A gaunt, middle-aging man lay napping on the carpeted floor at Salt Lake City International’s Gate 12. His long, thinning blonde hair was surrendering territory to skin, and the rest of what hair remained was turning unintentionally into dreadlocks. His head rested on a well-used gray backpack, and it appeared as though he lay spooning with a small child dressed in a Day-Glo green rain jacket. The small child was, in fact, a brand new Ortovox Trad 35 alpine pack, made for the serious mountaineer.
The clothes he wore were more appropriate for a teenager than a thirty-something. He wore a tattered pair of black-and-white checkered skateboard shoes, sans laces and socks. His jeans were a high-end fashion brand, low cut at the waist to show off a young, fit man’s abdominal muscles. While thin enough to wear the brand, there was little definition to his stomach, and he was at least a decade removed from the market the manufacturer targeted. The jeans were stained, as was the faded red and black flannel shirt he wore open, revealing a ragged black undershirt promoting Soundgarden’s 1995 “Superunknown” tour.
His face needed a shave and some soap and water. If he had been lying outside on the street instead of inside the airport, the disheveled man might have been mistaken for a homeless person. Which he in fact now was.
Despite appearances to the contrary, the napping man at Gate 12 came from one of the wealthiest families in the world. He was Brigham Young the VIII, also known as Brig, first-born son of Brigham Young the VII and heir to his family’s vast fortune…or rather, was the heir to his family’s vast wealth. He had been disowned, disinherited, and given explicit orders to never contact anyone in the Young family again.