Читать книгу Fatima: The Final Secret - Juan Moisés De La Serna, Dr. Juan Moisés De La Serna, Paul Valent - Страница 10

“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, 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.

<<<<< >>>>>

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.

<<<<< >>>>>

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:

“Bon día.”

They returned my greeting in the same manner and nothing more. It was the dog that accompanied them that wanted to be noticed, and spent a good amount of time barking, until one of the men, who must have been its owner, scolded it and it fell silent, and silence returned to the place, although only for a short time. The birds were already fluttering about, and even a child could be heard crying, surely that was his way of asking for his breakfast.

That was when I decided to go to the site of the apparitions. The weather was looking good and I wouldn’t have any problems getting there, but as I was lost in thought, turning what had just happened to me over and over in my mind, I didn’t realize that I was no longer alone and I was surprised to hear there beside me that someone was asking me a question:

“Are you going to Mass? If you don’t go a little quicker, you’ll be late.”

I came out of my thoughtful state, and saw two ladies hurriedly overtaking me, so I didn’t have time to answer them as they continued on their way.

I thought to myself, “Do I look like I’m on my way to church? They could hardly be more wrong. Of course there were not many other places that they might think I was going to wandering around here.”

I spent the rest of my time walking around, I wanted to see those places that I almost knew already because I had read so much about them. They had of course changed a great deal since the events had actually occurred. The passage of time is certainly not forgiving.

Instead of having deteriorated as usually happens at other sites, what had happened here is that many of them now had new structures.

I walked slowly, I wanted to feel the air, to smell what they smelled, I wanted to try to relive what I had seen and maybe to understand it.

As time passed, I grew more confused. I certainly did not doubt that what had happened to me had been real. But why me? I don’t believe in any of that, I just want to find evidence to prove that it was all a lie, that someone had orchestrated something that still evades my understanding and that tricked some innocent kids, so how could I possibly have seen them if two of them died a long time ago? From what I’ve since discovered, the third kid also died many years ago, although I have to study that controversy more thoroughly to see if I can clarify anything from it.

I suddenly noticed a sensation in my stomach, and when that happens to me, I know it’s my body warning me, and I feel that it’s telling me, “Manu, it’s time to eat, and if you don’t, you can’t go on much further.”

I was surprised. I didn’t think it was so late. I headed back to my accommodation, and when I entered through the door, the owner came toward me when he saw me.

“Hey there!” he said and immediately asked me: “What happened to you this morning? My wife put out breakfast on your table and seeing that time passed and you didn’t come down, she was alarmed that something might have happened to you, so she made me go up to your room.”

“‘It’s strange that he’s fallen asleep until so late,’ she said to me very seriously. ‘Go and see if he’s alright, or if he needs anything.’”

“I protested though. I told her that when you arrived last night, you were clearly very tired, but she insisted so much that I had to go open your door, and what a surprise I got when I saw your room was empty. When I got back down I told her, ‘He’s not in his room, could he have left without paying?’”

“‘Has the bed been slept in? Has he taken his things?’”

“Well, I don’t know what else she would have went on asking me if I hadn’t cut her off, reassuring her saying, yes he’s slept in it, it shows in the bed, and he’s left a bag on the chair, I suppose it must be his.”

“‘Oh good! What a fright,’ she said, calming down a little.”

“‘But a fright from what? Come on, don’t be silly,’ I told her, ‘he’ll have gone out early, he’ll be one of those people who like to get up early to see the sun rise,’ I said, thinking you’d be around here somewhere nearby.”

“‘Come on! If he’d opened the window and ran off, I would have seen him leave without having to get out of my bed,’ she answered.”

I interrupted him at that point and asked him:

“Don’t tell me I can see the sunrise from my bed?”

“Yes,” he said very seriously, “and where did you have breakfast?”

he asked me with a tone in which I noticed his concern. I kept talking:

“Well, you were right, I went to see what the dawn was like, but tomorrow I’ll watch it from my bed, which is more comfortable and that way I won’t get cold, because this morning the air froze my face,” I was saying with the intention of ending the chat so I could go on up to my room.

“You have to be careful, when the breeze blows here, you really feel it. Alright, but you’ve not answered me yet,” he said very seriously.

“Answered what?” I asked in surprise. I didn’t know at that moment what he was referring to.

“Where did you have breakfast?” he asked in a worried tone.

“Well, I haven’t had it yet, although… Ah yes!” I remembered at that moment, “I had some coffee and some cookies before I left,” I answered, smiling to calm him down.

