A Brand New Life
(Desperado Continues)

By Di

The jeep continued on to the next town with the guitar case securely stored in the back. Varied circumstances had brought them together for now - would it be enough to keep them together?

Just as Carolina drove into town, he woke from his fitful sleep. Where was he? Why was she here? Had he really killed his brother? It all rushed in too quickly. He had vowed revenge on Bucho for the death of the woman he loved. In his attempt to fulfill that vow, he had seen his three best friends killed and Carolina had lost everything she owned in the fire. Discovering that Bucho was actually his brother may have changed everything if the drug lord had not ultimately threatened Carolina and forced the shoot out. Killing his brother nearly tore his heart out but he could not face losing another woman he loved to this vendetta.

Now they were on the road with nothing but each other and a guitar case full of guns. Some type of plan had to be made for the future.

Before revenge became his main focus, he had been a Mariachi. This was no longer an option because of the damage caused by the bullet when they shot through his hand. His only remaining talent lay in how he handled his guns. Although he was determined to start a new life on the right side of the law, it would be difficult with only those skills to rely on.

Although Carolina was beautiful, she had never had to provide for herself financially. Money for the unsuccessful bookstore was inherited from her parents and her day to day needs were fulfilled by the money Bucho paid her to store his drugs in her building. Now all of that was gone.

The jeep screeched to a halt outside a small cantina. Carolina glanced at him sideways as she asked "Are you coming?"

He turned in his seat, opened the guitar case, removed one of the larger, more expensive guns and slid it into the waistband of his pants, making sure that it was fully covered by the jacket he wore. With a quick glance at Carolina, he snapped the guitar case shut, lifted it from behind the seat and got out of the jeep.

Together they entered the cantina which was strangely busy for the middle of the day. All eyes turned to watch as they walked slowly to a small table in the middle of the room. Once Carolina was seated, he slowly made his way to the bar. "We are looking for work," he stated, all the while scanning the room.

"There is no work in this town for a Mariachi. In fact, there's no work in this town at all," stated the bartender. "You'd have better luck north of the border in Texas."

He lowered his head and raised his eyes as he moved closer to whisper to the bartender. "We need to get some money together to head north. Is there someplace in town where I can sell a gun for cash?"

"You can talk to Pedro over at that table. He is usually in the market for a decent firearm and can pay cash right away."

Moving slowly across the room, he stopped in front of the table the bartender had pointed at. "You are Pedro?", he asked quietly. The man seated at the table nodded slightly. "We need to discuss some business - outside." As Pedro rose from his chair and left the cantina, he went back to the table for Carolina and the guitar case.

Once outside, they spotted Pedro across the road just inside the alleyway waiting for them. As they crossed the street, he glanced from side to side to make sure there would be no one to bother them while they discussed the sale. Seeing no one, they entered the alleyway.

"The bartender said you were in the business of buying guns. I have one to sell but, make no mistake, I know the value of this gun and will not be cheated," he stated emphatically. "If you are willing to pay a fair price, we will have a deal. If not, we'll just pack up and move to the next town."

Pedro nodded and held out his hand for the gun. After examining it closely and seeing that there was a bullet chambered, he turned and fired at a can lying in the street, sending the can spinning into the air. "Good piece," Pedro said and then he offered a price that would give them enough cash to get them across the border. The deal was struck, the money changed hands and they parted ways.

Stuffing the money into the pocket of his tight Mariachi pants, they headed back to the cantina. After a meal of burritos and beer, they made their way back to the jeep, watching their backs closely in case someone from the cantina decided to try to relieve them of the money they had gotten in the gun sale. While a couple of the locals did come to the door of the cantina, it was their curiosity to see if this was indeed the man that they had heard tales about. They decided that if there were even a slight chance that this were El Mariachi, it was worth letting the couple leave on their own terms and watched as the man tossed the guitar case in the back and the jeep roared out of town heading north.

Reaching one of the small towns along the Mexico/United States border, they stopped the jeep in front of a small motel which had a "Vacancy" sign flashing in front. It was evident from the lobby that the owner at least made an attempt to run a decent establishment, not like some of the sleazy joints next to the cantinas downtown. The room was small but clean and turning on the faucets actually produced hot water which came as a surprise. All Carolina wanted was to wash off the road dust and climb into bed. As she stepped into the shower, she heard the door of the motel room close and, seconds later, the jeep roared to life. "Great,"she thought, envisioning him leaving her stranded in this strange town with no money and no place to go. Opening the bathroom door she could see the guitar case lying across the bed. Wrapping herself in one of the threadbare towels, she slowly crossed the room, unlocked and opened the case. After fumbling with the hidden latch, the false guitar slowly lifted, revealing the multitude of guns hidden beneath.

