Phoenix Field Agent
Posts: 1,889
Joined: 11 Jan 2006
Gender: Female
Country: USA
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Season: season 3
Episode:Passages
Vehicle: Jeep
Jacket: Black leather
House: House boat
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Don’t Forget Part Three
Rated: PG
Days later, MacGyver and Pete took a boating trip out in the marina, enjoying the placid, sparkling water and the warmth of the sunshine. The tempestuous emotions raging inside MacGyver’s recovering brain had subsided, and he was once again as calm as the surface of the water they were floating on, closing his eyes to feel the gentle breezes and smiling. Pete watched him, glad to see him returning back to his usual pleasant demeanor.
“How’s your head?” He asked.
MacGyver probed his bandaged forehead gingerly with the tips of his fingers. “It’s still sore sometimes. I get headaches frequently, but apparently that’s normal. The stitches itch and pull, but the doc says I’ll be getting them out soon,” he said.
“You were very fortunate,” Pete said. “I don’t suppose you’ll be returning to the ice anytime soon.”
“Aw, come on, Pete, a little knock to the head isn’t going to stop me.”
“That’s what worries me.”
The two men shared a chuckle. They were silent for awhile, admiring the beautiful weather. It was one of those days where the sky was cloudless and a deep, vivid blue, the brightness of the sun casting everything into an almost ethereal clarity and perfection, leaving the landscape sharply defined, even when viewing objects in the distance.
“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you,” Pete said. “There was a young man that called the ambulance for you—a fellow hockey player…Russ was his name. Do you know him?”
“Russ Finley? Sure, I play hockey with him all the time,” MacGyver said.
“Well, he was there at the hospital when you were first brought in, but then he just disappeared, even though he said he would come back to see you. He was behaving strangely.”
“He must’ve been scared. I’m sure he’d never seen so much gore and carnage, even from a hockey injury.” MacGyver grinned.
“Maybe he’s the one who started the fight, and he felt too ashamed to face you when you regained consciousness.”
“I don’t remember the fight, Pete. Besides, even if he did engage in some roughhousing, what happened was an accident. I can forgive him. I’d actually like to hear from him, you know, and learn his version of the events. Even if that’s all I can’t remember from this blow to the head, it still vexes me.”
Pete had to admit it vexed him, too, although he wasn’t sure why. “Maybe you should give him a call,” he said.
“Yeah, maybe I should. I have a contact list for all the players, you know, in case they need another man on their team. I’ll see if I can get in touch with him. I’d hate for him to blame himself for what happened.”
***
MacGyver had never met Russ outside of the rink. When he called the young man, he seemed surprised, almost frightened at first, but then when he heard MacGyver’s reassuring voice he relaxed and agreed to meet him at the local sports bar. The venue wasn’t MacGyver’s usual choice, but while waiting for Russ he absorbed himself in a hockey game showing on one of the numerous televisions in the bar, impressed with the professional level of sportsmanship and athleticism being displayed, the way the players glided effortlessly across the ice, almost as if they could take flight. It was what he always loved about the sport—the freedom to fly across the ice, the surroundings becoming a blur, distant and insignificant, allowing him to forget anything that might be troubling him. Now, he forgot one small moment from his previous time on the ice, and he was counting on Russ to fill in the blanks. He trusted the young man to be honest with him. He fiddled with the straw to his iced tea, not interested in it but feeling he had to order something in order to be a proper patron.
“Hon, are you sure you don’t want something stronger?” The waitress asked. She had frizzy red hair and looked like her life was a constant, chaotic party once her shift was over.
MacGyver looked up at her and smiled. “I think the caffeine in this is going to be strong enough for me, thanks,” he said.
Normally, the waitress would have walked away from him, rolling her eyes, figuring any man who didn’t drink in a bar had deficient amounts of testosterone, but she found herself grinning slightly instead. She liked his easy, casual manner and his natural good looks. That he didn’t apologize for not imbibing alcohol and made it seem that drinking iced tea was just as appropriate for the situation also impressed her and made her respect him. He was quirky yet confident, comfortable with himself and his choice, and knew exactly what he was doing.
“All right,” she said. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Well, I have a friend coming in soon. I’m sure he’ll want to order something.”
As if on cue, Russ entered, smiling shyly when he saw MacGyver and then diverting his eyes from him after making the initial eye contact as if he clearly was feeling guilty, like a naughty child reluctantly preparing to be scolded and punished. At first, MacGyver didn’t recognize him without his helmet and jersey. Seeing him out of the context of the rink threw him for a moment. He seemed smaller, somehow, and less self-assured than he was when on the ice.
