I took some vacation time today because of more bad weather (in April--yeesh
). Oh well, that means more story! Enjoy!
Unseen Part Two
Rated: PG
Several days later… Pete rolled MacGyver’s wheelchair into the front entrance of his houseboat, taking great care not to run it into anything as he maneuvered it, wanting to make the ride not as jarring and as smooth and comfortable as possible for his injured friend as he was welcomed back from the sterile confines of the hospital to the more familiar and relaxing surroundings of his own home. Despite knowing that his friend would continue to make progress and that he was not permanently disabled, the doctor giving him crutches and eventually a cane to support his badly fractured leg as it continued through the stages of healing, Pete felt tremendous sympathy for how broken and damaged MacGyver still looked, his right leg bound in a plaster cast and elevated, his left arm in a sling, his cracked and bruised ribs strapped, a bandage covering part of his forehead. When he was finished wheeling him into a good position near his sofa in the living room, he stopped the chair, out of breath, surprised by how much effort it required to move the wheelchair, finding it heavier and more cumbersome than he expected. He looked at MacGyver and saw that his breathing was labored as well, most likely from the strain being placed on his cracked ribs. His complexion was pale and he looked groggy and dazed from the pain medication, his eyes glassy and not completely focused.
“Do you need anything?” He asked.
“Just some ice water for now would be fine, Pete, thanks,” MacGyver said weakly.
“All right. Coming right up,” Pete said, smiling affectionately.
As he busied himself in the kitchen finding a glass and filling it with ice and tap water, he watched MacGyver, noticing that he was staring blankly, lost in thought. Returning from the kitchen, he gently handed the glass to MacGyver’s good hand, helping him hold onto it, making sure it was steady before completely releasing his grip. This action seemed to revive his friend, the faraway expression gone from his disturbingly dark eyes.
“Did you want another pain pill?” He asked.
“No thanks, I’m fine for now,” MacGyver said, his voice sounding tired. He looked up at Pete with pleading eyes. “You don’t have to do any of this, you know,” he said. “I mean…I appreciate it, of course, but I can take care of myself.”
It almost amused Pete to hear how stubborn and strong-willed his friend was, denying he needed any help even when he was almost completely immobilized.
“Humor me then, all right? Look Mac, I’m just concerned for your well-being, that’s all. I’ll look in after you from time to time to see if you need anything, but other than that I promise you won’t even know I’m here. I won’t hover, I swear. Just rest, and I’ll take care of things. Okay?”
MacGyver nodded, showing he understood.
“Now, are you sure you don’t need anything else?”
“Pete,” MacGyver groaned, irritation showing on his face in the form of a frown. “Just sit down, willya?”
“I thought you didn’t want my company right now.”
MacGyver smiled slightly. “You can stay for awhile…until I…fall asleep…” he yawned deeply.
Pete grinned. “All right,” he said, sitting on the sofa beside him. “I accept your invitation.” He knew MacGyver depended on him more than he cared to admit. “So, how are you feeling? Any improvements?”
“Still tired…sore…the painkillers make me dizzy.”
Pete smiled at him in sympathy. “It will get better, you know,” he said. “You will recover. It’s only a matter of time.”
“I know,” MacGyver said, sipping on his icewater. He grinned at Pete. “I’ve had many broken bones before, so I have experience. It just never gets any easier, and I’m definitely not looking forward to the grueling physical therapy sessions.” He winced as if he were actually undergoing one at the present moment.
“You won’t have to do them alone,” Pete said. “I’ll be right there with you.”
“I know you will. Thank you.”
“I’m just glad and relieved you’re alive after that ordeal, you can’t imagine. I guess that’s the best outcome and consolation to come out of this accident. I just wish that the careless driver who hit you was in custody right now. The police have been unsuccessful in finding him so far.”
“Well, they’ll find him soon I’m sure,” MacGyver said, sipping more water. The glass was sweaty with condensation, and it began to slip from his hand. He held it up to Pete, indicating he wanted him to take it from him.
“Oh, here,” Pete said, taking his cue and placing the half drunk glass of water on the coffee table in front of him.
