Fatima: The Final Secret

“Manu, you haven’t changed a bit,” Mom said, “you’re still a big kid.”

Smiling as he went into the sitting room, I heard Dad say:

“That’s good, better to stay that way for a long time.”

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It was the last week of work. The group of bricklayers, as we liked to call each other, had to finish everything, summer was ending fast. As for our summer vacation, it was almost over as well, and we were going to take advantage of the last few days to enjoy, as someone put it, “a well-deserved rest.”

We approached the little house, the one we were so proud of, it was indeed our work. Even though we only came at first to try to patch up the roof a little, we ended up tiling it and fixing those holes that had been letting the rain water easily pass through since who knows when. Then, seeing that we were doing so well, we continued, and continued. We fixed the walls, we also put in a new floor in the room where they slept, which had only been cement and some of it was in a very bad state.

At the place where we bought the materials, the owner told us:

“I have some tiles piled up over there, they’re uneven, the ones that have been left over, do you want them? I can give them to you for a good price.”

A little sad, we answered that we would like to buy them, but we didn’t have money to pay for them. We told him that if he gave them to us, then the place would be left empty, and that way we would be doing him a favor, he would have the whole area cleared so he could put whatever he wanted there.

The man thought about it for a moment and said:

“Boys, you’ve been cheating me all summer, always asking me for this broken but still useful tile, those bricks that are neglected and flaking, and that’s how you cleared me up. I have to acknowledge that, and I also know that you work for free. Look, alright, I’ll give you the tiles, and this time I’ll even take them to where you tell me, so that later you don’t tell me that I don’t treat you well.”

We were very happy loading them onto that three-wheeled scooter that he had. Old and rickety though it was, it served him very well to distribute the construction material to those who bought it. He took them to the place where we indicated. When he saw what we had done, he was pleasantly surprised.

“You boys have done this on your own?” the man asked us, “I don’t believe it.”

“Of course, with your material and also with those tips you’ve been giving us,” we answered him.

“Guys, if you want to work on this…” he began to say, but we would not let him continue.

“Nooo!” we all told him, “for vacation is enough, the school year begins soon and we’ll have to dedicate our time to hitting the books, we’ve got a lot of subjects to get on with.”

Both the owners of the house, as well as the man who had brought those tiles for us, laughed with us. He said goodbye and left in his vehicle, which, even though it was very old, still did its job well.

We put in the floor of that little bedroom with those tiles, which were a variety of colors. We tried to make a picture with them, and it stuck with us when the old lady said:

“Beautiful, I would never have thought we’d have such an elegant bedroom.”

“What if we look for a bed?” it occurred to me to say to my companions. Those four wooden posts that held up the straw mattress were already severely compromised by woodworms, and one of these days they would break and they would end up on the floor.

As it seemed like a good idea to them as well, we began the task. We had to find something very cheap, something that we could afford, although we still didn’t know how. We were all broke, as they say, and we’d been taking everything we could from what little they gave each of us from our own homes. Although they weren’t much, those reales, “For expenses,” as my mother put it, enabled us to afford the material that we needed.

Determined to complete that last task, so necessary for that elderly couple, we went to the store where they sold furniture, but there was no way. Everything was very expensive and we were just students. We didn’t have a single peseta, although each of us had already agreed to ask our families for an advance from the monthly payment, to be able to pay for it if we found something that we could afford.

With this, we were in luck once again. One of them, Antonio, did as we had agreed, and asked for this advance from his grandmother, who used to give it to him, as she told him, “For tobacco,” because he was now a man, and men are known to have their expenses. When he asked for the advance, she had wondered why he asked her for so much money at once, because she couldn’t give it to him at the time.

“Go on, tell me why you want it, is it because you’ve gotten yourself into some kind of trouble? What do you need so much money for?” she asked him when she saw that he had been disappointed by her refusal.

He didn’t want to tell her, but you know how grandmothers are, when they want something, they get it. He told her a little about what we were doing. She was surprised, because she had her grandson pegged for a party animal, and that had her a little worried, and every once in a while she would say:

“Young Antonio, now that you’re on vacation, why don’t you come home for a while? I’m all by myself here, and I’ll make you the donuts you love so much.”

To which he always answered:

“Grammy, I’m going out with my friends.”

And he didn’t give her any further explanation, he just left and went days without seeing her.

She was a little sad, but he did not want to tell anyone in his family what we were doing, so he spent the summer saying he was going out with friends, without saying anything else, without giving any explanation about where he went and what he did. We even had to leave him some pants, some old shoes and a shirt so that they wouldn’t notice anything unusual in his house. He was always very careful when picking things up so that he didn’t get calluses, in case anyone in his family saw them.

What he told his grandmother resulted in us having a new bed and many more things. We could never have imagined it, and all because what her grandson had done during the summer had brought her such joy, she said she wanted to meet those people.

Antonio didn’t want to say where he was, nor give her any more information. He left almost without saying goodbye to her, because he thought he’d screwed up, and we were going to be angry about it.

When we met the next day and he told us, we told him:

“Well, I think the parties concerned have to make that decision,” and we all decided to ask the elderly couple, but we also told Antonio: “You should have taken advantage of the situation, you’ve been foolish.”

That was how we arrived at the newly rebuilt house and the couple were surprised because we were scolding Antonio and they asked us what was wrong.

Antonio told them what had happened and that his grandmother wanted to meet them. We also had to tell them about our plans to find them a bed.

“But boys, it’s not like you haven’t done enough already. Don’t bother yourselves any further, and above all don’t bother your families, who have had to spend the whole summer not being able to enjoy being with you all,” they told us in protest, surprised by what we were telling them.

“And what do I tell my Grammy now?” Antonio asked.

They looked at each other and the old man, taking the lead, replied:

“It’s not a problem for us,” he said to Antonio, “but tell her what it’s really like. We wouldn’t want her shoes to be stained with mud.”

Everyone laughed at that remark and Antonio said:

“Papa, that doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” he said very seriously, “don’t laugh, I have my reasons for saying that.”

“Sorry,” we said in unison, embarrassed.

“It’s alright, but I want you to understand that there are people who have never walked these roads, and you already know what they’re like, that’s why it’s better to warn them before they get here.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Antonio said, “my grandmother is one of those folk who like to go hiking, going up into the mountains ‘to take the air,’ as she puts it, and spending all day in the countryside.”

“Well, if she doesn’t mind, we’re happy for her to come,” the woman said.

“Let her come if she wishes,” added the old man, not really convinced.

Antonio told them more calmly:

“Well, next Sunday I’ll let her know.”