Dr. Juan Moisés De La Serna
Fatima: The Final Secret

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.

<<<<< >>>>>

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.”

“No, it’s not that I object, but tell me, what part of Portugal will you go to?” she asked in a worried tone.

“I think I’ll go to Fatima,” I said, lowering my voice.

“Whaaat?” said Carmen, “to Fatima? Did I just hear you properly? What business do you have going to Fatima?”

“Well, to Lisbon,” I adjusted quickly.

“I thought I heard you say you were going to Fatima,” she said with a smile. “Will it not be to pray, to get rid of those weird ideas in your head?”

“What are you talking about?” I asked seriously. “We all have the freedom to believe in whatever we want.”

My father, who certainly had an opinion on a matter like that, even if it was not the same as mine, intervened and said:

“Yes Manu, believe, if you can, in whatever you want, in something that’s not right and which I think even goes ‘against nature.’ I didn’t know then what it meant, to not believe, to question everything and to have such absurd ideas, but how can there not be a God who created us, who created everything? That’s impossible.”

“Dad,” I said, “let’s drop the subject, we’ve already discussed many times. You have your ideas, and I have mine, and I don’t think I’m hurting anyone thinking the way I do, and Mom, rest assured that I’ll be careful and nothing bad is gonna happen to me,” I said when I saw how her expression had changed when that topic of conversation had come up.

My mother, who didn’t want to talk about it either, said:

“Do you know that the twins have written?”

“Really? And what did they say?” Carmen asked very quickly, because she wanted to move away from the subject too.

“Well, that they’re doing very well at camp, that they swim a lot and that they’re training for a competition. They both say they’ll win.”

“Well, as always,” said my father, interrupting her, “they’ll have to give the trophy to both of them and they’ll have to share it. In reality that won’t be difficult because they sleep in the same room.”

“Well, I wonder,” said Chelito, “why don’t they each focus on something different?”

“But darling,” said Mom, “that’s impossible, they always have to do everything together.”

“No, I know that they were born together, but at some point they’ll have to realize that they have to do things separately, otherwise when they get older, will they also marry the same woman? I think that with that condition, no one will want them.”

Laughing at the remark, we finished the meal, but after having been in my room for a little while, I heard some tapping on the door. I was surprised because I hadn’t heard any footsteps in the hall.

“Yeees?” I said.

“Can I have a moment?” I heard quietly.

“Sure,” I answered. “Come in, come in, what do you want?”

Opening the door just a little, Carmen slipped inside:

“You don’t fool me you know. What are you looking for in a place like Fatima?” she asked, and then she said, “Look me in the eye and answer me, are you questioning something about religion at this point? You can count on me brother, you know that, right?”

“No!” I said in a serious tone. It seemed to just come out of me and I raised my voice a little.

“Alright, don’t be like that, don’t get angry, just acknowledge that what you said is very strange, that the one time you go on your own vacation, you’ve chosen to go there,” she told me.

“Well, it’s not the first time I’m leaving home on my own. Besides, what do you care where I’m going?”

“Why wouldn’t I care? I’m your big sister and I know it’s not the first time to see you doing something on your own. I already know that, but the other times were different, you got up to those high jinks over your summer breaks, to ‘help out in your own way,’ as you put it when you didn’t want to give us any further explanation.”

“What’s wrong? Can I not do what I want now? Didn’t I go to Paris?” I said a little nervously.

“Yes,” she answered immediately, “Paris, you were so lucky! I remember it well, but you weren’t alone, I think you were four, right? I think it’s great that you’re going where you want, I just wanted to know why this time was different, it just surprised me, that’s all.”

Not wanting to give her any more information, I said:

“Go on, leave me be, I have to study. I’ve got a final exam tomorrow and it’s gonna be pretty hard.”

“Alright, but when you come back from your trip, you have to tell me what you’ve seen, okay?”

“Okay,” I said so she would drop the subject, and saying goodbye, she left the room.

I looked at the closet. Fortunately, no one knew what I had hidden there. They would have asked me so many questions if they did. I would’ve had to give them so many explanations, and say to them, “Please don’t tell anyone,” so many times.

It was better this way, with only me knowing. I would share it with them some day, when I was clear on the matter, when I had discovered the reasons why that person had hidden it in that place.

<<<<< >>>>>

On my second day of being in Fatima, a very strange impulse within me compelled me to head to a solitary place. I let myself be carried away. For some time, I had stopped wondering about certain things that happened to me, and my curiosity made me follow those impulses. I knew that what happened next was not by chance, because I’ve never believed in coincidences.

