Fatima: The Final Secret

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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, now I would be…, I don’t know, working somewhere, in a factory, at sea on a fishing boat, or maybe in the field, for all I know.

I don’t know, but I don’t imagine it was easy for them to decide that I should study. Yes, I know my father had done it, but with five children, the simplest thing for him to have done would have been to say, “Manu we need one more salary in this house, there are many mouths to feed,” but instead, he had said, “Study, so that in the future you can raise your own family with a higher standard of living, without problems, having a good job.”

I don’t understand much of what they tell me at times, I think because I don’t think too much about “Grown-up things,” as I call them, but now in the solitude of the car, where I had to make all the decisions, nobody could help me. I had to take a route that was not very good in some sections, but that forced me to be attentive, and if something unexpected happened, I had to make my own decision, I couldn’t check with anyone. I felt older, but I think deep down I wasn’t prepared to live a more grown-up life yet, everything was very complicated.

The car suddenly started making a weird noise. I didn’t take much notice at first, but after a while I started to worry about it.

“What could have happened to it? If he were here, Dad would know what was wrong right away,” I told myself. I stopped at the roadside for a short time, and I went down to take a look at the wheels to see if there were any flat tires. I didn’t see anything unusual and I got back into the car and continued along the road. The noise continued and I was getting nervous. I opened the window a little more to see what it was, and listened carefully. The noise had stopped, surely not, what could it have been?

I closed the window again, and still the sound was gone. Suddenly I realized, the window had been open just a tiny bit. I opened it just a fraction and the noise started again. What a relief! I’d finally located where that wretched and annoying sound had come from, it was the glass window vibrating when it wasn’t fully closed, so I calmed down and continued on the way to my destination, it was still a long way away.

When I was passing through Pontevedra, already having decided that I was going to continue on to Fatima, I still knew that I had a lot of open road ahead of me, but for me, getting as far as I had was already a joy in itself. I felt that I would be able to make it, I was already feeling more confident. I even started to go a little more swiftly, stepping on the gas a little more because before it felt like I was in competition with a turtle. Some of the trees by the side of the road had passed so slowly that I’m almost certain I wouldn’t have passed them any faster if I’d been walking.

“Manu, you’ll never arrive at this rate, it’s one thing to drive with caution and another to go so slowly that it’s going to be night time by the time you reach customs and you’ll find it closed,” I thought at one point.

My legs hurt, I couldn’t go any further, but I wanted to reach the point that my father had indicated. He had calculated the route and divided it into stages, so that I could rest every so often and he had warned me, saying:

“Every time you stop, look at the little fuel needle. You should never neglect it, if you don’t give the car a drink, it’ll leave you stranded and you won’t be able to continue.”

I made it an obsession. I looked and looked at the little needle, and since I didn’t see it change, I wondered, “What if it’s broken and it leaves me high and dry in the middle of nowhere? Even though I have some names here, I don’t know how far I am from any town.”

Finally, I saw a sign that filled me with joy: “Spanish Border.” Why would it say that? Everyone passing this way on this side of the border already knows they’re on Spanish soil, it’s obvious that it’s the border of Spain. At last I had reached it, I was about to enter Portugal. I assumed that they would also announce that we were at the “Border of Portugal” on their side, and I thought, “What now? Nothing Manu, just go ahead.” When I handed my papers to the border guard, he looked at me and asked me if I was going alone.

As the question surprised me, I must have had a strange expression on my face or something, because he immediately asked me:

“Is der someting wrong frien?”

But since I didn’t understand him very well, I had to ask him to repeat himself, and I asked him:

“Where are you from? You’re not Galician are you?”

He laughed and told me he was Andalusian:

“No, not Galician.”

“From where?” I asked, out of courtesy, aware of how many hours they spend there alone.

“From a real’ small town called Roquetas del Mar in da province of Almeria,” he replied.

I tried to remember, because at that moment I couldn’t quite recall where it was, but it seemed to me that it was in the South so I said:

“You’re kind of far from home.”

“Der’s a funny side to what dey command,” he said in his peculiar accent.

“And what’s that?” I asked him.

“Well, for dat reason, sendin’ me to the other side of the country, der’s nowhere furder away, what dya tink?” he said looking annoyed.

“You’ll not be able to see your family often then,” I said, because I didn’t know what else I could talk to him about.

“What are ye sayin’ man? I’ve been here for two years witout bein’ able to go down, what dya tink ‘o’ dat?”

“What do you mean by go down?” I asked surprised. I wasn’t really getting any of what he was saying.

“Well, jus’ dat, if we’re up here, my land will be down der, come on, I tell ya!”

“I still couldn’t quite understand him with that strange accent, but looking like a prankster, he laughed, and repeated:

“Up and down, it soun’s loike a game for chilren. So, wher are ye goin’? Is it that you’re not satisfoid wit’ Spain and yer off to anoder country? Surely ye don’ know my part of Spain,” he said to me. He seemed to want to keep talking.

“No, you’re right,” I replied.

