Miguel came from a small town in northern Mexico. He came north with his brother Luis to California three years ago. They crossed at the river Levee when Luis was just 16. And found work together in the fields of the San Joaquin. They left their friends and family. Their father said "My sons one thing you will learn. For everything the north gives it exacts a price in return.. "They worked side by side in the orchards. From morning till the day was thru. Doing the work the hueros wouldn't. Word was out some men in from Sinaloa were looking for some hands. Well deep in Fresno county there was a deserted chicken ranch. There was a small tin shack on the edge of a ravine. Miguel and Luis stood cooking methamphetamine. You could spend a year in the orchards. Or make half as much in one ten-hour shift. Working for the men from Sinaloa. But if you slipped the Hydriodic acid. Could burn right thru your skin. They'd leave you spittin' up blood in the desert. If you breathed those fumes in. It was early one winter evening as Miguel stood watch outside. When the shack exploded lighting up the valley night. Miguel carried Luis' body over his shoulder down a swale. To the creekside and there in the tall grass Luis Rosales died. Miguel lifted Luis' body into his truck and then he drove. To where the morning sunlight fell on a eucalyptus grove. There in the dirt he dug up 10000 dollars all that they'd saved. Kissed his brother's lips and placed him in his grave.