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In the morning, he told stories about his time on the construction site. In the afternoon, he read excerpts from construction magazines, talking about new techniques and sustainable projects. Daniela began to accompany the visits and discovered a world about her father she had never known. Manuel told of Rodrigo’s generosity, how he helped workers who were struggling, how he paid for training courses for those who wanted to advance professionally. Her father was the first businessman I knew who remembered every worker’s name.
Manuel told the story. He knew who had children, who was sick, who needed help. What happened to that part of him? Life went on, miss. The pressures, the responsibilities, the need to compete in a tough market. He began to withdraw, to protect himself. Alberto, still suspicious, actually hired a detective to investigate Manuel. The report arrived a week later and confirmed everything. Manuel Hernández Ramírez, 52, independent bricklayer, with no criminal record, known in the region as an honest and dedicated worker. The detective also discovered something else.
Manuel lived in a small house that was being demolished to make way for a new real estate development. The land had been purchased by Rodrigo’s company six months before the collapse. When Daniela found out, she was devastated. “Mr. Manuel, why didn’t you tell me you were losing your house because of our company?” Manuel sighed deeply because he didn’t want them to think he was here for profit. “But that changes everything. You must hate my dad so much, miss.”
I was saddened when I learned it was his father’s company that was buying the land. But never angry. I understand that he didn’t know I lived there. How can you be so understanding, sir? Because holding a grudge only hurts the one who holds it. And because I know that the Rodri I knew would never intentionally take a house away from a friend. Dr. Velázquez was impressed with Rodrigo’s progress. His hand movements were becoming more frequent, and there were signs that he might be trying to open his eyes.
Don Manuel, I’d like to try something different today. I’m going to ask you to tell a very specific story. The day you met Don Rodrigo. Manuel positioned himself very close to the bed and began to narrate. It was a Monday in March, Rodri. Very hot, and you showed up at the construction site wearing a suit and tie. The other bricklayers laughed because no one wears a suit on construction sites, but you said you wanted to show respect for the work and the people. Rodrigo’s eyes began to twitch under their eyelids.
You stayed at the construction site all day asking about every process, writing everything down in a little blue notebook. And when you left, you said you wanted to learn how to build with your own hands, not just your head. A tear escaped Rodrigo’s face. The following week, you returned in work clothes and said you were going to work as a laborer for a month to understand what each person did. No engineer I knew had ever done that before. Rodrigo’s lips moved slightly as if he were trying to speak.
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