I walked slowly, as if I were waiting for something, but waiting for what? I didn’t know anyone there. I had only arrived yesterday, and nobody knew that I was there, because I hadn’t told any of my family the specific place where I was going to stay.

Surely they thought I would be staying in Lisbon and that was also what I had thought at first, but when I arrived here at Fatima and after driving around a little to take a look at the place, I saw that sign that said, “Quartos,” or “Rooms,” so I stopped the car and got out. I had to ask if there were any free rooms to spend the night. A man was standing there at the door to the place and approaching him, I asked about it.

“Yes son, there are still some left, they’re not exactly banging my door down, this place only fills up on special occasions, and now it seems that the weather isn’t bringing much business with it,” he answered before entering the building.

I turned around to properly park and lock the car, then I went back to the entrance and saw the man talking to a woman. They both looked over at me as I came in through the door, and the man left to go into another room, closing the door behind him as he went.

After greeting me, the lady asked me if I would stay that night. At that moment I was confused and answered:

“I don’t know!”

Opening her eyes wide, she said:

“Do you no longer want the room? What happened?”

“No, yes, I want it, but I don’t know if it’s only for one night or if I’ll stay for longer,” I answered.

“Ah, alright, don’t worry about that, stay as long as you want,” and she gave me a key. “Look at this one, it’s bigger than the others and you’ll get a better sleep,” she said putting a smile on her face.

“Can you tell that I’m tired?” I asked.

“Well, getting a little sleep is good for us all. I’ll prepare something for your dinner, you must be hungry, and it’ll do you some good to have eaten a little something before going to bed,” the woman was telling me with such confidence, as if she were a relative, even though we had only met just a few moments ago.

“Yes,” I said, “I’ve been driving for a long time, I didn’t want to arrive too late and find everything closed around here.”

“Alright, well, everything will be ready in half an hour,” she told me, “I’m running off to make it now.”

I went to the car, because I just remembered that in the rush, I hadn’t taken my luggage, and I took out a bag that I had prepared, with some clothes and shaving stuff. Although I didn’t really have much of a beard, one of my friends had told me that if I shaved every day, it would grow quicker and come in more, and I wanted to have a beard.

What’s more, I was determined that when it grew in properly, I would leave it, that would certainly give me a more serious look, because I was tired of everyone telling me I had a baby face. That made me mad, I at least wanted to look my age.

I went up to the room. Upon entering, I looked around to take it all in. It was a simple room, but everything was very clean, I liked it, I was sure I would get a good rest there.

I tossed the bag onto the bed, then I thought better of it and picked it back up, putting it on the table and I lay on the bed to stretch my body a little. I spent a little while there before going downstairs for dinner.

What she had prepared for me smelled so good! It was a vegetable soup, something indescribable. There were vegetables of all colors, but the taste was incredible!

I had to ask her how she had done it. I wanted to tell my mother so she could make it for me. I complimented her for it and she stared at me. At first I thought she hadn’t understood me correctly, but immediately putting on a broad smiling, she said:

“Son, it’s just a handful of vegetables from the garden, boiled in some water,” and smiling, she walked away saying: “That poor boy was so hungry, it looks like he hasn’t eaten all day.”

When I heard her, I thought she was referring to how quickly I had eaten it, right to the last spoonful of that course that had tasted so good.

The second course wasn’t long in coming, an omelet, from the smell of it, and again I got that impression that it was fresh food that was being prepared. I waited a little for it to cool down, and as I absently-mindedly split it with my fork, I thought, “Who would have told me that in this life it would have occurred to me to come to this place, with so many other places to see, and look at me now, here I am, let’s see what comes of it!” and thinking that the omelet had already cooled enough for me to eat it, I put a piece into my mouth:

“Ow!” I said in surprise, it was still too hot

Well thank goodness I was the only person in that dining room, something that I had verified with a quick glance to see if anyone had heard me.

No, nobody saw it. I waited a little longer and then I tasted that delight, omelet with asparagus, which surely was also from her garden. It was so delicious, and even I was thinking that, not being a great lover of vegetables, but I acknowledge that that night, everything was excellent. Perhaps it was because of the trip that had made me so hungry, and that I had long since finished the last sandwich my mother had prepared for me to eat, because I wouldn’t let her give me more, I thought I would have enough. Maybe it was the exhaustion or I don’t know. What I do know is that I did have to take a bite out of one of the sandwiches from time to time, which I’d put there next to me on the passenger seat, until I finished it and reached for the next one. I don’t think I was eating like that just out of hunger, but out of loneliness too.

