Fatima: The Final Secret. Juan Moisés De La Serna

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      I started reading that book in my hands with curiosity to see what happened, I had liked the ending. It was a study, conducted by an author who self-identified as an atheist. That was curious, that made two of us who were interested in that topic, because the rest of the books were either written by priests, or by journalists who were very personally involved in the subject for religious reasons. That was what had made me decide upon these two that I had brought with me.

      One seemed scientific, with dates of the event and almost no additional comments to divert attention away from the occurrence itself. This was the one I had in my hands, which purported to be, according to its synopsis, an aseptic, in-depth study of “The Great Deception that Surrounded the Entire Subject and Discovering the Reasons Behind it.” Although those words written there seemed a little harsh in my view, deep down I did agree with them.

      If you really want to analyze a subject, you cannot take part in it. Feelings or beliefs should never be involved, just a study of the facts and nothing else. That’s what I had proposed from the beginning, to try to collect as much information as possible and then collate it thoroughly, and write a paper on it.

      I wasn’t sure why I wanted to do it, but I had to continue, because it was getting interesting.

      I kept remembering the amount of documentation that I had found when I’d first started looking, and without the need to leave my hometown, but I was determined to travel, if necessary, to continue finding more material on the subject.

      I had to get up to turn on the light. The sun had gone, I don’t know how, or when, I hadn’t been aware of the passage of time, what I was reading was so interesting that it had flown past, as they say.

      First I turned on the ceiling lamp, stretched my arms a little and thought, “I’m going to make myself a sandwich and I’ll continue reading for a while, I don’t really plan to go out,” the weather didn’t really invite it. In addition to the fine rain that we usually always have in Santiago, there was an unpleasant breeze blowing today, the kind that gets right into your bones.

      After a visit to the bathroom, I quickly made a sandwich with the first things I found, a slice of bread with chorizo sausage, that would surely be delicious. The truth is that I don’t have any aversions to anything, everything seems great when it’s time to eat. Well, if I did have any aversions, I don’t know what they would be to, because I’m forever eating.

      I didn’t have the patience to eat the whole thing and after a few mouthfuls, I looked back at the book. Leaving what I still had in my hands on the napkin, I continued, engrossed in my reading. It was so novel and so interesting that before I realized it, it was morning, or rather, the alarm clock sounded.

      I got freaked out, that could not be the time. Yes, I’d been reading all night and not only that, but looking at the table, I saw that more than half a sandwich was still sitting there, just left on top of the napkin. “How could I have left it sitting there unfinished and not even noticed?” I asked myself in surprise.

      Closing the book quickly, I almost ran to the shower. I had to get a move on if I didn’t want to be late for work, but even though I was a little tired, the truth was that it was worth spending the time reading that book.

      It’s really quite amazing how the work of some people can in turn make it easier for others to get on with their own. I’d been receiving all that information compiled by the author through his trips to so many different sites, and however many interviews he’d conducted to find out so much, while I was seated comfortably absorbing the knowledge.

      If I’d been determined to dedicate my time and my efforts to illuminating the truth before, a truth that seemed increasingly likely to have been concealed, now, I suddenly found myself with a huge desire to see where all this took me.

      Up to that point, Fatima was just a more or less meaningless word to me, a place that had been, and which still was, important to many people, although it had never interested me personally. Now I found myself becoming increasingly interested in the place.

      I wanted to know why there was so much mystery surrounding something that should be simple. If there were really seers and messages, why were they not available to anyone who wanted to know what they were, whether they were a believer or, as in my case, not?

      Firstly, it was out of curiosity, to substantiate my discovery, that secret of mine, which nobody knew, and that of the person who had left it hidden there, because if they had wanted it to be known, they would certainly not have chosen to keep it there in that secluded place.

      Thinking about it, why would they have done that? Couldn’t they have found a better place to leave something that important?

      This intrigued me right from the start, from the moment I scraped at the damaged wall, trying to fix it up a little, giving it a coat of plaster. I noticed that a brick had shifted, which made me take a closer look at it, because up to that point it had been just that, a wall that I had to scrape so I could then apply some patches and then paint it to make it look decent. It was certainly not decent-looking when I’d found it, and if that wall could speak, it could tell me how many years it had been standing there without anyone spending any time maintaining it, that’s how bad it was.

      “What am I saying? If the wall could speak!” That word made me reflect. That was undoubtedly what the wall had done, it had spoken to me through what I’d found. How would they have taken the brick out at the time? How had they been able to carefully place that behind it? And how could it have been preserved over all this time?

      When I’d taken out the little package, the fabric that was wrapped around it was very damaged, because it had absorbed all the moisture and thus protected the contents, which were still in perfect condition.

      I remember that I was going to look at what it was more closely, when I heard my companion who was shouting, calling out to me:

      “Manu, it’s time for sandwiches, come on, you can get back to it afterwards, it’s time to rest for a while.”

      Fearing that he would come into the room where I was, I tried to quickly store what I had just found in the back pocket of my pants, but seeing that it wouldn’t fit no matter how much I pushed it, I unfastened two of my buttons, carefully placed it under my shirt and put on my sweater, which I’d brought with me and sat down there on the floor in one corner. That was how I went out to join the others, have my sandwiches and chat for a while. And so we rested and talked about how each of us were doing in the tasks we had been assigned.

      “What’s up Manu?” the others asked when they saw me appear.

      “Well, I’ve been peeling the wall and removing all the bits that are coming loose, but I think we’re going to have to repair the whole thing, it’s in a really sorry state,” I said, taking a bite out of the mouth-watering sandwich I had in my hands, which Simón had just given me.

      “You’re so lucky!” Blas told me. “Today I have to repair the roof, that’s much more difficult.”

      “Do you need any help?” I asked him, but I was hoping he would answer me that he didn’t, I just said it in the spirit of compromise. I’ve never liked heights, but I thought it would be nice to offer my assistance.

      “No, I can do it on my own for now, but I’ll call you if I need you,” he answered me.

      When we were finishing up with our sandwiches, a few drops of rain began to fall, and when I saw that, I said to Blas:

      “Looks СКАЧАТЬ