"Well, if he doesn't return, at least I have the guns to sell," she thought to herself, trying to convince herself that he wouldn't leave her here on her own.

After waiting for over an hour, she stepped back into the shower. Tears ran down her beautiful face as she realized how little she actually knew about this man they called "El Mariachi." She had given herself to him and lost everything that had belonged to her. Now she feared he wouldn't return and she would have to start over again on her own, unsure if Bucho's men were still tracking her down.

Spurs jingling, he slowly pushed open the door of the worst looking cantina on the street. This was exactly the type of place he would expect to cater to the underworld types he was going to have to bargain with in order to get himself and Carolina across the border. As he walked purposefully toward the bar, the band holding back his hair came undone and his face was hidden from view. Reaching the bar, he slowly swung onto the bar stool. The movement allowed the customers seated at the tables a quick glimpse of the gun he had pushed into his belt. All conversation ceased as they watched to see what this stranger was going to do. He grabbed the bartender by the front of his shirt and whispered something that was unintelligible to the others seated at the bar. The bartender, looking frightened, nodded and motioned him to the back room. Glancing around the bar to make sure no one moved, he slowly backed out of the main bar and followed the bartender.

Seated at a lone table in the back room was a relatively small man wearing what appeared to be an expensive suit. Two men who were apparently bodyguards were also seated in the room, one in each of the two back corners of the room facing the doorway.

He stood in the doorway, watchful as the bartender approached the small man and whispered quietly. After a lengthy discussion, the small man nodded and stated a price which exceeded the cash remaining from the earlier gun sale. Negotiations continued until a deal was struck which included turning the jeep over to the small man at the conclusion of the contract. Agreeing that they would meet again in two days, he turned and left the room. A crowd had gathered in the cantina but a hushed silence fell as he walked between the tables and out the front door. He had one more stop to make.

Stopping the jeep in front of the motel, he reached across the seat to gather the items he had purchased. Opening the door, he saw Carolina crouched in a corner of the bed, wrapped in a towel and cradling the guitar case. Her face streaked with tears, she slowly raised her eyes to look at him. Swearing under his breath in Spanish, he threw the items he carried onto the chair by the door, strode quickly across the room and gathered her into his arms. Murmuring to her softly, he stroked her hair and reassured her that he had never intended to make her think he would leave her here alone.

He gently wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs, placed one hand on each side of her face and brought his lips down to meet hers. The towel quickly disappeared and together they removed the dirty, bloodstained clothing he wore. All thoughts of the future disappeared as they concentrated on each other and the immediate present. They made love quickly and fiercely that first time and fell asleep exhausted in each others arms.

Waking to the first rays of sunshine coming through the window, he turned his head to see a contented look on Carolina's face as she slept. He moved slightly and lowered his head to kiss her, barely touching her lips with his. She smiled, still half asleep, and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him to her. They moved together slowly and gently, both wanting to make this last forever. Words such as "mi corazon" and "mi amor" passed between them freely as they reached new heights of passion in the early morning light. Once again they fell into a comfortable sleep wrapped in each others arms.

Several hours later, Carolina woke to the sound of the water running in the shower. Making her way quietly to the bathroom door, she smiled as she pushed back the curtain and boldly stepped into the warm water. Grabbing the soap, she slowly washed his hair and body, at the same time checking his knife and bullet wounds for signs of healing. Returning the favor, he started to wash her long hair but quickly both were lost in the moment as passions rose. They soon felt as if they were the only two people in the world. It was heaven to shut out the realities of what awaited them as they devoted the next hour to each other's needs.

The water had long turned cold as they stepped laughing out of the shower. As Carolina stepped out of the bathroom, she glanced toward the chair by the door. "What's that?" she asked, indicating the parcels he had dropped there the night before.

"Some things I thought we may need for the trip north." he stated nonchalantly. As Carolina unwrapped the first package, she saw that in addition to some basic necessities, he had also purchased each of them a change of clothes. "I don't know 'bout you, but I can't bear to put these back on again," he said, indicating her dress and his dirty and bloodstained jeans and shirt.

