Chapter 4

I had no particular agenda, and I really had little idea where I would be stopping for each night. My credit card limit was nearly astronomical, and Marsha was going to keep my bills paid while I was gone. It was in Santa Fe, I think, that I traded in my old SUV and bought a brand Ford Mustang convertible, and that was definitely a whole lot more fun to drive. I tried very hard to avoid thinking about much of anything and was largely successful. I drove into California and decided quickly that there was nothing whatsoever I liked about LA so I headed up north. I ended up spending nearly a month at a bed and breakfast hotel that I adored in Half Moon Bay, between Santa Cruz and San Francisco, and I spent the days taking very long walks along the coast or in the nearby redwood forests. Some days I would cruise through Silicon Valley and I secretly did the visitor tours of all of the famous computer tech companies. On other days I'd head into San Francisco or even Marin or Napa counties and play tourist there.

One day, just for fun, I stopped into a big local computer gaming shop in San Mateo and found the place in a total uproar. Apparently it was the launch day for "Blackwood" and the store sold out of its initial two hundred copies of the game in less than an hour. The store was crowded with kids and even adults my age and older raving about the game and its unique game play elements. This gave me the chance to secretly talk to my fans a little bit incognito to find what they liked and, more importantly, what they felt the game still lacked and they wanted to see in the future. My questions probably got too probing, and after awhile I heard someone say, "They, Isn't that Warren Black?" followed by a, "Holy Shit, I think it is." It was time to run, and I left in a hurry, pealing out of the parking lot burning rubber.

A new chapter in the bizarre mythology of Warren Black had begun. Internet sightings of me, like Elvis or Bigfoot, started appearing all over the place as the word got out and it was confirmed in all of the major computer gaming magazines that the crazed and eccentric genius was 'on a sabbatical road tour of the country'. I definitely didn't dare set foot in any more computer stores; it was once again just like I was just a small kid trying to wearing my dads oversized clothes.

Summer came and went, and so did most of the fall. I was still driving around the country pretty much aimlessly, and was just bouncing now among the three coasts, but trying to avoid Texas as much as possible. I visited St. Louis, New Orleans, Atlanta and all the cities of the east coast up to the very tip of Maine. Now I was meandering westwards again, crossing over the cascades and I had stopped for the night in Medford, Oregon.

I had been calling Marsha about once a week to check up on things, and her hints that she'd like to see me back home 'yesterday' were beginning to tell on me. I was rested, leaner and trim, and even tanned a bit, but I seemingly hadn't resolved any of my personal issues yet. I still wasn't in the mood just yet to go back to work, and I was beginning to wonder if I really ever would be.

My map showed that the most direct way to the coast was a road that hit Hwy 101 near Gold Beach, and not knowing any better, I took it, probably not ten minutes before the local Grants Pass Sheriff's department closed off the road for the winter. The road was bad as it wound through the Coastal Mountains of Southern Oregon, and soon became worse. Now I wished I had my old 4WD SUV back. Pretty soon I realized that this was really just a seasonal logging road through the mountains, unpaved and probably utterly impassable in bad weather, which looked like it was soon on the way.

If the road was bad dry, it became a nightmare when wet. There were no guardrails and I soon didn't do much more than a crawl down parts of the road for fear that I would slip and skid right straight over the edge, sometimes 1000' or more down. When it got dark I didn't dare drive at all, and just stopped there in the middle of the road and slept in the car until the next soggy morning. Suddenly my adventure was a whole lot less fun, and going home was starting to sound pretty good. The rain continued nonstop and there were even hints that ice and maybe next snow would soon follow. I somehow managed to make it about halfway though the Coastal Range when I came into a small town in a central river valley.

My arrival was a wonder and a miracle to everyone, because they had heard that the road had been already closed for the winter, and not one of them on a bet would have driven it even in summer in a two-wheel-drive convertible! I think I became something of a local legend, but I was told repeatedly that I was probably insane for even taking this road in the first place. For one night though, my money was no good in the local tavern, and nearly everyone in the town of about two hundred folks showed up at one time or another to see 'the lucky idiot' that survived the winter drive from Grant's Pass. Apparently most unprepared drivers don't.