“I’ll…have a beer,” he said anxiously to the waitress, fidgeting, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
“Coming right up,” she said, smiling at him then at MacGyver again, whose reputation had once again risen in her estimation. Perhaps he was going to serve as his friend’s designated driver.
Once she was gone, Russ sat down, still refusing to look directly at MacGyver.
“It’s all right, Russ, settle down,” MacGyver said. “I’m not mad at you. I just want to know what happened.”
“I could have killed you,” he said. “I feel awful.”
“Well, it takes a lot more than that to kill a person,” MacGyver said. “All that happened was I got clonked in the head. I’m just a little unclear on the details leading up to it, that’s all.”
Russ shifted his lowered gaze toward MacGyver at last. “You…don’t remember what happened at all?” He asked.
“Not at all. All I know is we were playing, and then I awoke in the hospital.”
“Wow. I didn’t know it would cause so much damage. Man, I’m sorry.”
“What do you have to be sorry for? Did you start the fight?”
Russ licked his lips nervously.
“Well, did you Russ?”
“No, I swear,” he said. “I did…participate in it, though. It was stupid, I know, and unsportsmanlike. I know you wouldn’t approve. Even though you play with us, I always feel that you’re more like our coach or mentor, you know? I didn’t mean to let you down, and then I hurt you…”
“Yes, but how? It was accidental, right?”
The waitress served Russ his beer, grinned slyly at MacGyver again, and then left.
“Of course it was an accident!” Russ shouted, alerting the attention of several people in the bar. Embarrassed when he saw several pairs of eyes staring at him, he lowered his voice. “There was a fight between me and several of the other guys. You tried to stop it, and you got smacked in the head. That’s all that happened.”
MacGyver realized that sounded about right. Despite his better judgment, he always intervened when there was trouble, often suffering the consequences. He watched as Russ greedily sipped his beer, as if the welcome oblivion of eventual intoxication would allow him some reprieve. He was sweating profusely and looked pale and exhausted, as if he hadn’t slept in days.
“Are you sure that’s all that’s bothering you?” MacGyver asked, watching his peculiar uneasiness. “I mean, if that’s all that happened, why do you look so worried? I told you, I’m not mad at you.”
“I know…I know…” Russ said, almost as if chanting. He continued to drink his beer, his sips growing progressively larger and longer. He bounced his leg up and down.
“Russ…talk to me. Tell me what’s on your mind. Something else is going on that has nothing to do with the fight and my injury, isn’t it? What is it?”
“What?” Russ asked, laughing. “No, nothing else is wrong…what…what would make you think that?”
“Well, for one thing, you’re pretty jumpy.”
“I am?” Russ asked, laughing again. He glanced at his watch. “Oh. Well, I’m late. I’m late for…something.”
“That’s a pretty flimsy excuse.”
“No! It’s true, Mac. I…I’ve gotta go. Seriously. I came here to talk to you, but now…now I’m late. I’ll see you later.”
MacGyver watched him as he practically leapt out of his seat, slapping down more money than was needed for his beer, not even taking the time to count it. He tried to leave, but MacGyver grabbed his arm to stop him, looking up into his shifty, uncertain eyes, knowing there was clearly something wrong, something he was desperately trying to hide from him. He knew something else and he wasn’t telling him.
“You know you can tell me anything, Russ,” he said.
“I…I know that, but there’s nothing to tell you, really,” Russ said, yanking his arm away from MacGyver’s grasp. “I’ll see you later.”
“Okay.”
As Russ sprinted out of the bar, he left MacGyver with many unanswered questions. This was the second time he had made a quick exit, the first time was at the hospital according to Pete. Russ had always been quiet and somewhat bashful and sensitive. Only on the ice did he become assertive. Still, it didn’t explain his suspicious behavior. While expressing concern for his injuries would have made him feel somewhat upset, it wouldn’t have been to the extremes MacGyver saw in him. He had looked absolutely terrified, leaving him at a loss as to explain why.
***
MacGyver dreamed again. This time, he tried to listen to the conversation between the mysterious figures, tried to see if he could identify them. The harder he tried, the more distant they became, their voices fading. The Phoenix Foundation building grew more prominent as the figures vanished. For a moment, it looked as it always did, standing solidly like a sentry, towering over and carefully watching the activity below. Then, all its projected strength and authority was demolished in mere seconds as it exploded.
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
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