She took the outfit he had purchased for her which consisted of jeans, T-shirt and boots and grinned. "How did you ever decide on my size?"

He grinned back and said, "I guessed on the jeans and shirt but I did have to steal one of your shoes to get the boots right. Where we are going tomorrow would be impossible in those shoes you were wearing before."

She saw that he had also purchased black jeans and a shirt for himself along with a jacket for her. Holding up the jacket, she looked quizzically at him. "I have a jacket," he said indicating the black jacket with the scorpion on the back. "No matter what, I keep that jacket - it reminds me of the past and what has happened to bring me to this day." With that, he turned and walked into the bathroom to shave.

As he was taking his time shaving, Carolina dumped the contents of her small purse on the bed and found a needle and thread that had been tossed in several months ago. She worked frantically and by the time he walked out of the bathroom, she was sitting cross-legged on the bed with a satisfied grin on her face. He glanced around for the new jeans he had purchased. When he didn't see them, he looked towards Carolina and raised a questioning eyebrow. After reaching behind her on the bed, she casually handed him the jeans. He smiled as he saw that while he was shaving she had hurriedly removed the conches from his old Mariachi pants and sewn them on the new jeans.

Seeing he was pleased, she hummed to herself as she quickly changed into the new clothes he had purchased. Although the shirt was a little tight, the jeans and boots fit perfectly. As he finished getting dressed, he glanced at Carolina.

"You look great," he stated.

"Thanks," she answered without looking up. "What do we do now?"

"I need to make a couple of phone calls but don't want to use the motel phone so we need to look for a pay phone that they can't trace if they are still looking for us," he said. "I think I saw one close to where we turned off the highway so we'll drive up that way first."

"Is this part of your 'plan' to get us across the border?" she questioned.

"I have made arrangements to get us across the border but we need someone to meet us on the other side. We have to turn the jeep over at the border - part of the deal I made to get us across. I have some friends I can call who will help us once we make it to the States."

Carolina looked at him quizzically, remembering the last friends he had called for help and who had arrived with machine guns and bazookas.

Together they walked out of the room, got into the jeep and drove towards the highway.

When they reached the pay phone, she stayed in the jeep while he made several phone calls. Although she couldn't hear everything being said, some words such as "birth certificate", "papers" and "American citizen" did float back to the jeep. The last thing she was able to hear was a time being set up for the next night.

He was deep in thought as he hung up the phone and turned back towards the jeep. Swinging into the drivers seat, he looked straight ahead although he could feel Carolina's eyes on him, silently looking for a sign as to where they would go from here. He drove slowly until they reached a small cafe where they ate in silence. She could tell by the look on his face that now was not the time to question him as to what he had planned. She could only trust that he was working out a plan for both of them.

Arriving back at the motel, he parked the jeep and removed the guitar case from the back. Carolina followed him into the room quietly as he set the case on the bed, unsnapped the locks and lifted the false guitar to reveal the guns stored below. One by one he lifted the guns, checked the mechanisms and loaded each of them.

Watching this ritual, Carolina realized that although the plan had been decided and steps taken to set the plan in motion, he was not convinced that there may not be problems along the way.

As he studied and loaded each gun, his mind ran through the plan he had developed, looking for any possible flaws. Although he trusted the men he had called today to meet them on the other side, the unknown factor in the plan was the small man he had made the deal with to get them to and across the border. Steps had to be taken to assure that he had the possibility of betrayal covered. One of those steps was making sure Carolina knew what he had planned and what was expected from her.

Once the inspection and loading of the guns was completed, he stored each of them in their place within the guitar case. Closing the case, snapping it shut and removing it from the bed he finally raised his eyes to look at Carolina who sat silently cross-legged on the bed watching him. Along with the fear he saw in her eyes, he also saw the trust she had in him.

Reaching out his hand to her, he helped her off the bed and pulled her into his arms. Lifting her chin with his finger, he slowly lowered his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and sensual but he pulled away slightly to look into her eyes. "We need to talk," he murmured as he brushed her hair with his lips. "You need to know every step of what is going to happen tomorrow."

With their arms still around each other, he turned and sat on the bed, drawing her down onto his lap. Not knowing where to start, several moments passed before he began to speak.