“What did you say? Come eat quickly, you must be starving.”

Almost pushing me, he led me to the dining room. I glanced around and saw that there were two ladies sitting there despite how late it was, and they were talking to the man’s wife, the other owner.

“Excuse me,” he said as soon as we entered, “this man comes hungry, you have to take care of him.”

Apologizing to the two ladies who were there eating something that I couldn’t identify, his wife turned around and went into what I assumed must have been the kitchen.

“Good morning! Excuse me,” I said, “what is it that you’re eating there? It smells so good”

Looking at me, one of them answered with a smile:

“And it tastes even better, believe me.”

I went to sit at a table close to where they were seated. The rest of the dining room was empty and I didn’t want to be so alone. I’d been on my own the whole time I’d been walking around without talking to anyone and I wasn’t going to clear up many questions that way. I saw that they’d not minded that I had sat close to them, so once I sat down I asked them:

“So where are you both from?”

“From Spain, well from Madrid,” replied the one who seemed older.

“I never would have guessed,” I replied, “you speak Portuguese very well.”

“And where are you from? You don’t seem like you’re from around here either,” she asked me.

“No, I’m not from Portugal, I’m Galician, from Santiago de Compostela,” I answered.

“Also Spanish, well you can’t tell, you also speak Portuguese very well.”

“Well, it’s easier for us to learn, it’s almost the same as our Galician, but you speak it very well, and I think having understood that you’re from Madrid, that’s quite unusual,” I said.

Looking at me, they both said at the same time:

“We’ve come here so many times.”

We all laughed at the coincidence.

“But you don’t learn the language just by visiting a place,” I said when the laughter had died down.

“No, of course not, that’s true, but when one has an interest in the things that have happened in that place, it’s best to learn how they speak in order to find out more about those things, wouldn’t you agree?” the older one asked me, trying to engage in a bit of chat, or so it seemed to me.

“Are you here alone?” the lady who appeared to be the younger of the two then asked.

“I am,” I answered a little surprised by her question.

She turned to me and said, “You can eat with us, if you feel like it.”

“No, don’t worry, I don’t want to bother you.”

“No, you wouldn’t be bothering us at all, it would be better. That way we can talk a little. Well, if you don’t mind.”

I got up and was changing table when the lady came out of the kitchen. She was holding a steaming dish in her hands and when she saw me she said:

“You’re changing table? What’s wrong? Did you not like the one you were sitting at?” and she stood there with the dish in her hands.

“It’s just that these ladies have invited me to join them so that I wouldn’t be sitting alone, is it a problem?” I asked.

“No,” she said, smiling, “that way would be better, I’ve never liked eating alone either.”

She set down the plate that she had brought out for me. I looked at it and I saw that there were vegetables with an exquisite smell, but I also looked at the plates that were sitting in front of the two ladies and asked:

“What about what they had? Is there any left?” and I pointed to the dish that was in front of the lady next to me.

“Don’t worry, when you finish your soup, I’ll bring you a big helping of cod with cream,” she said smiling, “it seems you’re eager, that’s good.”

“Did you say cod with cream? How bizarre! I’ve never heard of that.”

“Yes, but don’t you like cod?” she asked me a little surprised.

“Is that what they’re eating?” I asked, looking back at their plates.

“Yes, that’s the cod with cream,” she said.

“I’ve never tried it, but it looks delicious, and given how hungry I am today, I would eat it no matter what it was.”

“Of course!” she said with a slight tone of annoyance, “says he to whom it occurs to go out without any breakfast.”

“Ah, so you’ve not had any breakfast today?” the older lady asked me, “I’ve had so much that I can hardly move. You’ve served us a truly delicious breakfast. I can’t imagine anyone refusing anything we had in front of us, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again,” she said, looking at the owner:

“Tomorrow, please just a coffee with milk, otherwise you’re going to make me fat,” she fell silent and kept eating.

Not even a minute had passed when she said:

“How can this be so scrumptious?”

Once the meal was finished, I thought I’d go and lie down for a little while as I usually do, but it turned out to be impossible. The post-meal conversation lasted until well into the afternoon. When the owner of the place finished serving us food, she brought us a coffee each, and asked for permission to have her coffee with us. The three of us had said:

“Be our guest!”

I was actually quite surprised, what confidence! As she sat, she said:

“I don’t like to drink coffee alone and now that nobody needs me, would you mind if I spend some free time here with you?”

“Not at all,” said the older lady, “sometimes we need to rest and you must have been on your feet all morning non-stop, with so much hustle and bustle.”

