Fatima: The Final Secret. Juan Moisés De La Serna

The boy sat on the floor with a broken toy truck that he was dragging along in his hand. He started playing there straight away and he stayed quiet.

      She took us to the other side of the house. Surrounding it, we saw a yard demarcated with some chicken wire and wooden sticks, and she told us:

      “This is where we want to be, well, where we thought work could be done,” and she looked at us as if she was embarrassed and lowered her head.

      “Don’t worry,” said Simón, “you’ll see how nice we’re going to leave it, and can we make use of all the land?” he asked, with the certainty of knowing what he wanted to do, although we had no idea what the two of them were talking about.

      “Yes, whatever you want, no problem,” she answered.

      “And what about the chickens? What are you going to do with them? They’re going to get in the way here,” Simón asked again.

      “Well, they’re free range. They’re used to it and even though they’re not cooped up, they don’t go very far, they spend the day pecking around over there,” she added. “I’ll leave you be, I don’t want to leave the child for too long, he’s a little rascal and I want to know what he’s up to,” and off she went.

      “Guys, we have a job! You’ve already seen everything that needs to be done,” Simón told us.

      “And what is there to do?” we asked intrigued, because he had not put anything forward.

      “Well, look here, we can build one room here,” he said quietly, as if waiting for us to protest.

      “Why not two?” I asked.

      “Would you be brave enough to build two?” Simón asked.

      “It was an idea that came to me, I don’t know, all of a sudden,” and I asked the others.

      “Sure, if we can build one, we can build two. I think it would be good, but first we have to make some plans and adapt them to the space we have,” Jorge told us. It seemed that he was on board with my idea.

      “Yes, but what about the doors? Where could we put them? We’ve already seen that they only have that one room that they use for everything; sitting room, dining room and bedroom, where the bed is. With this space we can build two rooms, a larger one for the Mom and Dad and a smaller one for the little one,” Simón was telling us.

      “The little one will grow up and he’ll need a place, and perhaps in time they’ll also have another one. This should really be taken into account, and if the room is too small, he wouldn’t really fit,” Santi told us, who until now had been very quiet, but we noticed from the tone of his voice how much he had embraced the idea.

      “I don’t imagine they’d have another kid, you’ve already seen that he doesn’t seem to be very well, but if they did, they could put in some bunk beds.”

      “My brothers sleep in them and they’re very practical, because there’s no need for any extra space in the room, they occupy the same floor space as a single bed.”

      We all agreed and we decided that it was best to make only one connecting door, so as not to weaken the load-bearing wall too much and the two bedrooms would be connected.

      Seeing that we’d all liked the idea, Simón opened a notebook that he’d been holding in his hand the whole time and we saw that he’d prepared some sketches. Then, with great skill, he plotted some lines, making a new sketch. When he finished, he showed it to us:

      “What do you think?”

      We all looked at it, and although we didn’t really understand much of what we were looking at, it seemed to us that it would turn out well, and we gave it our approval.

      “Okay, we’ll tell them, let’s see if they agree,” Jorge said, “because their opinion is the one that matters, it’s their house and they have to live here.”

      Happy with the idea, we went to tell them about it. When we went to knock on the door to enter, we heard that the man was sobbing and we didn’t think we should interrupt, but we heard:

      “Yes, come in, come in.” As we’d all been talking, I’m sure they’d heard us as we approached.

      “What’s wrong mister?” I asked him without thinking as soon as I saw him. I instantly regretted it, but it was too late.

      “I don’t know how we’re going to be able to pay for it,” he answered tearfully.

      “Look, honestly, we’ve told you before, this isn’t going to cost you anything, we’ll take care of everything,” said Jorge.

      “But, that takes a lot of material and your labor on top of that, why would you do that?” the man went on, asking but still crying.

      “Well!” said Simón, who was more confident with them. “We do it to stave off boredom during vacation time.”

      “Really?” said the woman. “Such good-looking boys bored? You’ll get a girlfriend and then you’ll know when you start ‘Courting’ that time is precious, to spend it together.”

      “Well, some of us have one already,” Santi said jumping up. “No one said we didn’t, but they’re very supportive, and they let us be free to do what we want.”

      “Yes, of course and also, perhaps, she’s gone to the beach to spend her vacation with her parents, and she’s ditched you,” I told Santi who knew that this was what had happened to him.

      “Shut up foghorn!” he said at once, and turned red.

      “Alright, let’s change the subject,” said Simón. “I’ve brought some sketches that I’ve made, and I want you to take a look at them to see what you think, and if we can do it.”

      “Son, we don’t know anything about all that, just do whatever you think is best,” the woman was saying somewhat nervously.

      “Well, take a look at them to see if you like them,” and he took the notebook he had brought over to the bed.

      We saw that the man didn’t take his hands out from under the sheet, that it was the woman who took it and showed it to him.

      “The blue lines represent what’s standing now, and the red lines are what we can do in the yard, and those pencil marks, I just drew there behind, we’ve all agreed that if we expand this just a little, instead of one, you could have two extra rooms,” Simón was saying, excited about the idea.

      The man could no longer contain himself and began to cry inconsolably, so we decided to go out and leave them in peace. I took the child in my arms and said:

      “Let’s play! I can teach you a game that I’m sure you won’t know: Hide-and-Seek.”

      Because he didn’t understand what I was talking about, the little one, looking at me with a face full of surprise, looked back:

      “Dad, Dad,” he was screaming, but as soon as we had left the house, he immediately saw a hen, and he began to struggle in my arms, because he wanted to get down. The instant I put him down on the ground, he ran off after it.

      The four of us stayed outside for a while, a little serious because of the situation. The woman came out with eyes red from crying, and said:

      “Forgive him, he’s always been such a hard worker and he could never be still, and now he can’t bear anyone having to do things for him.”

      Simón came forward and, resting a hand on her shoulder, said:

      “It’s alright, just tell us where to start.”

      She used her apron to wipe away some of the tears that had escaped from her eyes and ran down her cheeks, and then she said:

      “This is everything we have, I can’t offer you anything else.” She showed us some tools, which were piled up in one corner and covered with an old sack.

      “Don’t