"I have lived in Mexico all of my life," he started, "but I wasn't born here. My father was a Mariachi who had to travel wherever there was a job. My mother loved him very much and followed him wherever he went, whenever he went. Even after my brother was born, they didn't settle down in any one place and traveled from town to town. Eventually, there were no jobs in the small border towns in Mexico so my father took a job on the United States side of the border. Then no one checked too closely for "green cards" or asked too many questions about "illegal aliens." They stayed several months in that small town. My mother was pregnant with me at the time and they didn't want to travel until after the delivery. Eventually, she went into labor and was having a hard time. When my father saw that she was in trouble, he took her to the small local hospital where I was born. One of the calls I made today was to that hospital to see if there was a birth certificate on file. There is, so I actually qualify as an U.S. citizen which means I can get legal work across the border."

Closing her eyes, she leaned back against his chest as he tightened his arms around her waist. It seemed that once across the border his life would continue unfettered by immigration laws, etc. What about her? She had no U.S. citizenship, no "green card."

Sensing her insecurities, he slowly turned her to face him. Kissing her forehead, he settled them both comfortably on the bed and continued telling her of the plans for the next day. Eventually, they both fell asleep with their arms wrapped around each other. Neither of them had an easy nights sleep and were bothered by sporadic dreams of what the next day would bring.

Carolina woke first and turned to watch him as he slept. She was amazed at how much she had come to love this man in such a short time. Loving him had come easy, learning to trust him had been harder. Their conversation of the night before came back in bits and pieces. He had trusted her enough to tell her of his past, she would trust that he cared enough about her to help her escape Mexico and Bucho's men. She smiled at him as he turned towards her in his sleep.

Glancing towards the window, Carolina saw that the sun was high already and that it must be almost noon. Slipping from the bed, she quietly dressed and prepared for the day ahead. As she brushed her hair, she saw him reflected in the mirror. He was lying on the bed with his arms crossed beneath his head, watching her with a small grin on his face.

She grinned into the mirror and turned. Reaching the end of the bed, she slowly crawled on her hands and knees until she was kneeling beside him. Holding her hair back with one hand, she caressed his face with the other and lowered her lips to his. Pulling her down to him, the kiss quickly became more passionate until she pulled back and, with more than a little regret, stated, "It's late."

Turning his head to the window, he swore quietly in Spanish, kissed her again and slowly got up from the bed. His liquid amber eyes glowing beneath lowered brows, he stated emphatically, "We'll finish this later." She smiled, turned to pick up their meager belongings and carried them out to the jeep.

Pulling his hair back as he left the motel, he looked up to see Carolina already seated in the passenger side of the jeep. "In a hurry?" he questioned.

"I want to get out of here and start my new life," she answered matter of factly. "I don't want to wait, I want to do it now."

He shook his head from side to side. She never ceased to amaze him. One minute she was like a frightened animal who has been cornered by it's enemy. The next she turned into a confident, self assured tigress. It was good that she was the "tigress" today - he needed her to be strong and confident to carry out the plans he had put in place.

A cloud of dust rolled through the parking lot as he backed up the jeep, stopped and shifted into first gear. Looking at Carolina he asked, "Are you ready?"

Biting her bottom lip, she nodded. Today would be the beginning of their new life together in a new country. She only hoped that leaving Mexico would also mean that Bucho's men would lose their trail and that they would be truly free to start over.

Stopping the jeep in front of the sleazy cantina he had visited earlier, he gathered the guitar case and met Carolina on the sidewalk. Pushing open the door, he strode purposefully into the bar with Carolina close on his heels. Crossing the room, he noticed that the man behind the bar was the same man who had been tending bar two days before.

The bartender looked up, finished filling the beer mug he had in his hand, set it on the bar and jerked his head towards the door to the back room. "He's waiting for you," he drawled.

With a final glance around the cantina, they reached the door, knocked twice and heard someone say "Enter." Opening the door, he saw the small man he had negotiated with earlier sitting at the same table. The two bodyguards sat in their chairs at the back of the room with disinterested looks on their faces.

Carolina leaned against the closed door as he slowly approached the man. "The money we agreed on," he said as he dropped the cash on the table. The small man made a point of counting the cash in front of them. Satisfied that it was all there, he nodded to one of the bodyguards who rose from his chair and walked across the room. Carolina moved away from the door and lowered her eyes to the floor. The man pulled open the door, walked through and slammed it shut. No one said a word as they waited for him to return.