“Yes, as I am every day,” she answered, “it never stops here, although less people have been coming recently, probably because of the rain.”

I was keen to finish and leave, so I started to get up and said:

“Well, I’ll leave you for now.”

“No,” the three of them said, “stay a little while longer, the company will be good for you too, because I’ve seen that you came alone,” the owner of the place added.

I sat back down a little disgruntled, but the feeling dissipated immediately, as soon as I heard the older lady saying to the owner:

“Now that you’re no longer rushing about, we could talk for a while, and you can tell us things you’ve heard in passing.”

I opened my eyes and thought, “Well, this is surely the kind of thing I came looking for,” and I kept quiet to see what would become of the subject.

The owner, as a decent small-town resident, and without the intention of offending anyone, liked to gossip about what went on in her town. She began to talk and talk, she knew a lot and she knew everything first-hand. She was not one of those people who tell you that they found something out, or that they’ve been told something. No, she had seen it, she had experienced it, and she told us so much, that I couldn’t keep up. I was so happy, here I had the subject I wanted, first-hand experiences.

“Well, since I don’t know what you’ll know about all of this, I’m going to refer to something you might not know, because nobody outside the town knows about it,” she began.

She told us so many things that she spent all afternoon talking without realizing it, and we’d sat there listening to her spellbound.

At a certain point, when the lady got up to bring a jug of water and some glasses, I said to the other two ladies:

“What she’s telling us is so interesting, right?”

“Yes, yes,” they said at the same time, “she always knows how to make us happy, that’s why we come here whenever we can, we spend a few days, and she lets us know everything that’s happened.

I looked at them carefully, both had a calm countenance, as if reflecting a great inner peace, which surprised me and I asked them both:

“So what is it that you’re looking for in such a place?”

The question must have sounded funny to them, and I have no idea why, because they both started laughing.

“And where could we go that’s better?” they both said at the same time.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I answered a little surprised.

“Look, in life we all go where we enjoy, and since we came for the first time, many years ago now, we haven’t stopped coming. It’s as if we recharge our batteries here, to be able to get on with our lives, until the next time we can get back here, for another short while.”

“It’ll be because of how well they feed you here, as you said before,” I said to them taking what they had just said to me as a bit of a joke.

“No son, that’s only a very small part of what one can find here, food for the body. Okay yes, we’re not going to deny that, but the best thing that can be found here does not enter through the mouth, it enters the body through all of our pores. It’s something inexplicable, something that you have to feel yourself, one can’t put it into words, one must experience that to continue living. That being said, don’t think of it as just a lovely thing that two lonely old women tell you. We’ve seen that so many events have happened here to different people, that we wouldn’t have enough time to tell you about them even if we were telling you for a whole month straight, right Mam?” they asked the owner, who came back to the table at that point to sit with us.

“What were you talking about? Although I can imagine the subject. If you knew what happens around here, I’m sure you would be coming back as they do,” she told me very seriously.

“But what you say happens here, what is it specifically? Or is it something so personal that it can’t be shared,” I asked quietly to see how they would respond.

“No, not at all, we don’t have secrets here, because we’ve seen that by sharing this stuff, what one person experiences can help others, I’ve been sharing this with everyone I know for years. Many people come here without knowing anything other than the fact that something happened long ago, with the sole intention of taking a look around, and they find themselves fully immersed in something so important that it changes their lives. And don’t think that’s an exaggeration, we’ve seen it happen many times.”

The husband entered at that moment and said in a surprised tone:

“Wait, your conversation is still going on? Well I’m sorry to have to tell you that it’s time to start making dinner. You’ll have to leave the chat for another time.”

Standing up, his wife told us:

“I’ll prepare this in half an hour. Don’t worry, no one will be going without dinner,” and she quickly left for the kitchen.

I took advantage of the pause to ask the husband: “What do you think about all of this?”

“Son, what do I think? I think it’s all good.”

“That’s all?” I asked a little disappointed by his succinct response.

“Look, there is something here, I don’t doubt it, but it’s something that everyone has to find for themselves. What I’ve found wouldn’t benefit you, just as what you might find wouldn’t benefit me.”

“But what is there to be found?” I asked him to find out what he was talking about. “I would imagine that only those who come looking for something will find it.”

“Well, I can tell you,” said the older lady, “that it does all of us some good, because good things never come amiss in this life.”

As I saw that nothing further would be forthcoming, I told them:

“I’m going to my room for a while. I’ll be back in time for dinner,” and I said goodbye.

