Juan Moisés De La Serna - Fatima - The Final Secret

“Come on Manu, let’s see if you can beat your father this time, and you can become the champion.”

Looking at that cold water, which I did not want to get into, I reluctantly got up, shook off the sand that had stuck to my legs and lazily went over to my father’s side. I spoke to him so quietly that he could barely hear me:

“Well, what do you think about playing a little? But you know, you have to let me win.”

“Whaaat? I can’t hear you, speak up, what did you say?” said my father.

“How about we play? If you’d like,” I repeated louder.

“Son, I’m going to see if you ever let the boy win,” Grandpa told my father when he heard me.

I was glad that Grandpa supported me:

“Did you hear that Dad? Let’s see if you listen to your father. What can I say, just as you tell me that I have to obey you, because you’re my father, you also have to do it, because you’re his son,” and without further ado we started to play.

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I jumped out of bed, how could I have forgotten? I ran down the hallway, thank goodness there was no one in the bathroom. I got into the bathtub, but since I was half-asleep, I almost fell. After a quick shower, now a little more alert, I returned to my bedroom thinking that I didn’t have time for breakfast. I would be late, and as it was the first day, it would not go down well if I was the last to show up, what would the others think?

I saw the clothes placed there on the chair and I put them on in a rush. Thank goodness I had gotten them ready last night before going to bed, thinking that it would be the most convenient way to prepare. I’d never been in such a situation before and I was sure that if I hadn’t prepared, I would not have found anything appropriate to wear with all the scrambling around this morning and I would have screwed it up.

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Sitting quietly, waiting for that hot cup of coffee that I had left on the table to cool down, the memories of that distant day came to mind in droves, as if they wanted to come out all at once. How long ago all that was, and how many things had happened since then.

Looking absentmindedly at the coffee again, I let myself be carried away by those thoughts that flowed into my mind, the time that had passed since those days, when the only thing I thought about, like all my peers, was the weekend and how much fun it would be, without any other worries. It was good to study yes, but that was not very important at that time, because as a kid, studies are only part of the games.

Finally, I went to high school, and things changed. I had to take everything more seriously.

“Manu this is different, you can’t treat it like a game, you have to study hard to pass. Here they don’t give grades away, and if you have to re-take any subject in September, you’ll spend all summer studying, punished without going out,” my father told me very seriously that day.

I knew my father, and I knew that when he said something, he meant it, so I made it my purpose to never miss a class and to behave myself. With that, I thought I would be fighting half the battle and with a little more effort, I would have the school year completed successfully. That was preferable to killing myself studying.

Of course, such actions performed as a young man so as not to lift a finger are so thoughtless. How ignorant I was that the better prepared you are, the easier it will be to move forward in life.

“You can’t get lost time back.” I never really knew what that meant, but my grandfather was convinced that sayings contained truths and he used them all the time.

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I took the cup of coffee; it was cool enough not to burn me. I had to get on with the task that had been imposed upon me, it was essential that I pick up the paper trail. Slowly, I took a sip while looking at the table, at that note that I had received in such a strange way. I mean I was used to strange things, but I had never had an envelope slid under my door before, who could it have been?

I had to verify the information, I couldn’t trust anything or anyone. From experience, I had already figured out that someone, I’m not sure who, was determined to get me to drop all of this and let it go, and what was happening in reality was that I was becoming increasingly interested in it. I had to get to the bottom of the matter and discover the truth.

Walking briskly, I went over to the library, it had just opened. I had watched from the place where I was sitting drinking my coffee, indeed I had chosen that location for that reason. From there, I had a perfect view of the door to the place where I could find the long-awaited answer. Why with as many libraries as there might be, would they have chosen this one?

As I am very curious, I was sure that at some point I would have the answer to that question, but right now it was not essential. Finding the document was the important thing, but now I was realizing:

How would the anonymous author of the sealed letter know that I was looking for that document? How strange! I didn’t think I had mentioned it to anyone, all this seemed too coincidental.

I left the heavy door of the library behind me, but not before admiring it first. What a piece of work it was! What an artist it was who had constructed it! Even with the time that must have passed since then, everyone could admire the beautiful figures that were created by the hands of the craftsman. People might not know who he was, but his work was visible, within the reach of all eyes. Would he have thought at the time he was creating it about the amount of people who would admire it and about the amount of time that his work would endure? Would he have thought about how many things that enormous door would lock behind it? The door of a library, where so much wisdom is stored. How important it is, and we pass through it, almost without realizing it.

I arrived at the counter, where a friendly lady asked me what I wanted to see. Still contemplating the craftsman of that amazing door, I didn’t notice her when she said, “Good morning,” nor did I hear the question that she had asked me when she saw me arrive.

“What a piece of work!” I said absent-mindedly, without realizing that someone was listening to me.

“What did you say? What do you mean?” she said with a look of surprise.

“Sorry, I was thinking about something else. May I consult a book?” I asked, returning to the matter that had brought me there.

“That’s what I’m here for, to provide the desired information to those who need it,” she responded with a smile. “If you tell me what it’s about and if we have it, I can tell you where it is.”

“Well, the thing is, I don’t know. I’m looking for something, where could I find it?” I said a little quieter, as if I were ashamed, because she was listening to me when I said it, and she saw how awkwardly I was expressing myself, the nerves that I felt wouldn’t even let me speak properly.

“If you can give me a hint, I’m sure I can help you,” she said smiling.

“The Secrets of Fatima,” I said promptly, looking at the floor without daring to look at her.

“It’s on my nightstand,” she answered immediately without stopping to think.

I was amazed by her response, I looked her up and down, trying to analyze her. “What a way to get my attention!” I thought.

No, she didn’t seem like one of those girls who like to be noticed, she had the appearance of a serious person, at least from the way she dressed. She wore a gray pleated skirt and a sweater that was also gray, but of a darker shade, with her hair pulled back in a bun. She wore no makeup, which gave the impression that she was a formal and educated person. I didn’t understand why she had given me that answer, which I considered so strange and inappropriate.