Chapter Thirty Three

When you think you are going to die, say to yourself, “So much the better! I am about to behold the Adorable!” - Abbe de Tourville

Chapter Thirty Three

After his epiphany while in bed with Tiffani with an i and what’s her name with the perfect 26 Cs, James had gotten out of bed as soon as he could politely do so (after two more tumbles) and threw everyone out of his house.

“Party’s over! You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here!” he repeated as he walked through his house.

Tiffani with an i was the last to leave. He saw her to the door.

“Good luck getting your life back on track,” she said.

“Thank you for pointing out I was going the wrong way,” James said.

Tiffani kissed him on the cheek, and was gone.

James shut the door, locked it, and hustled over to the phone. He quickly dialed it, and waited for someone to answer.

“I need a ticket to Oregon, as soon as possible.”

He was able to get a ticket for a flight leaving in three hours, which gave him exactly enough time to stuff his toothbrush, a couple of t-shirts and a spare pair of jeans into his backback and head for the airport.

Parking was something of a hassle, but James made it inside and on to the plane with relatively little difficulty. The flight was quick, but cramped. James was stuck sitting in a middle seat in coach, in between a college football fan and a cranky older woman who was wearing enough perfume to disguise the odor of a goat.

He did his best to avoid breathing and discussing football. As such, he arrived in Portland at five in the afternoon with an incredible headache.

At the airport, he rented a car. All that was available to rent was a Chevrolet Aveo, so that’s what he rented. There was barely enough room inside for him and his backpack, but it would have to do. He needed to get to Gold Beach.

The Aveo proved to be a horrible car, at least compared to what he was used to. It was maneuverable, of course, but had no power to speak of and passing tractor trailers made James fear for his life.

He arrived in Gold Beach just after midnight. He was happy to find a motel which had a room to rent. After checking in, he went straight to his room and tried to call Jill.

“We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is not available,” is what the automated operator told him.

“Shit!” James said. The phone lines must be down. Honestly, the lines were down more often than they were up at Jill’s compound along the Rogue river. It was difficult for the linemen to get out there, for one thing, and the other problem was that the linemen just weren’t in that much of a hurry to get out there even if the line was broken in an easily accessible spot.

He was going to have to try and catch a lift with a fisherman in the morning, or rent a boat.

At six o’clock the next morning, James was already down at the docks, hoping to find a boater who was planning to head up the Rogue. He had no luck, so at eight o’clock he was waiting outside the boat rental office when the old man who ran the place showed up.

“Give me fifteen minutes, and I’ll be with you,” the old man said as he unlocked the door, slipped inside, and locked the door again. James saw him turn on the lights, set out the day’s newspaper, and then wander in to the back room. He came out again, fifteen minutes later. The old man went to the front door, unlocked and opened it, and said, “Well, come on in,” to James. He walked back behind his counter and waited for James there.

“Are you looking to hire a guide, or do you just want a boat?”

“Just the boat, please,” James said.

“Good thing. My guide up and moved to Newport yesterday. Said something about making more money as a guide on the ocean taking executives out for three hours to catch marlins or whatever it is they want to catch. I asked him where the fun in that was. He said fun didn’t make his truck payments.”

“That’s too bad,” James said, not sure what else to add.

“Well, it’s no big deal. There are ten more guys here in town that need a job to do during the day before their shift at one of the restaurants. Hell, between you and me, I expect you could be a guide, and I’ve never seen you in my life. If you can drive a boat and spin some stories about the river while you putter from spot to spot to try fishing, well, you’ll be a fine guide.”

James laughed and said, “I’m afraid I’m not much for spinning stories.”

The old man looked up at him, “yeah, and you don’t look to me like you’ve fished a day in your life. So you need a boat, huh?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Well, I rent to fisherman and fishermen, mostly. If you aren’t going to fish,” here he paused and eyed James’s khaki slacks and white oxford shirt, “what are you going to do with my boat?”

“Oh. Well, I just want to explore the river a bit,” James said.