I had to rest, even if it was only for a few minutes. My head was bursting with so much information. I couldn’t believe how I had gotten into this situation. Nothing had shed any light on what had happened to me, but I had been able to verify that I was not the only one who had experienced something strange around here, and I certainly had to look into it more closely.

<<<<< >>>>>

A bullet passed me by, almost grazing me. At that point I thought I couldn’t run any further, my legs were refusing to keep going, but it forced me to decide, I had to keep going, I could not let them reach me, my life depended on those moments.

But what was going on? Why would someone want to kill me? All I was doing was looking for information. If I wasn’t stepping on anyone’s toes, who would be so upset with me? Besides, most of what I was looking at was already in the public domain. I had only gone somewhere to verify that this was true. Of course, if I’d done it quietly from home, without verifying all of this, no one would ever have known.

I kept going over the question in my head, who was I bothering so much that whoever it was had to stoop to this? This must be a last resort, to kill someone, because, although they hadn’t hit me, I don’t believe anyone shoots at people just for fun. Surely they wanted to get me out of the way, it’s insane how serious these Italians are, how easy it is for them to pull the trigger, because I don’t believe they’re all in the mafia.

I have only been moving among “good” people, people from the Vatican or in some religious bookstore and I don’t think there’s much chance that there are thugs moving in those circles. How then can this pursuit and this eagerness to get me out of the way be explained, to even go so far as to use weapons to do so?

What secrets lie behind all of this? Every time I make a move, to ask a question, even to a bookseller, it seems that the information reaches someone who does not want me to find the true answer. How else could they locate me so fast?

Running as I was, I saw a taxi, it had just stopped and a man was getting out. I immediately asked the driver:

“Is this taxi free?” and without waiting for an answer, as soon as I got inside, I instructed him, “Alla stazione Termini veloce.”

The taxi driver was somewhat taken aback, but he started the car and we left the area. I looked back, and right then I saw the two men who had been following me, watching the taxi drive away. They stood there with faces full of disappointment, but I could also see the menacing gesture that one of them was directing toward me, I think he was sure that I was watching them.

Because of how easy it had been for them to take out the gun and shoot at me, despite the fact that I had been in the middle of the street, even though there was no one else around, I deduced that they were unscrupulous thugs, and that they would not be satisfied with having lost me. If they were used to getting rid of someone on request, they would be getting paid for it, and they would not let their quarry escape, which in those moments was apparently me.

When I felt that my entire body was hurting, I shifted in the seat, a sure result of that unexpected chase I had just been given. I tried to reassure myself, and I started to look out the window. Then I thought, “The most logical thing to do, if I want to escape and leave Rome, is to head to that station, but with a little thought, they’ll also come to that same conclusion. I can’t make it so easy for them… What should do I do?” but nothing came to me, I was still too rattled to be able to come up with a clear solution.

Suddenly it came to me, I couldn’t go back to pick up my things from where I was staying either, because it was as I was leaving there that I noticed for the first time that they were following me. They would surely assume that I would have to return there, so I decided not to go back. All in, I had only left my toiletries and the shirt I’d brought on the trip, all wrinkled and sweaty, it wasn’t much of a loss. Well, there was the travel bag, but I didn’t have any special attachment to it, nor was it valuable, I could abandon it there.

I made a mental review to see if I had left anything else, but no, nothing that was worth putting my life on the line for. I remembered that there were also the pajamas, but I would abandon them there, I was certainly not willing to return to that place.

I’m sure they would go through all of my things. That’s what I think spies do, to pick up clues from everything they can, but I didn’t have anything else there. I decided not to go back and expose myself to danger for a few unimportant belongings.

When I saw the Pyramid in the distance, I asked the taxi driver to stop. I had regained my bearings, because with the chase I had lost my way and didn’t know where I was going, I had just tried to run as fast as I could.

It’s a good thing I’m in shape, soccer keeps me healthy and deep down I was grateful for it. I think it was thanks to that that I was saved by the skin of my teeth. When I heard the shot, I had turned in the same way we do during team training: a quick change of position to catch the ball and take a shot at goal with a header. That was what had saved me, because if I hadn’t, the bullet would have hit me. Having turned, it passed me, just grazing me.

My body was still consumed with fear when the taxi driver, vexed by my change of destination, stopped. I paid him and said:

“Keep the change and have a good day.”

