Frequencies Unknown: The Secret of the Waterfall

By Verónica Montaner

Florence's grandmother's house led her to discover what had been hidden from her since she was a child, but this was not enough; she had to embark on a long search. She faced situations she had never known before; some of them adverse, others difficult and dangerous, but others exciting and happy. Will Florence's bravery, great hope, and willpow

• Language: English
• Publisher: ibukku, LLC
• Release date: Feb 24, 2024
• ISBN: 9781685746360

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FREQUENCIES

UNKNOWN

The Secret of the Waterfall

Verónica Montaner

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The content of this work is the responsibility of the author and does not necessarily reflect the views of the publishing house. All texts and images were provided by the author, who is solely responsible for their rights.

Published by Ibukku, LLC

www.ibukku.com

Cover Design: Ángel Flores Guerra Bistrain

Graphic Design: Diana Patricia González Juárez

Copyright © 2023 Verónica Montaner

ISBN Paperback: 978-1-68574-635-3

ISBN Hardcover: 978-1-68574-637-7

ISBN eBook: 978-1-68574-636-0

Index

1 GRANDMA’S SURPRISES

2 ENCOUNTERS

3 UNEXPECTED OBSTACLES

4 UNFORESEEN DANGERS

5 CONTINUING THE SEARCH

6 A NEW HOPE

7 UNIMAGINABLE OPPORTUNITY

8 PARTING FROM ROBERTA

9 THE OTHER ENTRANCE

10 LEONARDO

1

GRANDMA’S SURPRISES

Standing at the door, I looked at my room. Only my wardrobe and my bed were safe from all the disorder that reigned there. I shouldn’t be surprised, as this happened every time the school year ended (and many times before it ended), but now it was doubled. Well, I had finished high school. Something told me I couldn’t leave it like this. I entered and put my suitcase on the floor, grabbed my long hair, made a ballet bun, and started to tidy up. It didn’t take long to fill the trash bin and the shelf with folders and notebooks. The floor and my desk were freed from the weight of books, some went into my backpack, and others to another shelf. I heard my father’s footsteps approaching my room. I didn’t manage to grab my suitcase when I saw him on the threshold, dressed in his formal dark blue clothes, with his square face, blue eyes, and short hair perfectly combed.

Are you ready to leave, Florence?

Yes, Dad.

As we left, he glanced at my pants and shirt, but only said:

Your grandfather is waiting for you in the living room.

We went down the stairs. The entrance hallway became narrow with my grandfather’s and father’s broad builds, but luckily I was thin; he wasn’t waiting in the living room anymore, but in the hallway, ready to leave, wearing his dark brown pants and white shirt. He looked at me with his big, stern eyes. We said goodbye to my father and got into the truck. It wasn’t hard to get to the highway. At that time, there wasn’t much traffic, but I was used to cars overtaking us, especially when my grandfather was driving.

I’m surprised you haven’t made any comments! he said.

What do you mean, Grandpa?

A few years ago, I came to pick you up with your grandmother. You would get angry and tell me that the speed limit on highways was one hundred and twenty kilometers per hour, not eighty. Your comment made her laugh, and she remembered it every time we traveled on highways.

I’m too excited about the gift she left me.

Well, it’s not usual to be given a house when you turn eighteen!

I was surprised to learn that the mountain house belonged to her parents.

When she got sick, she only wanted to stay in this house. Shortly before she passed away, she told me to take her to the village to a notary she knew. Her wish was for you to be the sole heir to your great-grandparents’ house and for it to be given to you as her gift when you turned eighteen.

Three years had passed since she had died. Her joy and enthusiasm brought back the scarce memory of my mother, as well as her green eyes and dark blonde hair, which was losing its color among some of her gray hairs. My grandfather also had the same eye and hair color, though with more gray hairs, but unfortunately, they didn’t share the same character.

We left behind about one thousand two hundred kilometers and an inn on the way. I was glad to see the mountains again with their green forests and snowy peaks, and then the houses on the outskirts of the village where my grandfather lived. Houses with white walls and wooden shingles, and I forgot about the long hours stuck in the seat. We reached the crossroads and entered the village. This was the first time I had come since her death. The river’s water level had risen, and fortunately, the bridge was already restored.

He stopped in front of the central plaza, next to a small building.

The notary who your grandmother chose has his office here. This man is going on vacation tomorrow and, as I told you, it wasn’t possible to choose another day or time.

Don’t worry, Grandpa.

We got out and entered an apartment on the first floor.

Do you have an appointment? the secretary asked us.

Yes, he replied.

She notified the notary and led us to his office. At the door, a man of medium height, around fifty years old, greeted us. He was wearing a navy blue suit, a white shirt, and a pink tie. Very kindly, he said,

Please, come in, take a seat!

We sat down in two dark brown leather chairs, in front of a desk and a bookcase filled with books, both made of wood of the same color as the chairs. The notary sat down in front of us.

I have passed on the inheritance certificate.