By morning I realized I was stuck here for the duration of winter. It was now snowing, and the road would be utterly impassable until at least March, possibly even April. My Mustang was put up on blocks near the tavern, and as far as I know it is still sitting there today.

The sleeping arrangements were simple. There were a lot of summer cabins in the area for folks who came up for the excellent hunting and fishing, and most of these were now empty, and would remain so throughout the winter. I had no problem renting one of these vacant cabins a few minutes walk from town and was delighted to meet its caretaker, Gloria.

Gloria was a bit younger than me, maybe about 30 or so, and lived in the next cabin up the hill trail from mine. She was an outdoorsy sort of gal, a hunting guide in season and in the winter earned a good living tending after the vacant cabins of the 'summer people', and in her spare time, was a writer working on a novel. She was probably getting a good split of my rent money as well. She was not a classic beauty, or at least didn't give much of a hoot if she had dirt on her hands and she never ever wore any makeup. She did look good in flannel, with a comfortable sized butt and large sized breasts that didn't seem to be encumbered by any bra but still were winning the fight against gravity.

She showed me around the cabin, which was a good sized one that had a huge master bedroom, a big kitchen that one could cook an entire deer in, fireplaces in every room and even a big hot tub on an outdoors fenced patio outside the master bedroom. Gloria joked that she usually spent most winters in this hot tub, as it was the largest one she knew of in the valley. Being neighborly, I told her she was welcome to use it any time she wanted.

Last, she showed me the underground wine cellar, that I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it. There must have been 10,000 bottles inside, at least. The owner, she said with some amusement, was a hot shot Hollywood producer with an unhealthy fondness for underaged girls. He now spent most of his time nowadays in Europe where he could better indulge his tastes, and I was invited to feel no guilt in drinking up 'the 'bastards stock'. I wasn't much of a drinker, but I gave it a good shot that winter and did get an excellent education in appreciating good wines.

I invited Gloria to dinner and she accepted. There was some stuff in the freezer and a few boxes and cans in the pantry, but not a lot, and I made two trips to the local shop to buy whatever looked good and some staples that I would use all winter. Venison and fish, I was told, should be constantly available all winter, but for anything fresh I was encouraged to buy it now because no further groceries would be coming in until spring, and so I did. I was also encouraged to make all of my necessary phone calls now, because sooner or later a storm was going to knock down some of the phone wires up in the mountain passes and they might not get fixed again until spring.

Good idea. I called Marsha to tell her where I was and what sort of mess I had gotten myself into. We had a good laugh and she filled me in on the latest news. The girls were doing fine, and Olivia had almost forgiven me for not being home for her sixteenth birthday, or Ashley's, too, for that matter. Both were now dating and had spent most of their summer nude sunbathing on the beach and flirting with boys, to the slight distress of both of their mother's. The girls had known the 'facts of life' for a good many years and had been on the pill for at least the last two, and were under strict orders that 'if they can't be good, then at least be safe.'

She had one another more serious topic, but thought it could wait until I got home. However, since I reminded her that was likely to be at least four months or longer in the future, she fessed up.

Her other issue was more of an FYI, that Becky was regularly attending the weekend parties hosted by our swinging corporate management foursome, and had met a very nice local gentleman, and there were rumors it could be 'serious'. I would have expected this sort of news to shock me and put me back into an emotional panic, but for some reason it just didn't. Instead there was almost a feeling of relief, I think.

I finished off our conversation by telling Marsha about my amusing landlady Gloria and her fetish for flannel and long wintery hot tub soakings. Marsha didn't find it quite as funny, saying that it just made her crazy with sexual frustration with everyone fucking like bunnies around her. I hinted that maybe I could do something about that after I got home and got a firm 'I hope so!' in reply. She told me everyone around her was getting laid except for her, and she started to mutter about some 'nude quality time on the beach herself chasing down some young hot things, ' or borrowing a few of her 'daughters boyfriends once Ashley and Olivia were done with them'.