Several minutes passed and the door suddenly swung open. Expecting the bodyguard, they were surprised to see a strange man standing in the doorway. He was dressed in black leather and had two large handguns strapped to his hips.

"You are El Mariachi," he stated rather than asked. "I am Manuel. I have been assigned to get you and your lady across the border. We will take your jeep as soon as it gets dark. We will have about an hours drive before we reach the border crossing. Once we arrive there and you are on United States soil, I will return with the jeep and leave you with a cellular phone and instructions on how your contact can locate you to pick you up."

"And the other things we discussed?" he asked, glancing at Carolina.

Manuel smirked as he nodded. "I have everything we discussed. When we reach the border, you will be given all you need to start over in the U.S."

The sun would not be setting for at least another hour. They slowly backed out of the room, sat down at one of the tables in the cantina and ordered two beers. No one spoke to them, although they were well aware of several pairs of eyes watching their every move. Since his first visit to the cantina, rumors had spread like wildfire through the town. It seemed that everyone had heard a different version of what had happened in the various towns he had visited. Although the versions varied, they all had the same basic story line which involved hidden guns, shoot outs in cantinas and the deaths of many men working for Moco and Bucho, the infamous drug dealers.

One by one, the tables cleared as the customers edged toward the door of the cantina. Not knowing what events were occurring in the back room, they did not want to be within range if something went wrong and the guitar case were opened. Eventually, the only people left in the cantina were the two of them and the bartender.

Without speaking, they finished their beers, left the cantina and got into the jeep to wait for Manuel. It was just getting dusk when they saw him round the corner of the building and walk toward the jeep.

Carolina moved into the back with the guitar case as Manuel got behind the wheel. Turning the key, he felt the Mariachi's eyes on him as he backed the jeep into the street. "No need to worry", he said. "No one knows where this place is, including the border guards."

They had driven in silence for about thirty minutes when they reached a small opening between two outcroppings of rocks. Suddenly a shot rang out and they heard the whiz of a bullet as it passed close to the jeep. Screeching to a halt, they jumped from the jeep and took cover behind one of the large boulders along the road.

Several more shots rang out, hitting the rocks above them.

Manuel fired several shots in the direction of the gunfire, effectively covering him, as he reached into the jeep and removed the guitar case. Scooting back behind the boulders, he quickly opened the case and removed two pieces which screwed together into a small rifle.

Reaching into the case once again he retrieved and mounted a small night vision scope. Once the rifle was assembled, he lined up the scope in the direction of the gunfire. By searching for the flash from the gunshots, he eventually counted four men hidden in the boulders opposite their hiding place. As he watched, one of Manuel's bullets struck one of the men and he flew backwards as his gun discharged into the air.

"Three! There are three left!" he shouted to Manuel. Both men waited until they saw a flash from one of the attacker's guns and opened fire. With the aid of the night scope, he saw two more men jerk backwards as the bullets found their mark.

They waited patiently for the remaining attacker to make a move. After several minutes, they heard an truck engine start and race off at a high rate of speed. After motioning to Carolina to stay put by the jeep, both men slowly advanced to the spot where three of the attackers lie motionless. Using his boot to turn one of the men over, he looked into the face of one of Bucho's trusted comrades.

Spinning toward Manuel, he raised the rifle and snarled, "You said no one knew of this place. How did they find us? What did they pay you?"

Raising his hands, Manuel looked him in the eye without blinking. "I told no one anything. They must have paid off the man that made the arrangements. He must have sold you out! I assure you, I have no desire to double cross El Mariachi!"

He stared into Manuel's eyes, searching for a sign that he was lying but Manuel didn't flinch.

"Just know that I will be watching your every move until Carolina and I are safely on the other side of the border. One false move and you won't see another sunrise. That is a promise."

Manuel nodded and together the men made their way back to where Carolina still crouched behind the boulders with the open guitar case. By now she had taken a loaded pistol from the case and held it in front of her, moving it from side to side.

"Carolina! Put it down! The men are dead," he stated as he held out his hand for the gun.

As she handed him the gun, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him. He held her until her shaking ceased, tilted back her head and, looking into her eyes, told her that the men that had attacked them were Bucho's henchmen.

"Bucho's dead! Why can't they just let us leave?" she cried into his shoulder.

He kissed the top of her head and slowly led her to the jeep.

They drove for several more miles before Manuel slowed the jeep to a stop. For some time, the road had disintegrated until it was not much more than a trail at this point.