It’s not necessary, as I have a copy. I’ve taken the liberty of getting everything ready; you just need to sign the deed.

He handed it to me and added,

Before you sign, please review it, check if your name and the address of the house are written correctly.

I read it carefully and found everything to be correct, but before signing, I passed it to my grandfather for him to read. He checked it and told me that I could sign.

After doing so, the notary completed the property registration procedures.

As we left the office, my grandfather said to me:

I’ll take you to your mountain house. Later we’ll return to the house in the village.

We got into the truck, he started the engine and drove back towards the junction. I felt a strange sensation, but I was happy.

The dust from the road made me close the window, and my grandfather did the same. The hills became steep and the turns sharp. We had left the valley and were ascending the mountain.

Do you remember which bend the path that leads to the house is behind? he asked me.

Behind the ninth, so the next turn.

I’m glad you haven’t forgotten!

Grandpa turned right. About five hundred meters from the road, larch and birch trees surrounded the stone and wood house. We arrived bouncing and jolting as if we were riding a wild horse.

I also haven’t forgotten that the path is anything but flat, Grandpa!

He smiled and we got out of the truck.

We have a beautiful sunny day! he said, looking at the garden thermometer. With a temperature of twenty-two degrees Celsius! And we walked towards the door. I expected him to open it, but he looked at me with his stern eyes and I remembered that he had given me the keys in front of the notary. I took them out of my backpack and opened the door.

Let’s open the windows, he said after entering, to let the air and sun in.

There’s no musty smell, Grandpa!

No, because I’ve been here a couple of days before.

The house was a single story. It hadn’t changed at all; it was still the house with the hallways. Upon opening the door, a hallway greeted us where jackets, among other things, were hung. Further on, a door led to a room; to the right was the living room with three sofas upholstered with a pink floral pattern with green leaves and a fireplace in the center; to the left, the dining room with a wooden table and chairs upholstered in green velvet and a cabinet for storing dishes. The center of the room continued towards another hallway; to the left was the kitchen and to the right the library. This hallway led into another. To the right, there were three bedrooms and to the left, two more bedrooms and the bathroom, finally ending in a door that opened to the patio.

My legs felt stiff—no wonder after the long journey! I needed to go for a walk. I told Grandpa.

Don’t take too long, he replied.

I won’t.

I walked in a direction perpendicular and opposite to the road we had come up. I took a deep breath in and then exhaled that air I had missed, a mix of pine and wild bush scent. Fifty meters on, I veered off and climbed up the thick roots of trees that seemed like steps (my favorite shortcut), and they helped me reach the path lined with larches and ferns. I kept walking until I heard the roaring sound of falling water and carefully descended among the stones. I reached the riverbank, walked over the sandy ground, then over rocks, passed the willows and pines, and saw the great fury of the water as it leapt and fell, forming a dense mist, and the river continued. I was glad to see that the waterfall remained exactly the same. I sat on a rock, a gentle breeze full of water droplets caressed my face. I could never tire of admiring it.

I’ll wear my bikini tomorrow, I told myself, and bathe near it again. Absorbed in watching it, I didn’t realize how long I had sat there until I heard a ting... I looked at my cell phone; it was my grandfather, waiting for me to come back for lunch. I stood up and walked back the same way.

You’ve set the table, Grandpa!

Yes, because I’m as hungry as you are! Isn’t that right?

Yes, it is!

I hope you like what I’ve prepared, it’s something simple.

Everything you make is delicious.

I didn’t know that! Thanks for the compliment.

He had made a stew in the pot with beef, potatoes, broccoli, cauliflower, and carrots.

I’ll clear the table and wash the dishes, go rest, I said when we finished lunch.

None of that, we’ll do it together, just as I did with your grandmother.

I knew I couldn’t insist. He washed the dishes and pots he had used, and I dried them.

After we tidied up, Grandpa sat down on one of the sofas (which were not his favorite, mainly because of the upholstery), and I joined him. The weariness from the trip overcame me and I fell asleep. After a while, I woke up with my head resting on his shoulder, and I wasn’t the only one who had fallen asleep. I wasn’t used to his snoring, but fortunately, after a few minutes, he woke up.

We’ve slept more than we should have, he said, it’s time to go back to the village.

Can I stay here, Grandpa, for a few days?

You don’t have to ask me, Florence, this is your house. He stood up and said, I’ll go get your suitcase.

He left the room and I remained sitting on the sofa. Grandpa came back quickly and before continuing to the other hallway, without stopping, he asked:

In the same room?

Yes, Grandpa, thank you very much.

I got up from the sofa and he was coming back.

I have to go now, there’s enough food in the pantry and the fridge for a few days.

I approached him and gave him a hug.

These mountains are quite peaceful, and just like in the village, there’s nothing to worry about, but I’ll feel more at ease if you promise me that every day you stay, you will lock the doors before going to bed.

I promise, Grandpa.

I walked with him until he got into the truck. He started the