Fatima: The Final Secret. Juan Moisés De La Serna
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would get between us and say:
“That’s enough, everyone eats their own food, case closed.”
Leaving a piece of her snack as soon as my mother left, she would hand it to me and say:
“Let’s see if this’ll make some of your bones less noticeable.”
I was delighted that she would give it to me, I don’t remember ever saying no.
CHAPTER 5.
A mild ache in my belly reminded me that I hadn’t eaten anything for a long time. At that moment, I suddenly heard a noise and I said to myself, “What’s that sound? It sounded like someone was raising a metal shutter, the kind they have in some stores. Let’s see if I’m lucky and it’s a coffee shop or something. Whatever it is, at this point I’ll settle for anything, sweet or savory, it’s all the same to me, but I can’t hold out much longer without getting a bite to eat,” I thought, “I’m going to end up fainting.”
Getting up from those stones that I’d spent such a long time sitting on, and becoming aware of some pain in my buttocks, caused by the discomfort of my seat, I headed toward the place where I thought that sound had come from.
I was walking slowly, my legs seemed to be half asleep because of the way they’d been positioned, when I suddenly saw a girl walking a dog. She was calling it beautiful and other things that I found amusing.
Why do people imagine that animals are listening to them? I have stopped to think about that at times. I had a neighbor who lived alone, and with the idea of keeping loneliness at bay, or so he told me, he bought a puppy. It was a tiny little thing, a Chihuahua, I think it’s called. If you weren’t careful, you could step on it, and when I would meet him on the porch as he was coming in or setting out for a walk, my neighbor would tell me:
“Manu, you have no idea how good company he is.”
Smiling and doubting his words, I would leave and hear him talking to his dog as I walked away.
“Let’s go here or there, I know you like it there,” he would say to the dog.
How did he know what his dog liked? What an imagination. Well, this girl was so entertained talking to her dog, that when I said, “Hi,” having not seen me approach, she was startled, so I immediately added:
“Don’t be afraid, I just wanted to ask you if you knew where there was a coffee shop that would be open at this time.”
After her fright, she had pulled on the dog’s chain and placed him between us, to defend her. She made a gesture with a shrug of her shoulders to show that she hadn’t understood me, which made me realize that I had spoken to her in Spanish.
I immediately said the same thing in Italian, and when she heard it, smiling, she extended her arm and pointed to a place for me. I looked toward the place she had indicated and saw that the curtains were being drawn at that moment. Yes, that must have been the place where I had heard them raising the shutter earlier, I had no doubt. I thanked her and headed over there with long strides.
I pushed on that glass door and looking over near the windows, I saw that a waiter was finishing drawing the curtains, he still had the cord in his hands.
“Buongiorno, can you give me something to eat?” I asked immediately, trying to pronounce it properly and in a way that he would understand me. He didn’t react as that girl had just a moment ago.
Looking at me in surprise, he replied:
“We don’t have anything at all. This is a coffee shop, there is no food, we’re only just opening,” he told me in Italian of course, but speaking slowly. It was clear that he was used to talking to strangers, perhaps visitors from other countries, because he understood very well.
As I sat there at a table, I said:
“Whatever you have, cake, bread with butter or coffee with some cookies, whatever you want, but surely you have something in there that could placate my stomach,” and I put my hand on my stomach to make it clearer.
He didn’t seem to understand me as well that time, even though I had taken a lot of care when I said it, but turning around and without saying anything, he went into what I assumed must be the kitchen, and immediately came back out with a plate full of pastries.
My eyes widened when I saw that treat. Given my sweet tooth and the hunger I felt, surely I wouldn’t leave a single one.
I held back, but as soon as he left it on the table, I thanked him and took the first one, I wasn’t going to be fussy.
I reached out for the biggest one, which was decorated, it was covered in chocolate. I could not believe how lucky I was while I took my first bite. “Food finally,” I told myself.
I was like a little kid, but I was already feeling very faint, so I said to myself, “Why should I wait before I have more?” and when I’d finished with that one, I took another.
I was starting to eat that one when the waiter approached me. He was holding a cup of steaming hot coffee in his hand, which smelled… Aaah! It smelled so good! How wonderful! That made me forget all my aches and pains.
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Ever since my student days, coffee has been my drug of choice. I’ve never even considered trying any others, even though “certain companions” have invited me to on occasion, I have always been clear, no drugs. They bring a lot of problems, but I had never been able to resist coffee.
Of course I picked up the habit at home, with the coffee my mother made. I’ve never had any quite like it, and of course I dare say, knowing how much mothers love their children, none would consider giving their kids a substandard version of something.
Therefore, if she made me that delicious coffee every morning, well, it was sure to be a decent brew, not that she would give me a lot. Whenever she poured it for me, I would ask her for “one more little splash,” and she would top me up with a few more drops on top of what she had already given me, saying:
“That’s enough to keep you alert.”
That’s how I gradually fell in love with coffee and I’ve never gotten out of the habit. It’s not that I abuse it, but it’s true that I prefer it to anything else.
A warm sip of that coffee that the waiter had given me made me recall that now long ago day and that decision I had made. I had to learn everything I could about those three children, and about what really happened.
Surely they’ll all be stories whipped up by priests. They were Portuguese and when communism was introduced there, someone very smart must have said, “Let’s fight it,” and the plan was surprising at best, they would have to have had a lot of resources to implement it.
Because of what little information I’d been able to glean so far, led by my curiosity, there were people who really believed it, even that “the sun had danced”, what nonsense! How far did superstition go? How can you be deceived like this and believe that nonsense?
But I was ready and willing to discover the deception. I had no idea how difficult that would be, but I had nothing better to do. I would devote myself to it for as long as necessary, because when I set out to do something, I go all in to reach my goal.
On top of that, I had read something about the subject of Fatima, to try to understand “The Documents,” which I had hidden well. It was not until my first vacation, when I had more free time, that I thought I would devote a little time to that topic, to see what I could find out.
“I’m going to Portugal for a few days,” I told my family.
“Son, when did you make that decision? Why so suddenly? Has something happened that you don’t want to tell us about?” asked my surprised mother.
“Mom, I’m older now,” I replied with affection, “it’s high time I made a move and learn something for myself.”