.
“Oh, come on, it’s good for you. It’s strawberry. It’ll taste good, I promise.”
“I don’t know, Mac. What if your blender starts to act up on you, too?”
MacGyver looked at him, unsure if he was making a wisecrack or not. After watching him for a few minutes, he decided he was truly concerned.
“It’ll be okay, Pete,” he said. “I’m sure everything that’s been going on around here can be explained logically and rationally. Now come on, have a seat. It should be ready in a few minutes.”
Pete watched as MacGyver blended the ingredients, the blender whirring along just fine without any erratic shifts in behavior, working just as it should. He was relieved for his friend until he saw something he couldn’t believe he was looking at.
“Uh…MacGyver,” he said.
“It’s almost ready, Pete,” MacGyver said, busy with finishing the shake.
“The…blender is not plugged in.”
“What? That’s impossible! It has to be,” MacGyver said. “Maybe you’re just looking at another plug to my toaster or something.”
“No, I’m looking right at the cord that leads directly to your blender…and it’s not plugged in.”
MacGyver looked down and saw that Pete was right. He stepped away from the blender, watching it run without the assistance of electricity, shaking his head, unable to explain the phenomenon.
“That…can’t be happening,” he said. “How…?”
He moved further away from the blender as if it were possessed by a poltergeist, fear and disbelief in his eyes. Once he was a good distance from it, it stopped. He and Pete exchanged glances in amazement.
“It stopped working when you were far enough away from it, as if it was drawing energy from you,” Pete said.
“Now come on, Pete, you know I don’t believe in that stuff,” MacGyver said, raising his hands. As he did this, a pen nearby on the counter lifted and was thrown across the room. He hadn’t even touched it. Both men stared at it as it fell to the floor and rolled. “This can’t be happening,” he muttered. “It just can’t.”
“It is,” Pete said, staring at his friend with growing concern.
“Pete, what in the hell is happening to me?” MacGyver asked, agitation and panic rising in his voice. He made another sudden move and dishes clattered to the floor and shattered, again without him touching them.
“I don’t know, but I think we should try to find out. We have a parapsychologist working for the Foundation who specializes in the study of paranormal and unexplained phenomena.”
“No Pete, I don’t want to go through that. You know how I feel about that stuff. It isn’t real. It’s a pseudoscience,” he said. He glanced at his shades and they opened on their own.
“A pseudoscience, huh?” Pete asked.
“Anything could be causing these things to happen,” MacGyver said. “I’m certainly not moving them with my mind, if that’s what you’re implying.”
“Maybe you are,” Pete said. “You have to keep an open mind about these things, Mac.”
“Okay, I’ll prove that I’m not telekinetic, that there’s no possible way I could be manipulating anything with my mind. Watch.”
MacGyver concentrated on his salt and pepper shakers. He stretched his hands out and held them a few inches above them, waiting. For awhile, nothing happened.
“See? I told you. Something else has to be able to explain…” his words trailed away when he saw that they were floating in mid-air.” He closed his eyes and turned away, causing them to crash back down on the countertop. “No…no…this has to be a dream of some kind,” he said, burying his face in his hands.
“Mac, we need to get you checked out,” Pete said. “Something is definitely wrong with you. It seems not only are you causing these electrical disturbances, but you’re also causing things to move without touching them. I don’t care how scientifically you try to explain it. You can’t. This is beyond our understanding. That’s why I want Dr. Brock to take a look at you. She can determine if we’re looking at some kind of paranormal behavior, here.”
“My stereo…” MacGyver mumbled between his hands.
“What?”
MacGyver looked up at Pete, his bewildered expression revealing how frazzled he was. “The volume turned up on its own, without me touching it. That’s why it was so loud when you first got here. I wanted to tell you, but…it was just too weird…but given how everything else is acting around here…”
“It’s going to be all right, Mac,” Pete said. “We’re going to solve this. Just try to stay calm, all right?” He reached out and tried to place his hands on MacGyver’s shoulders, but he received a painful, hot shock. He could see the electricity flow around him in white sparks, and then it was gone. “Ahhh!”
“Pete, what’s wrong? What did I do?”
“I touched you…you shocked me.”
“Let me see it.”
Pete showed him his hands. They were clearly burned, beet red as if he had touched a hot pan straight from the oven without using mitts to protect his skin.
“Oh my God,” he said. “Let me get some ointment for that…”
“No, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. They’re just small burns.”
“Pete, I hurt you!” MacGyver said, tears in his eyes. More electricity surged around him, but he didn’t feel it. Pete saw it, staring at it in fascination.
“Mac, settle down! There’s a field of energy surrounding you, and when you get upset it only seems to get worse.”
MacGyver reached out his hands and saw small bolts of electricity flowing from the tips of his long fingers. “What…what’s happening? Pete?” He asked, frightened.
“I don’t know, but we’d better try to learn something about it before you inadvertently become more destructive,” Pete said. “Let me take you to see Dr. Brock. Please.”
MacGyver nodded, surrendering. Pete was right. He couldn’t explain what was happening to him. The least he could do was see if someone else could.
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