Once I was back outside, the first thing I did was to take a very deep breath, it felt like my lungs were empty and like I had been drowning inside that vehicle. My legs were still trembling and I looked absently at the Pyramid and thought, “It’s incredible that there are secrets everywhere. No matter what you look at, we are surrounded by them. Who built the Pyramids of Egypt? What was their function? Why do they have the measurements that they have? Look at the fact that they have been studied for centuries and still no one knows the true reason for such a construction. How would it have occurred to them to build them in that shape, a shape that has enabled them to last for so many centuries? Okay, I’m going to find a place to sit down for a while and I’ll have a coffee,” I thought.

Looking in that direction, I couldn’t see any coffee shops anywhere. There was traffic and I wanted to cross to the other side, where there was a group of people, I did not want to be alone.

Being accompanied, even by strangers, would be safer, because if those guys who had chased me had taken another taxi, to follow me… With that terrifying thought in mind, I turned around and glanced all around me, wanting to identify some indication that would tell me if anyone else had arrived.

They were very conspicuous with their huge raincoats; it must have been part of their uniform. Of course the frightening thing is if they did take them off, I wouldn’t recognize them and they would go unnoticed by me, while they did know me, so they would have a clear advantage.

Nothing, my surroundings were empty, there was nowhere nearby where they could have hidden if they had followed me. More calmly, I could cross the road and head over to a bench that I saw in the distance in a small garden. When I arrived, I sat down the way a person collapses after a long race, letting my body slump as if it weighed a ton. At last, I was free from danger, I was almost certain that they hadn’t followed me, and that they couldn’t find me anymore.

Looking distracted at that Pyramid that I saw in the distance, I kept thinking about the secrets that things hide, and about how we are, the people, some of whom don’t care and get on with their lives, while others, for some reason that I don’t really understand, are compelled to discover these secrets in the search for explanations. Why? When? Who? And a whole heap of other questions that come up, and how sometimes there is a lot of adversity to overcome to get to the answers.

I was thinking now about the number of explorers who have had the idea of entering a Pyramid. Why? What did they hope to get out of it? I thought about how they don’t stop their efforts until they’ve achieved their goal, leaving their country, their family, facing a thousand setbacks until they see what they once possibly discovered in a book and which caught their attention.

Every search has its origin, like an internal voice that asks questions from deep within. What is it? Why don’t you find out? And the listener looks for answers, and not only that, but every time the listener finds an answer, it seems that the call only adds another question and another mystery that has to resolved.

As if only just becoming aware of where I was, sitting on a bench in a garden, I looked around. A very elderly gardener was beginning to prune some hedges there next to me. He gave me a signal that I understood, that I should move, because he was going to bother me, or rather that I had bothered him, because the branches that he had to cut would fall on the bench where I was sitting. I dare say, could he not have started at the other side? But surely he was thinking, “What is this guy doing here at this time, not letting me work in peace?”

Sensing that I was bothering him, and since I had already rested a little and had calmed down, I got up and gesturing with my hand, I said goodbye to the gardener, leaving him to get on with his work.

I looked both ways before crossing the road and as I saw that no cars were coming, I went back to the side of the Pyramid. I don’t know why, but being close to it made me feel at peace.

I felt at that moment as if this place was safe, and while I was there, nothing was going to happen to me. From what I had read about it, I know what it had been through, and still it remains defiant of time, as if saying, “If you want it, you can get it.” That internal affirmation that I had made to myself helped me to take the decision to continue investigating, to continue the work I had set out to do, to get to the bottom of the matter and see what was hidden.

Why was there so much zeal to keep whatever it was from being discovered? Who was behind all this? Because I was being increasingly pointed toward the upper echelons of the Church, and that I couldn’t quite believe. Why would they want to hide a message that was supposed to be from Heaven? At that moment, the question gave me strength.

I had to continue with all of it. It was as if the Pyramid instilled me with courage, and motivated me to continue researching.

Calmer, I turned and bid it farewell, until next time, because I was sure I would have to return to Rome another time, perhaps when the dust had settled and they forgot about me, and that way I wouldn’t have to gamble with my life for an answer.

I looked for an entrance to the metro and when I went down the stairs, I thought, “I’m not going to go to Termini Station, because surely they’ll be thinking that I’m going to escape and they’ll be waiting for me there.” When the train arrived, I took it in the opposite direction and decided to continue to the end of the line.

I hadn’t even paid any attention to where I was actually going, I didn’t care much, I just wanted to put some ground between us, so when we arrived I was surprised.

I had been gathering my thoughts and minding my own business for the entire journey, at first standing up, because all of the seats had been occupied when I got on, but when I saw that one was empty, I sat down and I became completely disconnected to everything, after all, I didn’t have to be aware of what stop we were passing through. I would get off when the train reached the end of the line and figure out where I was.

