1917  (Harper residence, San Francisco, California)

Jess Harper emerged from the double-door entry of the Grand Victorian that had been his home for the past forty-two years and descended the stairs as though he was running from a fire. He stiffened as he endured the obligatory embraces of the men and women who had been in his employ for most of that time, and then made his way to his automobile. Turning back to face the five of them, he lifted the corner of his mouth and nodded once more before placing his hat on his head and pulling down on the brim. He tossed his satchel onto the back, stepped up into the vehicle and plopped down into the passenger seat. Without a moment's hesitation, he glanced at his driver and waved his hand. "Let's go, Cappy."

As the touring car began to move slowly down the hill, Jess raised his hand again, this time signifying that the driver should stop. He had not intended to look back, but he could not help himself. Knowing that the life he had made and come to treasure had now been lost to him was not a pain that was unfamiliar to Jess, but this was the first time he had ever felt such a sense of melancholia. He stood, turned his body completely around and faced his now former entourage, then he lifted his hat and held it high over his head in one last farewell gesture.  One of the women drew her hand to her mouth as they all returned his wave.  For an instant he had a second thought about what he was doing but then turned forward again, sat down, and lifted his hand with the index finger slightly extended. "OK, Cappy, I'm ready, now."

Cappy was an ambitious young man who had managed to capture Jess' attention one rainy afternoon five years earlier. Jess had been on his way to the Wharf when his automobile had broken down. He had become frustrated with trying to get the dang thing to go and was cussing up a storm by the time the happy go lucky young man had shown up. Cappy wasted no time in fixing both the blasted machine, as Jess called it, and Jess' disposition. He offered to drive Jess home and once they'd arrived safe and sound, Jess had seen fit to hire him on the spot. He'd been driving the Harpers ever since. This was to be their final ride together.

"Penny for your thoughts, Mr. Harper."

"Nothing, Cappy. Not thinking about anything. Gonna miss this city. Been my home since '75. But it's time to go. It's time to go."

Cappy could see that Jess had something on his mind. "Yes, Sir, Jess. I'll just be quiet and leave you to your thoughts."

Jess looked into the distance.  "That's a good man, Cappy."

There was no need for talking. Jess knew what he had to do. He needed time with his memories and Wyoming was the only place that seemed suitable. It wasn't that he could not do his remembering in San Francisco, but rather that he had, long ago, made himself a promise that he would never become that which he feared the most:  A Rocker.

He had seen his friends turn old and take to their rocking chairs. He had listened as their once lively conversation turned into never ending dissertations of their recollected times gone by. He hated that. Always thought it to be useless and boring. But now things were different. Now he understood, again, what he had learned so many years ago and forgotten.  He understood why they needed to live in the past.  And so, he was going home.  Home to touch his past.  Home... to LARAMIE.