(( Listen to this while you read:Ā http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jce3Frxot9sĀ ))
A low-lying mist swirled about my legs as I trudged along the dusty road. Considering how crispy the desert could get during the day, it was surprisingly cool right now. I jammed my hands in my pockets and peered at the road ahead.
In the distance, I could just barely make out a dark shack-shaped shadow in the distance. Itās likely that noone would be awake at this time of night, but it would provide something other than a cactus to rest against.
Yeahā¦ I wonāt make THAT mistake again.
As I drew nearer to the shack, I could hear the gentle strumming of a guitar. It didnāt seem to have any sort of cohesive melody, just someone freestyling with a sort of mariachi flair. Strangely enough, I couldnāt see who was playing the music. Noone seated out frontā¦ No lights insideā¦ Just the gentle strains of a forgotten ballad.
I took the brief respite I had promised myself, oddly calmed by the haunting strings. After a time I rose to my feet, took one last fruitless look inside, then continued on my way.
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My ears tracked the lonely music as long as I could. It was a welcome reprieve from the ever-present music of desert fauna that one would normally expect in the wastes of Mexico. The moon hovered in the sky, pleasantly full and illuminating the land quite wellā¦ save the ground which remained hidden beneath a blanket of fog.
Not long after the last strains of mariachi had faded behind me, I stopped. I listened cautiously, not even wishing to disturb the air with a breath.
That same forlorn strumming was now coming from ahead of me.
I tentatively picked up the pace. The shack rose from the mist as it had before, with the hidden mariachi continuing his art. A sign on the wall I hadnāt noticed before said simply āDa Capoā. Kneeling beside the outer wall, I waved away fog to see the small crushed plants and disturbed sand indicating my previous resting place.
Panic gave my weary frame a burst of energy, and I ranā¦ The music faded, then strengthened once againā¦ I was trapped.
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The groundās mist mirrored my mindās panic as I ran. I lost track of whether I had passed that damned shackā¦ 4, maybe 5 times?
The music which had calmed me only a short time ago now grated itself across my ears like a catās tongue. I tried running perpendicular to the road, risking the chance of getting lost in the desert, but I only returned to the same spot.
I glanced upwards and found that moon hadnāt shifted in the sky one iota. Spent, I plunked down on the ground to try to collect myself. It wasnāt a simple task, with the constant invasion of the strumming from that old guitar.
āDa Capoāā¦ I looked at the sign curiously. That wasnāt spanishā¦ The phrase wandered around in my head and finally connected with my old high-school band lessons. āDa Capoāā¦ Repeat from beginning.
With a giggle of desperation, I grabbed a nearby piece of white rock. Beneath the existing phrase I scratched the words āal codaā and set off toward my destination, the music fading one last time.