Both men were silent for awhile, and Pete could tell that MacGyver was slowly drifting away into sleep, leaning back in his wheelchair, his head dipping backward, his eyes closing, his mouth half-open as he struggled to breathe through cracked, strapped ribs. He remembered the woman he mentioned while lying sedated in the hospital, only half-conscious at the time. Before he lost him to sleep, he decided to bring her up to see what his reaction would be, if he would remember.
“MacGyver, there’s something I have to know,” he said.
“What’s that, Pete?” MacGyver asked, his voice sounding distant and faint.
“When you were in the hospital…you said something about a woman.”
“Woman…” MacGyver searched his hazy mind, trying to remember. Gradually, the image of the angelic beauty returned to his memory, standing over him as a calming presence. “Yeah…” his eyes opened more fully as he remembered, and he looked at Pete. “Right after the accident, I saw her. She was speaking my name as if she knew me, but I’d never seen her before. She stayed with me until the paramedics arrived. I asked for help, and it was as if she listened to me. I…I don’t know how. It sounds absurd, I know. I don’t believe in things like that, but…she was there, Pete. I swear. I don’t know how. I can’t explain it.”
“What did she look like?”
“Long blonde hair, fair-skinned, green eyes…very beautiful, almost exquisite…”
He yawned and his head dropped back again, his eyes slowly closing.
“You get some rest, huh?” Pete said. “Maybe I can ask around, find out if anyone else knows her or saw her at the scene of the accident. There has to be some logical explanation to account for this somehow.”
“But…how did she know me? I’d never seen her before. How…” he moaned softly and closed his eyes, unable to remain awake any longer, the exhaustion and pain from his injuries combined with the medication overtaking him.
Pete smiled at him. “It’ll be all right,” he whispered. “I’ll help you find out who she is. We’ll solve this somehow.”
***
Using his connections, Pete was able to arrange two interviews—one with one of the paramedics, and one with the driver who found MacGyver. Both were obliging, willing to answer his questions. He met with the paramedic first outside the hospital near an ambulance.
“I’m glad to hear your friend is doing fine, Mr. Thornton,” he said, the name on his uniform reading “Terry.” He was a small, slender, spry young man with dark curly hair. “He was pretty banged up when we found him—multiple fractures, head trauma…he’s fortunate to have survived. Collisions between motorcyclists and cars, especially high speed impacts such as this one appeared to be, rarely end well because the motorcyclist is in a much more vulnerable position and less protected. They’re usually fatal. I’ve seen more motorcycle accidents than I care to remember, most of them ending badly, killing the rider.”
“I know,” Pete said, sighing.
“So, what’s this about? Why did you need to see me?”
“At the scene of the accident, MacGyver recalled seeing a woman. She seemed to know his name and was trying to reassure him. Did you see anyone present at the scene like that, talking to him?”
Terry shook his head and frowned, trying to remember. “Not that I’m aware of,” he said. “As you can understand, in an emergency situation such as that, we have to move quickly and don’t have time to take in a lot of details beyond assessing the condition of the patient. What did she look like?”
“Long blonde hair, fair-skinned, green eyes…do you have any women on your staff? Perhaps MacGyver saw one of them.”
“Let’s see…Tina was with me that day, as was Heather. Neither of them fit your description, though.”
“I see. Well, thank you for your time.”
“It sounds to me like he was hallucinating,” Terry said. “It’s not uncommon for severely injured or dying patients to see unusual things. What it means, I’m not sure. I mean, I’m no expert.”
“I’m not, either,” Pete said. “I’m not sure any of us is qualified to judge. Still, I’d like to know.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.”
“No, you were fine. Thanks.”
“I hope you find the answers you need, Mr. Thornton.”
“So do I.”
Next, Pete met with the driver who found MacGyver at a local, nearby coffee shop. He hoped the pleasant, non-threatening atmosphere would make the man feel comfortable about answering his questions, so that he wouldn’t feel as if he were being interrogated. He just wanted a casual, relaxed conversation. The friendly, middle-aged man who sat across from him seemed open and amenable to the idea, ready to answer any questions he had, very cooperative.