“Well, nothing wrong with that, I suppose.” The old man paused again, then said, “I got a boat for you. $120 gets you the boat, motor, gas, life vests, seat cushions and oars for the day. Fill this out, and then let’s head down to the dock.”

He handed James a clipboard with a form on it. The form said James would agreed to pay for any damage to the boat or motor, and was liable for any damage he caused on the river. He paid for the rental with his mastercard, and the proprietor led James out the back door of the office and down to the docks. They stopped at the first boat, a spartan, twelve foot aluminum boat with a nine horsepower motor and a fiberglass seat for the pilot.

“It’s got an electric starter, and there’s a pull-starter backup. You can float in two feet of water, but I’d keep to the deeper areas as much as possible if I were you. Keep an eye out for kayaks, canoes and jet boats, and stay out of their way. Don’t make a wake when you’re passing other boaters, by the way. We close at five in the afternoon, so plan on being back by then. Other than that, have fun and stay out of trouble.”

“Great, thanks!” James said. He tossed his backpack into the boat, and climbed in. He started the motor, untied and pushed away from the dock. Five minutes later, the dock was out of sight and he was on his way up the river.

As he powered up the river, he was amazed at the sheer beauty of the wilderness around him. He regretted not paying closer attention on the previous trips to Jill’s place. Of course, most of those trips had been by helicopter, so the view was significantly different.

He passed a number of canoeists heading downstream, whom he waved to as he passed. He also waved to a number of fishermen, who looked at him somewhat quizzically as he passed by in his boat with no baseball cap and no fishing gear.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” he called to them.

“Sure is!” they’d call back, and resume what they were doing.

After about three hours, he reached Jill’s dock. He recognized her boat, and pulled his boat up to the dock just in front of hers. He tied up as quickly as he could and shut down the motor.

James grabbed his backpack and climbed out of the boat. He hoped Jill would be happy to see him, and also that she would be willing to feed him, since he was quite hungry. After a few seconds, he reached the stairs that led up to her home, and started climbing.

A couple minutes later, he reached the top, sweaty, out of breath. He was also, to his great surprise, surrounded by ninjas.

“Oh, hi guys,” James said. “Is Jill home?”

The ninjas moved in closer, without saying anything. James noticed they had blue eyes. Two ninjas he hadn’t noticed came up behind him and grabbed him.

“You,” one of them said in a low whisper, “are not invited or expected.”

James would have replied, but one of them hit him over the head with a club then, and he fell unconscious. One of the ninjas spoke into a radio, and moments later Jill appeared to see who her ninjas had caught.

She looked at James briefly, then said, “You know what to do,” to the ninja who had radioed her. Four of the ninjas took James to the hangar where Jill’s helicopter was waiting. Thirty minutes later two ninjas and James were in the air, heading east.

James came to in the air over eastern Oregon, just as they were coming in to land for fuel.

“What the hell? Hey! Where am I? Where are you taking me?”

One of the ninjas held up a taser before James, and put his finger over his lips.

“OK, then,” James said.

They landed and fueled the helicopter. In another fifteen minutes they were flying east once more.

“Look, would you please tell me where you’re taking me?” James said. The ninjas ignored him.

After a couple of hours, they landed next to a crossroads just outside of Nampa, Idaho. James, of course, had absolutely no idea where he was. One of the ninjas threw his door open, and pulled James out of the helicopter. He marched James into the middle of the crossroads, and handed him a twenty dollar bill and a slip of paper.

James looked at the slip of paper and saw it was a coupon. For the Sizzler.

“Do they even have the Sizzler around here?” James asked the ninja, who turned away without answering and walked back to the helicopter. “Hey, wait!” James shouted.

The ninja paused, and turned to face James.

“Will you just tell her I’m sorry?”

The ninja waited a moment, then nodded. He walked the rest of the way to the helicopter, got back in, and they flew away, leaving James in the middle of nowhere.

“Well, that didn’t go as planned,” James said to himself. Then, as he walked to the side of the road, he thought of something.

“I hope they’ll return the boat, too.”