In an unprecedented show of joy and unity, the small city of Socorro, New Mexico came to a standstill yesterday to rejoice in the return from Iraq of one of its favorite sons.

Troy Johnson, 22, came home late in the afternoon to cries of jubilation from nearly half of the town’s 9,000 residents. As he entered the town square, his ride from the airport—a Chevrolet Cavalier convertible rented for his arrival—was overrun by a fanatical crowd of relatives and friends.

“All this attention is excellent—amazing, really,” Johnson said above the screams, “but all I want is a nice frappuccino.” The Socorro Starbucks could not grant his wish, however, as it had closed for the occasion.

“We’re just so excited Troy’s home again,” said Marla Johnson, Troy’s mother. “I could feel the sadness here, not just in me, but in everyone. It was like a cloud was always hanging over our lives. Troy can touch people like that.”

To attentive townsfolk, Johnson said of the war, “It was danger everywhere you stepped, I doubt we’ve been in a conflict like this for a long time. It was absolutely senseless. I have no sense of accomplishment.”

But Johnson will always be a hero to his family and to those he saved. His return from duty is indeed remarkable in light of the frequently dire situations into which his unit, the U.S. Army's 81st Quartermaster Company, was cast during its five-month assignment. He and four fellow soldiers twice were held captive by Iraqi rebel groups; both times, Johnson found a way out—once by using a magnifying glass to burn the building in which they were trapped and once by punching a hole in a decaying wall.

“The impetus of my finding an escape was always Allie,” he said, casting a sidelong glance at Alison Simpson, his girlfriend of five years. “I always carried a picture of her with me. It helped me figure out what to do.”

He paused.

“I’ve traveled more than miles to see you,” he said, finally fixing his gaze on her.

“And I’ve been waiting—my God, it’s incredible to think of how long I’ve been numb,” Simpson said. They saw each other tremble.

Tears and champagne flowed freely during a party held at a local pub. After paying visits to the revelers, Johnson and Simpson discreetly left and went to Johnson's bedroom, which remained untouched since his departure in December.

	Robert James Waller

“The stars over the outskirts of Baghdad are incredible,” Johnson said as he guided Simpson to the bed. “And I couldn’t help but think I saw you in them every night before I went to sleep, after everyone else had gone, I was out—I think for hours—and I saw you in them, I know.”

“A thousand country roads have separated us,” Allie said. “Just think of how many rides—”

He kissed her. Each drank the other’s tears and champagne.

And so they went on another journey—one unobstructed but nonetheless paid for in blood and sweat and longing and tears. Night became day and day night. They were that good together.

[This article is brought to you by Robert James Waller.  To see more of his writing, visit http://www.twbookmark.com/authors/35/926/]

Comments

Wow Written by Guest on 2004-04-17 23:37:30 Waller, you are a genius!  Genius!

Giggle Written by Guest on 2004-04-18 15:51:55 Quote: 81st Infantry Division     chortle chortle

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