"See that bluff right there? At the base of the bluff there is an entrance into a tunnel. The tunnel will lead you through the hills. When you come out of the tunnel on the other side, you will be in the United States. Here is the cell phone I promised. Do not use it until you are safely through the tunnel. Here is the paperwork you will need on the other side."

Opening the packet, he slowly withdrew the papers. Carolina leaned over the seat to see what was included. As he shuffled through the papers, she caught a quick glimpse of a birth certificate. The only thing she was able to read before he put the papers back into the envelope was the name "Carolina". She smiled to herself as he extended his hand to help her out of the jeep. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as he gazed at her questioningly. He slowly shook his head and turned to Manuel.

"I feel you are being honest with me when you say you had nothing to do with the attack by Bucho's men. That is why I am letting you take the jeep and leave. But be warned, if I ever find out that you were involved, you will never know when you will face the wrath of El Mariachi."

Manuel nodded and walked towards the jeep. Turning, he looked at them and said, "I wish you luck on the other side. Just know that the double cross will not go unavenged." With that he got into the jeep and, wheels spinning in the dirt, raced down the trail.

They watched until the jeep was out of sight and slowly turned toward the bluff. As they reached the base, he gathered several dry weeds and twisted them into makeshift torches. After handing the supply to Carolina, he lit one, picked up the guitar case and told her to follow him. They walked around the base of the bluff looking for the opening. Unable to locate the entrance to the tunnel, anger and frustration were taking over just as Carolina pointed at a boulder and whispered, "Look!"

Walking up to the boulder, he could see that the entrance was tucked behind the rock, out of view of the casual observer. Pushing the guitar case ahead of him, he squeezed through the small opening and, once inside, turned to help Carolina. Handing him the makeshift torches, she crawled into the tunnel and was surprised to see that the tunnel was much larger than it appeared and, in fact, they were able to stand upright. The walls of the tunnel were rough and Carolina followed closely behind him as he lit another of the weed torches. Assuring himself that the tunnel was straight with no chance of veering off, they began to move through the tunnel as quickly as possible, lighting a torch occasionally to check their progress. They walked for about an hour and were down to their last torch, when suddenly they felt a breeze of fresh air on their faces. Warily they made their way to the exit from the tunnel which was cut into the bluff base much as the entrance had been. Once outside, they turned to look toward the bluff, only to see that the hole through which they had exited was virtually invisible.

Carolina found a rock to sit on as he took the cellular phone from the pocket of his jacket. From the other pocket he retrieved the location instructions Manuel had given him. Punching in the numbers quickly, he waited as he heard the phone begin to ring on the other end. It was quickly answered, "Hola!"

"We made it. Listen closely - this is where you can meet us. Bring the other items we discussed the other day." Nodding, he said, "Adios," and closed the phone, ending the connection.

"According to these instructions, we still have a ways to walk. We should arrive at the pick up place at about the same time as my friend. I know you are tired but we have to move now. Are you ready?"

She nodded, inhaled deeply and stood slowly. Looking down at the boots he had purchased for her, she smiled and looked up at him. "One of your better ideas," she said and began to walk in front of him.

"Whoa - wrong way!" Grabbing the guitar case, he entwined the fingers of his free hand with hers. They walked side by side that way for over an hour before they reached a small deserted shack just as the sun was coming up in the east. He released her hand and kicked open the door sending dust flying into the new rays of the sun.

"Nice place," she commented. "I hope your friends come soon. This is not where I want to spend my new life in the States!" He watched as she brushed the dirt off an old chair that was sitting in the corner and tested it to see if it would fall apart. Satisfied that it would hold her weight, she gingerly sat down, crossed her arms and waited.

Unable to sit, he paced the floor of the shack as she watched. The sun had fully risen when they heard the roar of an engine and looked out to see a pickup driving towards the shack. Ducking out of view, he motioned for Carolina to stay put as he peeked out the window with his gun drawn.

As the pickup pulled to a stop in front of the shack and the driver got out, he began to smile and pushed the gun back into the waistband of his jeans. Carolina rose from the chair and crossed the room to stand beside him as the door opened and the two men shook hands.

"Everything is arranged. I have the papers you asked for and have arranged a place for you to stay in Dallas. There is some money and two bus tickets for you in the envelope - you can pay me back whenever you can, no hurry. Ramon is checking with his associates to see if he can find a job for you and your lady," the friend stated, glancing toward Carolina.