“Be careful what you eat out there, you don’t know how it will be made,” my worried mother had told me while she gave them to me.

“Mother, relax. I’m sure that the Portuguese also know how to cook properly, though I’m sure not as well as you,” I said to try to get her to think of something else.

“Manu, be careful with the road too. Don’t rush, you know you’ll be safer if you drive slowly.”

That’s what I think was troubling her, but I was someone else in the car, I think I was cautious to the extreme. I didn’t like rushing, or exposing myself to any danger.

I had a lot of respect for the wheel, and my father also told me, “I’ll pay for your gasoline for now, but any fines you’ll pay yourself, because if you drive carefully, they’ll never impose one on you, as has happened to me. I’ve never once been fined.”

Lost in my thoughts, I hadn’t realized that I’d finished that delicious omelet. At that point, the lady came out through the door with dessert in her hand, a homemade flan, that was really too much for me, and I said:

“If you keep treating me this well, you’ll not let me continue my trip, I’ll have to stay here forever.”

“Well, I just want you to feel good, and that way you’ll remember us, and when you come back through here again, you’ll surely pay us a visit,” she said smiling.

“Certainly, you can be sure of that,” I said and began to taste that delicious flan, which was wobbling on the plate, just inviting me to eat it.

<<<<< >>>>>

I felt quite nervous during the first part of the night. Something was wrong, although I didn’t know what. It was impossible for me to fall asleep and I did nothing more than toss and turn in bed. It’s not that it was uncomfortable, it was quite the opposite, it was very comfortable. In fact, it had been a long time since I’d been lying in such a big bed, because it was a double, for which I thanked the owner of the place at that moment in my mind. I was certain that as she saw I was so tall she’d said to herself, “This one needs something big,” and that’s why she’d given me this room.

I blamed the problem on the fatigue of the trip, I had never driven so much. I was remembering reaching a certain point along the road where I’d stopped and gotten out to stretch my legs a little, and I’d been contemplating the landscape for a while.

I could see the Miño river, how full of water it was and how wide it was, I’d never seen anything like it and I liked what I was seeing. I noticed the island and the structure in the middle of it, I knew it was a prison and I wondered, “Who’s idea would it have been to build it there? It would have been better to have built a hotel there with this landscape and the guests could have enjoyed the views.”

At that point, I was still not sure whether I should continue with the journey or not, I could still go back. I asked myself, “Why had I insisted that I had to go to that particular place? What did I want to find there?” and I told myself, “Well, seeing that I’ve come this far, I should continue, there’s no turning back now, let’s see what comes out of all this.”

Now that I was finally here and after that long journey I’d just made, I couldn’t forget that thought I’d had from there, looking out over the Miño. “If you had stopped before you got here, you’d not be here now,” I was saying to the water, and that made me continue, more emboldened. I was also going to continue on my way to see where it took me. I got back into the car, started the engine and said:

“Thank you Miño for your boost,” and crossing the bridge, I didn’t hesitate again, “The die had been cast,” as they say. I would continue to the end, I had to see what destiny had in store for me.

<<<<< >>>>>

I had taken out two books, those that seemed the most interesting. “It would be quieter here,” I thought, leafing through them as I used to do whenever a book fell into my hands. I had the habit of taking a look at the whole thing first, to see the chapters. I used to read the last page too, although someone had told me:

“That’s how you take away the fun.”

I’d been doing it that way since my sister Carmen once told me:

“Manu, when you know the ending, you read it more carefully.”

I think of her all the time, but that’s because she’s older than me, she taught me so many of the things that I know. It is true of course that my parents tell me things, but being parents, there is a lot they don’t take into account.

What are they going to tell me? Just adult things, but what my sister told me was different, she had always taken care of me, and her advice came in handy. When I followed it, which wasn’t always I’ll be honest, because I’m a little stubborn, but when I did pay attention to what she told me, I could generally see that she was right.

She helped me with my homework, and helped me get good grades, because she always added some example for me, with which I could then show off in class, because my classmates didn’t know it.

That was the advantage of having an older sister and one that was so smart. I could ask her about things, and she would know the answer.

She was two years above me in school, and since she was very studious, she’d always gotten the best grades in her class.

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: