Return

During the Gulf War, I left Burns--planned to join the reserves, but I'm half-paralyzed in one leg. The nerves died in a car wreck, and the Army had enough yonkers willing to fight Saddam. I don't think I was ashamed, but I wanted to stay away from home for a few years. I tried Portland and Boise, even spent a bad winter in Rawlins, holed up with a girl I knew in middle school. She had stolen a flute from our band teacher, I remembered that, and once we met again it seemed like we had to be together. After the snows melted, though, I looked around and said I can't live a life in Wyoming. She hadn't lived in Oregon since high school, but she understood: you get around, come and go. Everyone returns at some point. I think most of the people in this town have left for years, but we usually come back.