"Carolina, this is my friend, Hector. Hector, Carolina. I'm so sorry about what happened to Quino in Santa Rosiria."

Hector nodded slowly and stated, "We both lost brothers that day. Now we must hurry and get you to the bus station before it leaves without you."

After stowing the guitar case, he helped Carolina climb into the pickup as Hector started the engine. Gravel flew as they turned around and headed for the closest town and the bus station.

It was early evening when the bus pulled into Dallas. They had bid farewell to Hector that morning at the bus station. After making a phone call, he had assured them that Ramon would meet the bus on the other end and that jobs and living arrangements had been made for them. Carolina was still asleep with her head on his shoulder as he glanced out the window to see Ramon waiting on the sidewalk. He shook Carolina gently and smiled into her eyes as she slowly woke. The bus had pulled to a stop as they left their seats and he retrieved the guitar case from the overhead bin.

The men shook hands and embraced as Carolina stood off to the side, nervous about where they went from here. After being introduced, Ramon explained to her that he had gotten them a furnished apartment which they could move into today. The jobs that he had arranged for them wouldn't start for a couple of days which would allow them time to purchase some of the things they needed and get settled in. Walking towards the parking lot, he handed them the keys for the apartment. There were also keys for a car he had parked there for them to use.

Arriving at the apartment complex, he slowly led them to an apartment on the first level. Although the apartment was small, it was clean and they could tell from the look on Carolina's face that she was already formulating ideas for some changes.

Ramon explained that the people who had promised them jobs were "friends of friends" and that no one would be probing into their past. "It's enough to get you started," he said. "Once you have a job history working in the States, you can decide where you want to go from here." Ramon handed him a certified copy of his birth certificate and explained that his new job would be as a bartender/bouncer at one of the hottest new nightclubs in Dallas. "Hector told me about what happened to Carolina's bookstore in Mexico. A wife of one my associates happens to own a neighborhood bookstore not far from here and has been looking for a new employee. You are to meet with her tomorrow afternoon, if this is acceptable to you?"

Carolina smiled and said, "Si. I miss my bookstore and would be happy to work for the Senora but how can I? I was not born here and I don't have a green card."

He slowly took the papers from his pocket and handed her the copy of the birth certificate Manuel had given him before they crossed the border. Listed as the birth name was "Carolina Martinez" and the place of birth was listed as "El Paso, Texas." Eyes brimming with tears, she threw herself into his arms, kissed him and said, "Now we truly start over!"

Over the next few months they settled into their new lives quite easily. Carolina loved her work at the bookstore and became fast friends with the owner who quickly promoted her to assistant manager. While he enjoyed his work at the nightclub, he was becoming more and more incensed about the drug dealing that was taking place out of view of the club management. He was aware that several of the employees of the nightclub were involved in negotiating the deals and arranging the exchanges. He was also convinced that the owner of the club was unaware of the drug deals and began to keep a journal of what he saw going down in the parking lot, who was involved, names of clients, names of suppliers he overheard etc.

Not sure what he would do with this information, he kept the journal hidden in their apartment, making sure that Carolina wouldn't find it by accident as he didn't want her worried that he would take matters into his own hands once again.

After he had been working there for several months, he noticed a man who began coming into the club almost nightly. The man always sat at the back of the bar with his back to the wall. His vantage point also allowed him to watch the entire crowd without drawing the attention of a casual observer. He always drank sodas, sat by himself and made no attempts to interact with either the customers or the employees of the club.

None of this escaped the eye of the man behind the bar, however, as his skills in detecting unusual behavior in others had been key to his survival in Mexico. He made a decision to uncover this man's secret as it was becoming increasingly apparent that there was a motive to this man's strange behavior. After making a concerted effort to engage the customer in conversation, he was about ready to give up when the man slipped him a note at closing time one Friday night.

"Meet me in the parking lot of the Sheraton off Broadway in two hours," was all the note said. Knowing that this could be a trap, he stopped at the apartment after closing the nightclub. He moved quietly around the apartment, taking great care not to wake Carolina. After retrieving the guitar case from it's hiding spot, he softly opened the latches and removed two guns, storing one in the waistband of his jeans and the other in his jacket.

Returning the case to its hiding spot, he quietly left the apartment. As he softly closed the door behind him, a tear slowly rolled from Carolina's eye and dropped onto her pillow.