“I thought he was dead when I found him,” he said, a horrified expression on his face as he remembered that day. “He just looked awful, his body all twisted and bent out of shape, blood everywhere…I knew I had to call for help, so I did. It was the natural thing to do in that situation. I didn’t even really hesitate or think about it at all. I just did what had to be done.”
“It’s a shame the driver who hit him didn’t feel the same way,” Pete said in anger and disgust, stirring creamer in his coffee. “He just sped off guiltily, not even checking to see if he would be all right.”
“Yeah I know,” the man said, taking a bite of a frosted crème donut he had ordered. “The police told me when they interviewed me to get my side of the story that it appeared to be a hit and run. I just can’t believe the cowardice of some people, you know?”
“Well, MacGyver was fortunate that someone decent like you came along and did the right thing. What was your name again?”
“Ed,” the man said, smiling. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Thornton.”
“Likewise.”
“So, what’s this all about? What did you want to ask me?”
“Did you have any passengers with you at the time?”
“Passengers? No, I was alone. Why?”
“MacGyver said he saw someone shortly after the accident. A young woman. She spoke to him as if she knew him, but he claims he never saw her before, and she doesn’t sound familiar to me, either. The paramedics said there was no one nearby who fit that description, even among their team.”
Ed picked up some crumbs from the donut with his finger along with some icing and licked it. He stared contemplatively out the window for a moment before returning his ruminative gaze back to Pete.
“Let me tell you something, Mr. Thornton,” he said, his expression turning serious, no longer smiling as he had when they first met. “I had a heart attack a few years ago. It was serious enough to land me in the hospital, and I almost died. Well, anyway, as I was dying, I saw…something. I can’t explain it exactly. Some vision. It was a beautiful young woman, as you described. She spoke my name, and instantly I felt at ease, as if what I was going through wouldn’t turn out to be so bad, after all. She was surrounded in this bright white light, and she floated over me. Now, I never considered myself a spiritual or religious man, but I swear I was looking at an angel, like what they always describe on those TV shows and in the magazines. I know it sounds silly, ridiculous really, but I know what I saw, and it haunts me to this day. That could be what your friend saw.”
“Maybe,” Pete said. “I just don’t know.”
“I don’t, either,” Ed said, shrugging. “I don’t think any of us do.”
“There’s also a chance this so-called ‘angel’ could be a hallucination, the brain’s way of helping us make sense of what’s happening.”
“I don’t know,” Ed said, taking another bite of his donut. “Like I said, I know what I saw, and that’s all. I can’t explain it.”
“I can’t, either,” Pete said, sighing. “It seems the more I search for answers, the less I find and the more confusing it gets.”
“Believe me, I know how that goes,” Ed said, laughing slightly. “But you’ll figure something out, Mr. Thornton. If you don’t, at least you know something, no matter what it is, was looking out for your friend that day.”
***
The beach was dark, shrouded in a blue mist. MacGyver could vaguely hear the waves as they crashed ashore. Ahead of him stood a cloaked figure he could barely see in the surrounding fog and darkness. It began to move farther away, and he decided to follow it, finding himself able to walk, all his limbs healed and functioning, unencumbered by plaster casts, his pain gone. That he could move freely surprised him, as a part of him remembered he was badly injured, but for some reason he did not question his restored mobility. The only desire he had now was to pursue this mysterious figure, determined to reach it, to reveal its identity. Something about this figure suggested to him that it had the answers, that it knew something valuable that he did not but wished to obtain. It moved faster, eluding him, and he began running, his footing uneven on the shifting sand, causing him to stumble several times before regaining his stability and balance.
“Wait!” he called out, panting from running. “Please!”
The figure stopped. MacGyver ran to catch up to it. As he approached, the figure removed the hood of the cloak, uncovering the beautiful woman he had seen after his accident. She stared at him for a long time, saying nothing.
“Who are you?” MacGyver asked her. “What do you want?”
Smiling enigmatically, the woman pressed her index finger to her lips.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
