Fatima: The Final Secret. Juan Moisés De La Serna

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Fatima: The Final Secret - Juan Moisés De La Serna


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me.

      “How could my father have let me take that trip?” Remembering that long ago day, I still wonder to this day. He has always been very cautious and has never let us do anything that could be risky. Even if I had to hammer a nail into the wall, he would say:

      “Give it here! I’ll do it, surely you’ll hit your finger with the hammer.”

      “Honey!” said my mother whenever she would hear him, “if you don’t teach him, he’ll never know how to do anything.”

      “He’ll learn when he’s a grown-up,” he said smiling.

      “But Dad, when will I be a grown-up in your eyes? I’m taller than you, and I’m almost two meters tall,” I would say when I heard him say that I wasn’t old enough to do something yet.

      “Well, the fact that you’re tall doesn’t mean that you’re a grown-up, that’s not the same thing,” he would answer me. The conversation would be over and he wouldn’t explain anything further to me.

      “Gramps! When was my father a grown-up?” I once asked my grandfather.

      “Ah, have we reached this point already? Seems to me that I’m the grown-up here,” he answered jokingly.

      “Well, if Dad’s not old enough, I’m screwed. I’m never going to be grown-up,” I said.

      “And why do you want to be a grown-up so badly?” my grandmother, who was there and who had been listening to us, asked me.

      “Well, so I can do stuff without anyone telling me that I can’t, because I’m not old enough,” I answered very seriously.

      “Ah, that’s why? Then, you’ll never be old enough. There will always be someone by your side to tell you that, even if it’s the youngest among us, like Chelito. Don’t you see how she talks to me sometimes? Telling me not to carry my bag, and she takes it from me, and then she scolds me as if I were a little girl.”

      “Nana, she does that for your own good, so you don’t hurt yourself, but that doesn’t mean you’re not old enough,” I said to my grandmother.

      “Are you calling me old?” she asked me, getting herself worked up.

      “No, why would I call you that?” Since I did not like the way the conversation was going, I dropped it, but I did not agree that I could never be a grown-up. I was older than the twins and Chelito, why didn’t anyone want to acknowledge it?

      <<<<< >>>>>

      Now, driving on my own, sitting at the wheel, traveling kilometer after kilometer, I did feel older, but what had it brought to my life? I don’t think it brought me any gains, it had only brought me problems. Well, it’s not that I can complain, but, for example, when it was my father who was driving when we were going to the beach, him behind the wheel, my grandfather by his side and the rest of us behind them, my grandmother with Carmen in her lap, Mom with Chelito, me in between the two of them and the two twins in the back of the car, sitting there very quietly, we all had confidence in Dad to get us there and that there was no danger, and we would even fall asleep. Well not everyone, I don’t think Carmen ever did, but I’m not sure, because I certainly did, right from the start of the journey until I heard my mother say:

      “Manu, wake up, we’re here.”

      What good times those were! Now, despite being tired, falling asleep was not an option. Who would keep me awake? Ah! and more importantly, who would be driving? That’s when I remembered what my father had told me:

      “Manu, as soon as you notice that you’re getting tired, stop and get out to stretch your legs, don’t fall asleep at the wheel.”

      “Dad!” I replied, “I’m not a little kid who falls asleep anywhere.”

      “Listen son! Things are different in the car, with the gentle noise of the engine you can get drowsy and fall asleep without even realizing it.”

      “Don’t worry Dad, I’ll be very careful,” I said and he smiled at me, I knew he would.

      “Look, I’ve made you a map with the route you have to take,” my father said, showing me a piece of paper he had placed on the table.

      “You what now?” I asked. “I already know where I have to go, relax.”

      “No! Listen to me, because the journey is so long, I’ve marked where you need stop, so that both you and the car can get some rest,” he insisted.

      “The car also gets tired?” asked Carlitos, who was listening very closely to what Dad was telling me, sitting there beside him.

      “Yes son!” Dad answered, looking at him. “The car is a machine that has its own needs and if it’s not taken care of, it breaks down and it’s no longer good for anything.”

      “Yes, you have to give it gas,” said my brother.

      “What? Do you think I don’t know that?” I replied quickly.

      “Yes, but on top of gas, there are lots of other things that you have to do to look after it; the mechanics, making sure that everything is good to go, that the air in the tires is alright and so on. You can’t just do whatever you want and you have to rest the engine, because if you don’t, it might overheat,” said my father very seriously. “You, Manu, follow these instructions and you’ll see that you won’t have any problems on your journey.”

      “I will Dad, don’t worry, I’ll take good care of it, you’ll see.” “I don’t want to disappoint you, you know that, and if I don’t do it well, I know you won’t let me take the car again.”

      “Hmm! That’s why you’d do it? No son, you have to do it for your own safety, so that nothing happens to you. You have to be aware that you’re putting your life in your hands and you can end it, and the lives of others on the road, with a single mistake.”

      “Dad, calm yourself, everything will be fine, trust me!” I told him.

      “If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t leave you with it. Do you think I want anything to happen to you? No son, never.”

      Now that I was thinking about this, I was realizing that I had just passed the signpost for one of the points that my father had indicated to me. I searched for a place to park and stopped there. We had to rest, both the car and I. I would take the opportunity to go for a short walk to stretch my legs and to eat a sandwich that my mother had prepared for me. Fortunately, it had been a while since the rain had stopped falling.

      I looked at the papers my father had prepared for me. I hadn’t realized when he gave them to me what was written down at the side. It read: “First stop, Padrón. Think about whether you want to continue son. I’m sure you’re tired, if you turn around now, we’ll say nothing more about it, give it some proper thought son.”

      I smiled. I saw that my father thought it was just an impulse, and that I would get tired quickly. I think he still hadn’t realized how stubborn I am when I set out to do something. I had thought out this trip very, very carefully and what it meant, and before deciding to take it, I had been thinking about all of the downsides. When I made the decision, it was already firm and I was not going to back down, so I ate the sandwich and I prepared to continue on with the next stretch of road in one go. I’ll see if I can get to Pontevedra, but my back was already telling me that I’d been sitting for a long time already, so I told myself: “Stick at it and don’t complain, there’s still a long way to go.”

      Back on the road, the day was glorious, the countryside was green, and I was becoming increasingly confident behind the wheel. In the distance, I saw people working the fields and I thought, “How can they endure hours and hours like that under the sun or in the rain? I complain about my work as a student, I really don’t appreciate how lucky I am,” and I sent thanks to my parents in a thought, because if they had decided differently for me,


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