We passed through tunnels, we stopped at stations. I don’t know how many, I wasn’t counting them, but I thought we must be far enough away by now, and I said to myself, “I could get off,” but then I thought: “The further the better,” so I decided to follow the original plan: to not get off until the end of the line, wherever that might be.

I knew that the subway lines are very long in Rome, and they do go far. That was what I was looking for, to put some distance between us and to make it impossible for them to find me, because I was sure that those two would be good bloodhounds, that’s why they would have been hired in the first place. If I was even slightly careless, they would sniff me out, because they would not be willing to let their target escape. From what they told me the first time, they only wanted me to leave the country, but after the shooting, I wasn’t so sure that was their only order.

The train arrived. It stopped and I felt like I was waking from a dream, although I’m sure that I’d not slept. I realized that I was alone in the car. Where would the people have gotten off? I don’t know, nor had I noticed, but surely they would have gotten off gradually as they always do.

When the train arrives at a stop, some get on and others get off, everyone goes on to their destination, but it seems that I was the only one going here. What would this place be? And where would it be?

I looked out the window as I got up from the seat and quickly got out of the car, because at that moment I heard the beeping and I didn’t want to stay locked inside and be taken back to where I had gotten on it.

I saw through the windows that we were at a station, but not underground as would be normal for a subway station. The sunshine came streaming in, we were in the open air, I didn’t quite get why.

Outside the car, the first thing I did was to look all around me. Where was this? A small town, surely not, was I asleep? I rubbed my eyes and no, when I looked again I saw the sea in the distance, how was that possible? How had I gotten there if I took the subway in Rome? How could I be close to the sea? Well, not quite close, since the sea was down there and I was up on a mound, standing there at the station, but I was still astonished. “But the sea is very far from Rome,” I said to myself. “What a day I’m having! What weird things are happening to me!”

I read the sign, the name of the station was Ostia Antica, where would that be?

I sat on one of the three benches that were there, in the shadow of the canopy of that old place. I couldn’t believe it, I thought I had gotten onto a subway train.

Of course, I’m sure I had entered a subway station, but now looking all around me, I saw that it looked like a regular train station, a wooden building painted green, a little house typical of mountain villages. Inside, through the windows on the side of the building, I could see a room where there was a table with two chairs and a blackboard with something written on it. I could also see a man who was now heading toward the door.

When he came out and saw me sitting there, alone and surely with a look of confusion plastered across my face, the man approached me. I gathered that he must have been the station guard, because he was wearing blue overalls, which must have been his work clothes.

He looked at me very seriously, it seemed that he did not dare to speak to me and he moved away, then turning around he came back to where I was still sitting and said:

“Necessita qualcosa amico?” which I understood to mean, “Can I help you with anything friend?”

<<<<< >>>>>

In those moments, when I was listening to that man speak to me in Italian, I felt joy. I understood and, now more than ever, I appreciated the idea that my mother had that day for me to learn it. I had never studied Italian before, since I knew French and English.

It was so she wouldn’t have to see me going out to play soccer with my friends, which she never really liked. She said she didn’t understand what we got out of kicking a ball and running around without stopping, which was fine for kids, but older people never understood it.

I think what she didn’t like in reality was that I came home with muddy clothes. On top of that, if she ever told me to do something after a match, I would always answer that I was very tired.

Italian turned out to be very easy for me to learn. I have to say in all honesty that I have always had an affinity for languages.

We had spoken Galician in our house ever since we were little, especially with my grandmother, who said that Castilian Spanish was for school. She never understood how Franco, in his Galician homeland, had allowed the speaking of Galician in the streets to be prohibited, why did he want us to speak something else? Having always only spoken Galician in her own town and having done so very well, she was always understood by all her neighbors and hadn’t ever needed to speak anything else.

One day, while I was still just a boy, I was going to the home of a school friend and when I passed by the door of the Cathedral, some men who spoke strangely were going inside. I was very surprised because I only half understood them, and I asked my friend:

“What are they saying?”

“It’s Portuguese, couldn’t you tell?” he answered.

And I became curious about that language that was so similar to ours. My interest led me to study it, and over time I managed to master it so well that, as I can verify from my trips to Portugal, not even the Portuguese notice any accent in my voice when I talk to them.

I started studying Italian at the same academy where I learned English and I was fortunate enough to have a beautiful teacher from Florence, who in addition to teaching us how to speak, also made us fall in love with “Mia cara Italia,” or “My beloved Italy,” as she called it.

She taught us with so much warmth, that when she told us bits of its history, it seemed that we were experiencing it for ourselves, we were going through those streets.

I remember the day she told us about Venice, her words immediately transported me into a gondola, and I could feel it moving through the calm waters of its canals, to the point that I could almost hear the gondolier singing a barcarolle.

We were exploring those narrow nameless streets, as she told us:

“I don’t know how they can know their way around.”

Then we reached St. Mark’s Square, the water level almost reaching the wooden walkway where we all walked in single file, careful not to fall, so as not to get wet. They are spread out across the square so people can cross on the day of the “Acua Alta,” as they call it, and walk around without getting their feet wet when the high tide floods the entire square.

She taught us these things, as she told us about them, with pictures that she had and that way we could learn words that she made us repeat until we were pronouncing them correctly.

When she told us about the Tower of Pisa, and she told us that it was leaning, my image of it was so real that I asked the teacher:

“And when it falls, then what?”

“No, it’s been like that for many, many years, and it seems to be safe, it won’t topple,” she said, laughing at my idea.

Then she showed us the picture, I was even more surprised and I thought, “I have to go see this one someday, it’s not enough to only see her image, I didn’t believe her when she said it wasn’t going to topple.”

And that’s how she told us things about each of the important cities of Italy, and this made us talk in a natural way about each of the places, because the whole class was in Italian.

She wouldn’t let us say a single word that wasn’t in Italian, and she made us ask her about everything she was saying, to see if we were learning properly and we loosened up with the language and understood everything. She encouraged us to go to her country, she said it was the most beautiful place in the world.

She showed us many images, especially of her beloved Florence. She told us where she used to play when she was a little girl, the place where she was born, the squares that were close to where she lived. It made us fall in love with those places that seemed so dream-like to us.

She told us about events that occurred in the Middle Ages when the city was very important, and those buildings that had those two-colored bricks caught our attention.

<<<<< >>>>>

Now, here in this station, when the guard asked me if he could help me in his peculiar small-town Italian, I could understand his words and answer him in a way that he would understand me too.

“I don’t know where I am,” I said a little embarrassed.

“That happens to many folk, don’t worry. People get a surprise having gotten on in Rome and turning up here, almost getting their feet wet,” he replied with a smile. This train has always been used by the people of Rome to get to the sea.

I couldn’t help but smile, knowing that the same thing had happened to others calmed me down.

He was the one who told me that the inhabitants of Rome had always come here to these beaches since ancient times, and that these days they also used this train to come and sunbathe and cool off if the weather permitted it.

“It’s very comfortable, so they don’t have to drive or worry about finding a place to park, and that way it’s cheaper, they just have to pay for this ticket and then to get onto the beach.”

“Onto the beach?” I asked somewhat taken aback, thinking that I had misunderstood.

“Yes, don’t you know? You have to pay to get onto the beach here,” he told me emphatically.

“Paying to bathe?” I said in surprise, but deep down I thought it was a joke.

“No, you pay to get onto the beach. If you don’t want to bathe in the sea, that’s up to you. You can also just lie down to sunbathe, or sit down to eat a sandwich. Each person can decide what they want to do,” the man said very seriously.

I was a little hesitant. It hadn’t been a joke on his part. Paying to get onto the beach, I’d never heard of such a thing.

Well, the important thing is that now I knew where I was. Then I asked him at what time I could return.

He informed me that the subway trains ran at all hours of the day and that it was very punctual, because as it was the first station on the line, punctuality was the most important thing for them. If they lost even a few seconds, little by little, as there were so many stations, they would arrive in Rome very late.

The phone rang inside that office and the guard said goodbye and off he went with a brisk step to answer it.

When I was alone again looking in that direction, I saw the station bathrooms, where I decided to go. I went in and the first thing I did was freshen up my face, I needed to wake up.

I knew I was not asleep, but the cool water was good for me. Having calmed down, I left and headed confidently into town. I had to find somewhere to eat, and I had to drink something because my stomach had started to grumble very loudly, since, alongside some other things, I had neglected it.

I crossed several streets and found nothing. I couldn’t seem to find anywhere where I could buy some bread at the very least.

Suddenly I saw the water, the sea, there in the distance. I had forgotten it was there and I lost my hunger, at least momentarily, and I went toward it to get a better look. How could the sea be there? I still didn’t get it. I just kept remembering that I’d taken the subway in Rome.

Since I couldn’t ask anyone because the whole place was empty, I opted to sit there for a while on the beach. It was full of dark pebbles, and almost entirely covered with everything that the sea brings in after a stormy day, logs, the occasional rag, heaps of seaweed, all dragged in by the sea.

Looking absent-mindedly over all of this, I got to thinking once more about what I was doing, about how my life had taken me, or rather, my curiosity had taken me, into such a strange situation, sitting there in that lonely place, in an unknown corner of Italy, hungry and not knowing what I should do next, or what my next step should be.

Hitting me in the face, the sea breeze was agreeing with me, erasing all my worries as if by magic. I noticed that coolness in the air caressing me, and it calmed me. I suddenly felt that I had nothing to fear, that everything was fine, that there was only that moment and that I should enjoy it, no matter what had happened, or what was still to come.

I don’t know how long I was sitting there like that, looking all around me, gazing at the stones on the ground, when I asked myself, “Is it really true that you have to pay to get onto the beach here in Italy? I’ve never heard of such a thing in all my days.” I still thought it had been a joke, by that man who had told me, even though he didn’t have the face of a joker. “Who would pay to enter such a place? If the sea belonged to everyone, in my opinion, who would have come up with such a strange notion.”

Turning that issue over in my mind, so odd, yet so unimportant to me, I was forgetting all the commotion that’d had to happen that day to reach this point.

Relaxed, sitting there facing the sea, the Mediterranean was so calm. It seemed, as they say, “As still as a millpond,” so different from the Atlantic to which I was so accustomed to seeing.

There was no chance of ever finding the sea calm along the coasts of Galicia, it always seemed to be wild, like it was angry, as if it wanted to smash the rocks that prevented it from penetrating the land. It was nothing like here, where it gently approached and receded again, almost in silence, as if it didn’t want to cause a fuss.

Today at least, the water moved silently. The waves were barely noticeable, although looking around and seeing the debris that was scattered over the stones, it was clear that it wasn’t always so peaceful, that it also knew how to get angry. That being said, the important thing was that I was enjoying it now as it rocked gently back and forth in front of me as if it wanted to reassure me, saying, “Relax, all the danger has passed.”

I was watching it for a while and I began to think about how curious it is that even in nature, there are massive differences. Tiny plants born next to towering trees, long-necked giraffes alongside large-shelled turtles with almost no neck at all, although I do know that in Australia, there is a native species of turtle with a long neck. That’s rare of course, but there are many things there that can’t be found anywhere else except for in those distant lands, from what I’ve read about them.

Well, this wasn’t the time to think about that, although one day I would like to visit that distant country and check out the curiosities of its culture for myself.

We Galicians have always boasted about the antiquity of our land, but I think the aborigines in Australia say that they have lived there for 40,000 years, that the gods had left them there to take care of everything and that one day they would return and hold them accountable for it.

Of course it’s important to see that different beliefs are held in different places, and I dare say, something really must be hidden behind traditions, because if not, where did they come from? Who was the first to come up with them? And why have they not been lost with the passage of time?

Too many questions always arise as soon as you start to really think about something, but it would be interesting to know all the answers.

I remembered that there is a belief in witches, or “the Meigas” in my beloved Galicia, and when you ask people, as I had asked my grandmother on several occasions:

“Have you ever seen a ‘Meiga?’” I asked her inquisitively, so she would tell me.

“No, child, never, but I’m sure they exist, as they say, ‘Just because you haven’t seen them, it doesn’t mean they’re not there,’ and if you don’t believe in them, they come and punish you,” my grandmother would answer very seriously.

That subject had scared me for a time, and it made me not want to go to my grandparents’ house. I was almost sure that because my grandmother believed in them, even though she had never seen one, a “Meiga” was roaming around her house, and I didn’t want it to see me. When it saw that I didn’t believe they existed, it would punish me by not letting me play or by taking away my snack, which was worse, because as my brothers say, I have always been a glutton.

My father used to say that I must have “Tapeworms,” because I was always eating and I was like a toothpick. I didn’t understand it, but the truth is that I’ve been thin all my life. My mother put it down to soccer, and more than once when she got angry because I had borrowed something, Carmen had called me scrawny, which she knew bothered me a lot.

“It seems you’re jealous of me,” I would say, “for not having my slim figure and you can’t eat all the bread you want, because you say that bread is fattening. It must be for you because I eat sandwiches and I’ve never put on weight. Maybe it’s that the bread knows who’s eating it, and since it knows that you don’t like to be chubby, the bread stays inside your body just to annoy you and it sees that such nonsense doesn’t matter to me, so it leaves me in peace.”

The discussion would have to end, because my mother 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.