“Well before ye get goin’ somewhere else, maybe you should get to know our own place. Look, I’m not one for showin’ off, but there ain’t nothin’ like my Andalusia.”

And he kept talking and talking. Uncertain about how to get out of this, my gut was telling me, “He’s not going to tire of this and let me continue on my way.”

And he went on saying to me:

“Why dontya take the cer and make for Andalusia? You’ll see such lan’scapes and places that they don’ have der in Portugal.”

“Do you know Portugal?” I asked him.

“Not at all, mid-air!” he told me. “What for? I’m satisfoid enough wit’ Spain and I’d loike to get to know da whole ting, I was at anoder border post for five yers.”

“Where?” I asked trying to be polite.

“Well, it wer real’ different from dis, der was no way to rest der, trucks and cers were always passin’ by, and they never stop comin’ even at lunchtime.”

“But where was it?” I asked again.

“On da French boarder, Hendaye it were called, such a cute name,” he replied.

“But I’m sure it’s better here,” I said.

“Yes, true dat, I can certainly assure ye, and listen, I love it so much I’ve even married one ‘o’ ya,” the man was telling me.

“Really?” I said a little incredulous. “How did you manage that? Well, Galician girls are known far and wide, when it comes to sweetness, no one beats them, they have that reputation.”

“And dis one is, so I couldn’t let her get away,” he said to me very excitedly.

As it was clear that he wasn’t going to stop, because I think what was going on was that he was bored and had found a captive audience to listen to him, I said:

“Hey, how far is it from here to Lisbon?”

“You’re going there?” he asked me surprised. “Well a good ole long way, and why are ye going der?”

I was getting tired of people asking me that and I must have frowned at him.

He noticed and returned the documents to me, adding:

“Sorry for me lack ‘o’ tact. Bye. Be careful on da road now ye hear? And remember dat der in Portugal, dey fine ye for everyting, have a good day.”

“I’m sure they will if I do something wrong, but I don’t intend to. Thanks, I’ll be very careful,” and with that I left.

Already a little more confident, I continued until I arrived at Fatima, with nothing else in my head but the matter that had brought me there: to find something here that I was looking for.

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I had gotten up early. I didn’t need to touch the alarm clock. My body clock, as they call it, was accurate. When it reached five o’clock, I already had one eye open, although when it was a holiday or I was on vacation and didn’t have to do anything, I stayed in bed a little longer.

That never stopped me from being an early riser though, that has been my habit since my student days, when I would get up to spend some time reviewing the lessons we had in advance so I could attend having recently read them.

I have subsequently continued to do the same thing in life, because whenever I’ve had to do something, when I start it early, it seems that I get more out of the day. I also had the habit of taking a siesta after lunch, only for half an hour, but enough to rest and get up with new strength for everything that I had left to do that day.

Before leaving the guest house, I would have a fleeting breakfast, something I had learned how to do the day before. They told me that it didn’t matter that I was going out at such early hours, that they always left some cookies and a coffee pot with warm coffee prepared in case anyone ever needed it, as well as a jug of cold milk, in case they didn’t want to drink the coffee black.

They also let me know where I could find it, because it wasn’t in the dining room, since it was still closed at that time. It was down a hallway, toward the middle of it. There was a broad area there, it looked as if it had been built specifically for that purpose.

I headed for that hallway very early and I immediately saw the table all set up. It was round, the kind of table they call a Camilla table. It was covered with red fabric and a white tablecloth, with a brazier underneath it to keep everything warm. On top of it, in one corner, was the coffee pot and next to it, a jug of milk covered with a crocheted doily, those that I knew well from my grandmother’s house, work that she loved. There were little pieces she had made throughout her whole house. Well, they were in mine as well, because on every birthday she managed to bring a new one, for a coffee table or to throw over a chair, saying that the one we had was already very worn.

I took a glass from among those that were sitting there upside down on a tray and I poured myself a coffee, and then a little milk and two teaspoons of sugar, as was my habit. I never took a coffee without them, even though it made Chelito say that I was the greediest in the house. I took two cookies and drank my coffee, almost in a single mouthful. It went down so well, so warm, then I left nibbling at the cookies.

I went out into the street and saw no one there. It didn’t surprise me at that hour, everyone would be asleep. What’s more, the door could only be opened from the inside, so there was no need for anyone to be on duty, people could only leave, no one could enter.

I opened it very carefully so as not to make any noise. I didn’t want to disturb anyone, and I thought, “What if I want to get back inside, how would I manage that?” but I immediately dismissed the idea. “Such folly, this is exactly what I wanted, to see everything quiet at this time, with not a soul to bother me, because everyone will be sleeping and the place will be empty.”

I found myself on the street. A drizzling rain was falling, and I said to myself, “Well, it doesn’t matter, I know this kind of rain, it’s like ours in Santiago,” and I set out on my morning stroll.

I wandered about the streets a little absentmindedly. As I had imagined, the place was empty. It was still dark and there were barely any lights on. There were some, but they were so far apart from one another that I had to be very careful not to stumble over any stones that might be on the road that I would be unable to see. I didn’t want any surprises, so what was I thinking coming out so early? But it was too late to worry about that now.

