California Lloyd – Part 1

I make no apology for the fact that I have an eye for a young man. And me being a creature of habit, it will come as no surprise that this one was about 20 and travelling with his parents when I encountered him – not once but twice on the same trip. Coincidence? Perhaps, but I’m not one to “pass by on the other side” when a young man needs a helping hand, so to speak!

I was on one of my photography and sightseeing trips and I had spent a few days on my own in the ever-beautiful San Francisco. Now I was off in the direction of Yosemite National Park. I had booked in at a small family-run hotel a few miles outside the Park, a rather quaint old place with a timber frontage and antique furniture everywhere. It was about 9.45pm and I was sitting quietly enjoying a drink after dinner in the hotel lounge, reading the Yosemite National Park Guide and planning my route for tomorrow, while out of the corner of my eye, I was people-watching – you know, the way you do.

The lounge was quite small and the main Reception desk was in the corner near the front doors and I could see people coming and going. There wasn’t a lot of activity though, it being a very small hotel and most guests having already checked-in but there ventured through the doors a tired-looking middle-aged couple accompanied by a young man of about 19, presumably their son. Suddenly, my Yosemite Guide was but a blur to my eyes, as I listened intently to the conversation now taking place at the desk.

It seems they had been travelling all day; they had flown-in from Atlanta, then driven here from San Francisco. They had booked rooms in another hotel but had not paid a deposit and had arrived much later than expected; consequently they had found their rooms let to someone else; an unhappy set of circumstances at any rate, from which they now needed rescuing rather late in the day.

The desk-clerk was very sympathetic and clearly wanted to be helpful.

“Well,” she said to the middle-aged guy before her, “I do have one room available for tonight and it has a King-bed; I guess that would suit you and your wife but I’m afraid we don’t have any other rooms available and the room I do have is far too small for another single bed – even if I had one – which I don’t, I’m afraid. I’m awfully sorry.”

Meanwhile, I had been sizing-up the young man. I had already put him at about 20. He was about 5’ 10” and I guessed about 165lb. He had a tanned and well cared-for complexion, while his hair was short, though not quite military, his “hard” look was reinforced by rather fetching camouflage pants and a white vest; his smooth bare arms and the tight-fitting nature of the latter declaring that the lad probably worked-out; not a lot, just enough to build some substance to his otherwise lanky frame.

Obviously weary and somewhat at a loss for an alternative, I could hear the mother and father discussing something about a sleeping-bag and talking to their son. They appeared to be considering taking the room, provided their son could sleep on the floor. I stood up.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” I said, “but I couldn’t help overhearing your dreadful story. I’m sorry you’re in such a pickle; you must be so tired.”

I had their attention, if for no other reason than for my English accent!

“I’m passing through here myself,” I continued, “and ….. erm….. well, it so happens I have twin beds in my room but I only need the one. If your lad doesn’t mind sharing a room with a stranger, he’d be welcome to have the use of the other bed in my room. It is only one night after all. It’s rather late – and it would avoid all three of you having to share the same bathroom too.”

As I said this, I looked at the young man and found him looking thoughtfully back at me through half-closed eyes. After a short pause, I added a diversionary remark,

“How come it took you so long travelling from Atlanta anyway?”

The father was quick to spot an opportunity, not to mention a polite foreigner,

“I say!