We laughed and said goodbye, and I'm almost certain I heard an "I love you" before she hung up the phone.

There wasn't much else to say about my four month long 'lost weekend' in my snowy cabin in the wilds of Oregon. Needless to say Gloria showed no hesitation in stripping nude in front of me and enticing me to join her for a long hot tub soak, which we ended hours later together in the big oversized bed. After that we were lovers almost daily for the rest of the winter. We had nearly nothing in common and both of us were smart enough to recognize from the start that this was 'just fun' and nothing at all serious. My lovemaking skills, which had never been highly trained to begin with and were now about ten years out of practice, soon became much improved. I was also using the gym equipment every day and taking long walks in the snowy mountain wilderness with Gloria nearly every day that weather permitted. Soon my last remaining bit of belly paunch was gone for good.

Gloria had a troubled teenaged daughter named Debbie that I virtually never saw, always invariably staying at a different friend's house anytime that I went over to their house. I joked once that I guessed that she didn't like this house very much, or else once got a bit too close to the nutbag who owned it. Gloria replied without humor that the terms of the financial settlement precluded her from discussing that matter, and we very quickly changed the subject.

We talked about our love lives, or rather our lack of them, and after quite a few late night tub discussions and post coitus cuddlings, I felt that I had worked out pretty much everything emotional I had wanted to ponder on during this vacation, so in retrospect I don't regret a minute of my time "trapped in the wilds of central Oregon".

Gloria and I had one last big bang, so to speak, before I left that morning in late March, and although she would never admit it I think she knew she was going to miss my company. She made sure I had her phone and fax number written down in at least eight different places so I couldn't lose them all. I was expected to come back when I could and 'bring my girlfriend with me', and maybe, she hinted, 'we could all have fun in the hot tub together.' I agreed we would try to visit again sometime soon, but that it would probably not be this year.

I was given a ride to Medford in a four-wheel-drive truck by one of the locals who wanted to get some early spring business done and having learning my lesson the hard way, I bought another 4WD SUV to replace my old one that I had traded in for the convertible. I wasted very little time meandering on the road and drove nearly directly straight back home to Lovett, getting back late on a Saturday evening at the beginning of April.

Driving back into town seemed strange to me, as if I had been gone for just a few hours, instead of over a year. Seemingly, nothing much had changed. Our offices all looked good and just the way I had remembered them and my house seemed unchanged as if I had just left it earlier this morning.

There did seem to be a few cars down the street in front of Tom and Justin's house, and I remembered Marsha's comments about their Saturday night parties. I was in a jovial mood, and glad to be home, so I decided to stick my nose in their door and say "Hi" to everyone. I had a pretty good guess as to what I'd find there, but I figured at least one of the two people I most wanted to speak with would likely be there anyway.

I just parked in my own driveway and walked down the street to their house. Around the back I could hear laughing and splashing sounds from the pool in their back yard, and that sounded like a good place to start and make my hellos. The folks having fun in the pool were a bit too absorbed to pay much attention to me, as was also the cute pair of naked ladies making out on the deck. Perhaps no one quite recognized me, as I was at least sixty pounds thinner now than when I had left over a year ago. No matter.

The back door was wide open and there were a lot of sounds of fun coming from inside there, so in I went. No one was in the kitchen, but the kitchen doorway to the living area provided an excellent view of the frolicking going on in the living room. I had a particularly good view of the bare ass of ex-wife Becky as she was kneeling on the rug in front of a sofa sucking the rather large cock of a gentleman that I didn't recognize. Another dark haired lady I didn't recognize at all either was wearing a leather corset with both hands apparently tied behind her, and was earnestly licking Becky's clit from below. Roberta was bouncing up and down on Justin's cock at the time and happened to look in my general direction. She jumped up rather startled but happy to see me, but I smiled and held up a finger to my lips that I wanted to keep my presence secret for just a little bit longer.