As I was so distracted, I stepped in a big puddle, of course it was impossible to see anything, and I said to myself, “Well that’s a bad start,” but I continued walking. I could hardly stay there in the middle of it.

I went to a wider place, and I noticed that the ground was already much better, it was firmer and at least I could walk without having to take so much care.

A ray of light was creeping into the sky; it was already beginning to dawn. I was distracted contemplating that early morning light, we never really appreciate such things. It’s so important to be able to see and when we have enough light for it, we take it for granted and we don’t take it very seriously, but we sometimes have to see how difficult things can be when we lack enough light to see properly in order to appreciate it.

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I don’t know how long I was wandering around, but I certainly remember something that happened to me. In an instant I clearly saw three children there almost beside me, running around among some rocks. I looked more closely. There were two girls, one older than the other, and the other, who had quickly crouched down to hide, I couldn’t see properly.

It seemed very strange that they would be there at all, but I looked at them carefully, what strange clothes they were wearing, but I kept watching their games. Then came out the kid who had hidden behind the rock, and he was a boy. He said something funny and was laughing. I certainly didn’t hear it, but judging by the faces of the two girls, it must have been something they didn’t like.

I was still perplexed, watching what they were doing. I didn’t understand where they had come from, if I had been there alone and the entire place had been empty just a moment ago.

The three of them stopped near the biggest rock, and I saw the smallest of them, who from her face was clearly on the verge of tears, looking at her feet. That made me also look to see what had happened to her, and I could see that she had no shoe on one of them, she was only wearing what I assumed must have been her sock.

Approaching her and putting her hand on her shoulder, the older girl said something into her ear, and I saw how the little girl’s face changed. They both sat on the ground, and the older girl took off her shoe or slipper, I don’t know what to call it. They looked very unusual, very old, like those worn by people from the countryside. They had laces that were tied over the instep. I watched as the older girl took off her own, and gave it to the younger girl, who put it on, tied the laces and then ran away happily.

The boy then approached the stone where he had been hiding earlier, and pulled out something from behind it that I couldn’t really see at that moment. When he gave it to the older girl, I saw that it was the little girl’s shoe. With that little slipper in her hand, she called after her and I was amazed to hear her call her “Jacinta.”

What was going on? Surely it couldn’t be? But I was sure I’d heard it, it had not been my imagination.

I suddenly snapped back to reality. I was sitting on some rocks on a lonely path, but the sun was already breaking through the clouds and making its way past them. The rain had stopped and I could clearly see my surroundings full of puddles of the water that had been falling throughout the night, but the brightness of the sun indicated that today would be a good day.

Astonished and confused about what had just happened to me, I rubbed my eyes, and looked over at that place again, but there was nothing, only empty rocks and puddles on the ground. There was no one around, because I looked over at it several times.

There was nowhere for those children to hide, there was nothing there that all three of them could have hidden behind, the countryside around me was still empty. I was sitting there alone, confused, thinking about what I had just witnessed.

I couldn’t believe it, what could have happened to me? Right there in front of me, those children… What had just happened? I couldn’t understand it, they had suddenly disappeared as quickly as they had appeared earlier and departed as if it had all been a dream. From where I was, sitting on a big stone, alone, I looked around and saw that there was no one.

The countryside spread out on all sides waiting for the sun to rise. I noticed the smell of wet grass, but nothing more, no trace of those little ones who I had been able to observe running around right there right next to me only a moment ago.

I got up from my makeshift seat, and took a few steps. I wanted to understand what had happened, nothing seemed out of place, nothing appeared to have changed, but, what about… Yes, given what I’d just seen, where were all the other stones? I had seen more stones around this one, I think the largest was about the same size as the one I had been sitting on, the one behind which the boy had hidden.

Everything had been so real, I couldn’t believe it. I was… I wasn’t scared, no, I would sooner say… exhilarated, filled with such a strange feeling, and at the same time so… I don’t know how I could describe it, but I did feel a desire to repeat it again.

Hesitating, I thought “What do I do?” and between fearful and cautious, I sat down on the stone once again, this time making sure my eyes were wide open.

I saw how the sun’s rays were approaching and the light of the new day was overwhelming the place. That made me feel a little more at ease.

“Now I’m ready,” I thought, “let’s see what happens?” I don’t know how long I sat there, entertained watching the drops of water shimmer on the little blades of grass that were growing near my feet, and nothing happened, nothing at all. I waited for another little while, which seemed never-ending. The sun was now shining on my face and I decided to leave it.

I was already beginning to hear some noises. Perhaps they had already been there, but I hadn’t registered them. A rooster could be heard singing in the distance, and smiling I said to myself, “That bird must have gone back to sleep, what sort of time is this to warn that the sun is rising? It’s already been up for ages.” I continued walking along the still deserted path, when I saw two men in the distance, coming from the opposite direction, with some beasts of burden.

Surely they must be going to work and I thought, “What will they think of me? They’ll wonder what I’m doing here,” and without giving it any more thought, I greeted them as they passed: