Fatima: The Final Secret. Juan Moisés De La SernaЧитать онлайн книгу.
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.
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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