Fatima: The Final Secret

“Whatever you want. Let’s go to wherever you’re talking about.”

We went to the Rúa da Raiña and in surprise I said:

“So where are we going?”

At that point, we passed by the door of a coffee shop, and she said:

“Look, this looks like a good place to get a coffee, what do you think?”

I liked the place too, although in reality it didn’t matter to me, so we entered and asked for one right there at the counter, which really surprised me.

I had assumed she would take advantage of the fact that we would be sitting quietly to show me what she had just told me about, but I was wrong, she didn’t want to sit down at all. When I proposed it, she said:

“No, this way is faster.”

When it was served to us, she started drinking it immediately. I saw that the coffee was steaming and I asked her:

“Are you in such a hurry that you can’t wait for it to cool down a little?”

“Wait, you’ll see,” she said, smiling, and she did not say another word.

She drank all the coffee that was left in the cup in a single sip. I don’t know how she could tolerate it and not burn her throat, because there was no one who could have drank mine at least like that, it was just too hot.

Indicating with her hand that I should hurry, she headed for the exit, so my full coffee was left untouched in the cup. I did not want to burn myself, besides, curiosity had already gripped me. What could Pilar want to show me that would suddenly make her hurry so much?

I followed her out of the coffee shop, and of course because she knew where she was going, her steps were firm, yet I didn’t understand anything and I looked all around me, and before I knew it, we had arrived at the University library. She immediately greeted the two people at the door, it was obvious that they were old acquaintances.

“Hello Pilar! Here for information again?” asked one of them.

“Yes!” she answered. “I know you’ve received something interesting, and I’m going to keep an eye on it.” We kept walking until we got into a big room.

“I’d never come here before,” I said looking at the place. “I’d visited the public library, yes, who in Santiago de Compostela doesn’t know it? This place though, I didn’t even know it existed. Where are we?” I asked.

She smiled at me softly:

“Shhhh! You can’t talk here.”

I shrugged a little embarrassed, because for a few moments I’d forgotten that talking is prohibited in libraries. Of course, given all the time I’ve spent in them, I was almost always alone, so I didn’t have to make any effort to keep quiet. Since I didn’t have anyone to talk to, how was I going to do it?

At that moment, I don’t know why, I remembered one time when I was occupying myself with a book that I had in my hands in the Vatican library, and that nun approached me and asked me:

“Can I help you?” and I immediately realized that she had asked in English.

I looked at her surprised and thought, “How strange! Why have you asked me like that?” Then I answered:

“No, thank you.” I was of course trying to pronounce it properly, in the same language that she had spoken to me, English. It’s a problem that I’ve always had, even though my teachers have always told me:

“Manuel, you know how to assert yourself very well,” but when I’ve had to speak it, I’ve always been indecisive, fearing that the person who was listening to me wouldn’t understand me, because I was pronouncing things wrong.

The nun gave me a pamphlet, and turning around, disappeared into the aisles of the place. Surprised, I looked at what she had given me, I opened that pamphlet to see what it was when I saw in large letters, “FATIMA.”

I got up as if propelled by a spring to look for her, but it was useless. There were a lot of people sitting there, priests, the odd nun, and I looked at them closely, to see if the nun who had spoken to me was among them.

But nothing! I couldn’t recognize her because I’d not taken notice of how she was dressed, and here there were different uniforms, or habits as I believe their clothes are called, some dressed in blue, others in black, still others in white, which surprised me. What would they be doing here? Why were they not at their convents?

Well, since it was none of my business, I let it go. Since the pamphlet was in my hand, I looked at it more closely. It was written in English, and I thought, “How would she have known that I was looking for information on this subject?” I could not get over my astonishment, but even more so when I read on the pamphlet, “Pilgrimage to Fatima.”

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Now, being here with Pilar, uncertain about what she was going to show me, I asked her:

“How do you find out about any new information?”

“I’ve been working on this for many years, so I know all my counterparts, and if there’s a new one somewhere, I try to visit them and become friends with them, that way I know that when something comes to them about the topics they know interest me, well they let me know straight away,” she said quietly.

“And what subjects are those that interest you?” I asked at that moment.

“Shhh!” she said. “You’ll see it now.”

She went to a bookshelf and took down what she wanted, so determined that I was sure she already knew that it was there. We both went to the reading area and after sitting, I looked curiously at what was written on the book she had just taken, which read: “Latest Research on Fatima.”

“Oh, so you’re still researching the topic?” I asked a little surprised.

“And you’re not?” she returned the question. “Surely you haven’t dropped it, am I wrong?”

I put on that half smile, as if I had been caught out. I answered:

“Sure, I never dropped it.”

“I already knew you hadn’t changed. When you start with something you like, you never leave it,” she said, approaching me so I could hear her properly, because she spoke to me very quietly.

We spent a good while there reading, the time that remained until closing time. We went for a walk when we left. Even though it was a little chilly, we went to the Plaza do Obradoiro.

When we arrived, Pilar stood there in the middle. I watched her, not understanding anything of what she was doing.

“Why have we come here?” I asked at that moment.

“Each stone contains its secret,” she told me very seriously, pointing to the Cathedral.

I didn’t understand what she meant by that and I asked her:

“Pilar, what do you want to tell me? I don’t understand any of this.”

She got very serious and answered:

“Time erases everything, but there are secrets that need to be to recovered and spread.”

I still wasn’t understanding anything and I asked her to please clarify it for me.