Colt Crawford - Chapter 6 (Tuesday)

Colt dropped Krissy off at the police station and decided that he had better find a place to crash for the night that was close by. The hotel he had stayed at the previous night was just outside of Santa Maria, a good 50 minute drive north of Santa Barbara on the 101. Since he had checked out that morning anyway, there was no reason to make the drive back up. Besides, there were plenty of great hotels in Santa Barbara.

The harbor area had been a pleasant experience, so Colt decided to head back that way. He really didn’t know the town very well, so a little exploratory drive would be nice. Given that the holiday rush was probably subsiding, he gambled that he wouldn’t have any trouble finding a room. As he cruised the beach-side streets he lowered the top of the BMW and breathed in the late afternoon air.

He passed a grassy greenbelt along the road where a lone percussionist was playing his heart out on a set of bongos. As the man beat out the rhythm, a young child danced around, aimlessly weaving in and out of the row of palm trees that lined the street. A handful of tourists mingled down the sidewalk, many stopping to listen, no doubt enjoying the last few minutes of their own vacations before heading home to rejoin real life.

Colt had to glance down at his watch to be reminded of what day of the week it was. He had been out of L.A. for just over 24 hours, but it seemed as if a whole new world was emerging in front of him. It was Saturday afternoon, the second day of the new year, perhaps a very new year.

He continued down Cabrillo Boulevard on his seaside cruise until a sign with the word “Hotel” on it caught his eye. He pulled up in front of a white, two story, Spanish-style building and looked more closely at the sign. If the views from the balconies of Hotel Oceano were any indication of what the inside of the building must be like, Colt would be willing to give it a try. As with most beach towns, parking was a challenge, but Colt was fortunate to find a spot on the street only a short walk from the hotel. He pressed the button to raise the top back up and stepped out of the car. With his sparse luggage in hand, he walked up to the front desk and moments later walked away with a key-card for an ocean view room.

It was nearly 4:30 when Colt tossed his bag on the king sized bed. There was plenty of time for a quick run, some dinner, an hour of T.V. and an early bedtime. As long as no crime victims were hiding in the bushes along his route, it promised to be a fairly routine evening.

With his Nikes laced snugly to his feet and his iPhone in hand Colt trotted down the sidewalk adjacent to the sandy beach across the street from the hotel. He dodged in and out of the tourists who still lingered, breathing in the fresh air. Air like this was a real treat for a city boy and it felt refreshing. The weather was settling into the low 60s by this time of day and promised to drop even more, but it was perfect conditions for running. The sun would be setting out over the Pacific within the hour, and Colt refused to miss it. After about three miles, he turned around and retraced his steps toward the hotel. Glancing over his left shoulder, he watched as the giant orange ball of sun bid farewell to another day and slipped beneath the rolling waves of the sea.

Tomorrow promised to be a long day and a relaxing evening with KFC and a TV was waiting for Colt inside his well-appointed hotel room.