The man was waiting for him when he arrived at the Sheraton parking lot. Both men were wary as they tried to size up the other and each waited for the other to make the first move.

Finally, the customer took the initiative and spoke. "I'm taking a big chance here and, if I'm wrong, I'm a dead man. My name is Jack Turner. I work for the DEA and I've been working undercover at the nightclub trying to get information put together to close down the drug activities there. About the only thing I've been able to determine so far is that I don't think you are involved. When you started approaching me I was afraid you would blow my cover which is why I wanted to meet with you tonight. If you are involved, I guess this is the end of the road for me. If not, I need to ask for your help. What's it going to be?"

"I am not involved," he stated emphatically. "Since my life as a Mariachi was taken from me, I have spent my life trying to rid the world of as many of the drug dealers as I can. By telling me you are DEA, you have trusted me with your life. I now trust you with mine." For the next two hours he told Jack the details of his life in Mexico including the men he had killed and of the activities he had witnessed at the nightclub here in Dallas. What he didn't reveal was any information about Carolina or the existence of the journal itself.

After promising to provide Jack with a list of names in the next couple of days, he went back to the apartment. Slipping noiselessly through the door, he removed the guns and hid them in one of the dresser drawers. Turning toward the bed, he saw Carolina watching him, her eyes filled with tears. Seating himself on the edge of the bed, he slowly took her into his arms. Wrapping her arms tightly around him, she heard him whisper slowly into her ear, "We have something we need to talk about." She nodded and listened carefully as he explained about the drug activity at the club, the journal and Jack. Although he knew she was frightened by what may happen, he was proud of her as she stated, "We need to help him however we can."

The sun was beginning to rise on a rainy Saturday morning just as they fell asleep in each others arms, happy that Carolina didn't have to work on Saturdays and that he didn't have to get to the club until later. They spent much of the day in bed, showing each other over and over again just how much they needed and loved each other.

Although Jack quit coming to the club regularly, he had several more meetings with him over the next two months. After much soul searching, he finally turned the journal over to Jack who assured him that no one would be able to trace the information back to him.

Returning to the apartment after work one day, Carolina noticed a group of children gathered around one of the picnic tables in the playground across the street from their apartment complex. Crossing the street, she started to smile as she saw him seated on the table, his left arm wrapped around a small child showing him various chords on a guitar while quickly strumming the strings with his right. A small group of children were seated in a semi-circle on the ground, laughing and watching as he patiently showed the small child a new chord. Carolina's heart fluttered in her chest as she took in the sight of him with the children and of the news she had to tell him that night.

They were married a month later in a small Mexican chapel. The only guests were Ramon and Hector and their families. Jack sent his best wishes but did not want to compromise them by making an appearance.

The drug bust at the nightclub had been successfully completed about two weeks before. Jack had moved him out of the club before the DEA moved in and gotten him a job working undercover in another club they were targeting in town. He didn't want him connected to the bust in any way.

Returning to the apartment after the ceremony, Carolina was surprised to find the battered guitar case sitting on the bed wrapped in a red ribbon with a red rose lying across the cover. He leaned against the door frame, grinned and said, "Open it."

Lifting the rose from the case, she breathed in its heady fragrance while trying to read his thoughts. Unable to see past his eyes, she slowly untied the ribbon and opened the latches one at a time. Hesitantly she opened the cover with trembling hands. Nestled inside was a brand new guitar. The false guitar front and all guns had been removed. Although they both knew that this new life also held its dangers and that they would need to take steps to protect themselves, this was his way of showing her that the vendetta was ended.

Six months later she lay dozing as the door quietly opened and he moved next to the hospital bed to gaze lovingly at her face. She seemed so contented and happy in her sleep - in fact, she now seemed "complete."

As she woke from her slumber, she saw him sitting in a chair by the bed with a satisfied grin on his face. He kissed her forehead and helped her rearrange the pillows so she could sit up. Just as he kissed her lips longingly, the door to the room opened and a nurse entered with a small, wrapped bundle.

"Ah, my son!" He smiled as his heart took in the sight of her holding his newborn child. Seating himself of the edge of the bed, his heart filled with love as he leaned to kiss his son.

"Ah, Carolina? Did I thank you?" he murmured. Slowly she shook her head.

Raising her chin with his finger, he brought his face close to hers and whispered, "Thank you."