EXT. HUNTER'S FRONT PORCH - MOMENT LATER
Tom, hat on, stands at the door, truck parked on the street near the bins. Hunter opens the door slowly and slightly, surveys Tom and the truck.
TOM: Howdy, sir. My name is Tom Walker.
Hunter surveys Tom and truck parked on the street near the bins.
HUNTER: Tom Walker from Texas who was in Reno, Nevada, about this time fifty-one years ago?
TOM: Yessir. One of 'em anyway. I was there the evenin' a the eleventh through the afternoon a the fourteenth of July.
HUNTER: Doing what, if you don't mind me asking?
TOM: You can ask me anything ya want. I was passin' through on my way to Mexico from the end of a job near Fallon, Nevada.
HUNTER: What kind of job?
TOM: I'd round it off to ranch hand.
HUNTER: What was in Mexico?
TOM: A little vacation.
HUNTER: What was my mother's name?
TOM: Well, Marilyn was her first name but she went by her middle name Olivia. If I got the right Hunter Hardyn.
HUNTER: How did you find my address?
TOM: Paid a few bucks for an online search.
HUNTER: What if I didn't know who you are?
TOM: I'da been turned around and askin' for directions back to Drippin' Springs Road.
HUNTER: Just happen to be in the neighborhood?
TOM: Sorta. On my way to Texas.
HUNTER: From where?
TOM: Where I live in Laramie, Wyomin'.
HUNTER: I'm off to El Paso to pick up my daughter at the airport.
TOM: Yessir.
HUNTER: You'll be back through on your way home?
TOM: Yessir. In a week.
HUNTER: We won't be here in a week.
TOM: Yessir.
Hunter opens the door wider, gestures for Tom to enter. Tom takes off hat, enters, leaves view. Hunter stares at the truck, finally closes the door.
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