The

9
LIVES
of
ALFRED
MERCHEN
1 THE SECRET
OF OPPENHEIMER

Diego Pineda
with Diana & Daniel Pineda
The 9 Lives of Alfred Merchen:
The Secret of Oppenheimer
Copyright © 2023 by Diego Pineda
(with Diana y Daniel Pineda). All rights reserved.

This novel is a work of fiction. The characters, plot, and

incidents are products of the authors’ imagination. The
characters are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual
persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Reproduction, in whole or in part, of this work, includ-

ing its incorporation into any computer system, or
transmission in any form or by any means (electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise),
without the prior written permission of the copyright
holders is prohibited. Violation of these rights may
constitute a crime against intellectual property.

First Edition

Cover design: Stefanye Franco

ISBN: 978-1-7388177-3-3
ISBN E-book: 978-1-7388177-1-9

© Rhema Books is an imprint of Vision & Leadership

Books
Kelowna, BC, Canada
For the teachers and students of
Rhema E-School.
WASHINGTON, DC - 1945
The Man bit his lower liP and taPPed his fin-
gers on his knee as the car left the White House
behind.
“How was the meeting with the president,
sir?” the driver asked, glancing at the rearview
mirror.
The man grunted and shrugged.
“I see,” the driver said and focused on the
road ahead.
The man turned to look out the back window.
A black Cadillac followed them at a distance.
“Can you go faster? Turn left at the corner, now!”
“But, sir, the red light.”
“Do it, Charles!”
Charles stepped on the gas and swerved left,
almost hitting a truck. He made a couple more
random turns — he knew the drill.
“I think we lost them,” the man said after a
few blocks. He sighed and laid his head on the
backrest.
He pulled a pocket watch out of his jacket
and stared at it for a long time.
“Charles?”

5
 The 9 LIVES of

“Yes, sir?”
“Find a phone and call David. Tell him to
meet us at the airport.”
One hour and forty-three minutes later, the
car pulled up at the new Washington National
Airport.
The man stepped out of the car, pulled his
hat down as if to cover his face, and scurried to
the terminal. Inside, he spotted a short, round
guy in a long coat. David.
There was no one around. The man smiled,
his muscles relaxed.
David spotted him and waved. He motioned
to David to follow him.
There was a semi-dark corner behind a col-
umn, perfect for them to talk privately. They
huddled in the tight space.
“Shalom, Robert,” David said. “What’s go-
ing on?”
“The meeting did not go well, David.
The president won’t back down. The world is
doomed.”
“Did you tell him about—?”
“No. He can’t know. Nobody can. At least
not yet.”
David took off his hat and wiped the sweat
from his forehead with the back of his hand.
“So what now?”
Something caught Robert’s attention. Two

6
 ALFRED MERCHEN

burly men had entered the airport. His pulse

quickened. He had seen them at the White
House. Secret Service.
“There’s not much time,” Robert said, fum-
bling with his jacket. “You must keep it safe.”
Robert handed David his pocket watch.
“Leave the country today if possible,” Rob-
ert said. “Go back to Poland. The watch is your
responsibility now.”
David nodded and stared at the shiny round
watch in his hands. It seemed to glow in the dark,
and he could feel the raw energy it contained.
He hesitated as if feeling that this was too big of
a task for him.
“Robert, I…”
But when he looked up, his mentor was gone.

7
MEDELLIN, COLOMBIA – 2019
SANTIAGO
GrandPa caMe to live with us on a hot De-
cember night. Everyone thought it would be just
another flash Christmas visit, but fate had its plans.
“Thanks for illuminating the street in my
honor,” he said as he crossed the hallway and
climbed the stairs to the second floor.
Sofia gave me her I-don’t-get it look, and I
shrugged. Whatever.
We understood his joke an hour later. It was
el día de las velitas, the day of the candles, and the
neighbors had lit long rows of candles on the
sidewalk all around the block.
“Abuelo is very funny, don’t you think?” my
sister said.
I didn’t answer. I was hypnotized by the little
light orbs all over the street. Not funny; he was
kind of weird, actually.
Abuelo Alfredo was as mysterious as you
could get. He didn’t wear old-guy clothes, but
jeans and black turtleneck t-shirts, like Steve
Jobs. His face seemed to be made out of rock;

8
 ALFRED MERCHEN

his wrinkles never moved. And his accent…

well, you couldn’t really tell where he was from.
Sofi and I were on the balcony that joined
our bedrooms from the outside, escaping the
boredom of the house during our month-long
Christmas break. We always got all of Decem-
ber and part of January off.
I actually missed school. The thing was that
my school was different. I wasn’t forced to study
any boring subjects but got to work on the stuff
I liked: robotics and programming. There was
nothing I loved more than technology. Well, ex-
cept for superhero movies.
My sister was the opposite. She was an art
freak. Always had more paintbrushes than dolls,
and the ones she did have ended up with their
faces painted all the colors possible. And she got
to do that at school as well.
That was why we hated school breaks. They
were tedious and boring.
Little did we know that the arrival of our
grandpa would turn our school break upside
down and mark the rest of our lives like an as-
teroid crashing into a city.

9
 1
SANTIAGO
I Knew soMething was wrong when i PeeKed
into the kitchen and there was no sign of the epic
Sunday breakfast we always had.
The kitchen and the dining table were empty.
Of humans, that is, because Chester, Sofi’s cat,
was spying on me from his royal cushion, like a
medieval gargoyle.
Obviously, Sofi would not get out of bed until
after ten, but my parents? They should be pil-
ing pancakes with fruits and all sorts of sweet
spreads by now. Sugar was the love of my life.
My tummy rumbled when I saw the empty
table, and I felt chills. I could not cook anything
even if my life depended on it. I was going to
starve really soon for sure….
Then I heard voices.
I tiptoed to my parent’s closed bedroom door
and held my breath to eavesdrop.
“No, Yaz,” Daddy said. “I don’t think it’s fair
that your dad just shows up without notice and
you welcome him with open arms.”
“And what do you expect me to do?” Mom
said. “Throw him out? Ask him to go to a hotel?

10
 ALFRED MERCHEN

I hardly see him, and the kids don’t know him

well.”
“Exactly. He’s not setting a good example
for them. That’s not how a grandfather should
behave.”
“Oh, I see what you’re doing. You want to
compare my family to yours.”
“Of course I do. My family is very tight. We
see each other almost every week, and they care
about our kids. My dad is a great grandfather,
and he was always a responsible father… not
like yours.”
Yep, it was true that we often saw Abuelo
Ricardo, but it wasn’t like I liked him a lot. Not
after what he did to me.
They were silent, and I could just picture
Mom’s fiery eyes, like Cyclops from X-Men, slic-
ing Daddy in half.
“It’s true, Yaz. Didn’t he abandon you
when you were little? And then he showed up
and left you again? He keeps breaking your
heart. He wasn’t even around when the kids
were born.”
“Why don’t you give him a chance?”
“Because I don’t want him to hurt you, Yaz.
I don’t like to see you depressed. He’s going to
leave again, and ... I don’t want that for the kids,
that they’ll get attached to him and then they
won’t see him again.”

11
 The 9 LIVES of

They stopped talking, and I could tell my

mom was crying. I dropped to the floor to peek
under the door and saw Dad’s old slippers and
Mom’s bare feet.
“What are you doing?”
My sister’s voice made my heart jump, and
I screamed in terror.
Three point five seconds later, Daddy opened
the door, and I felt like Tony Stark when his dad
found him in his lab with a stolen infinity stone.
“Santiago Andrés Cárdenas! What are you
doing there?”
“Well, uh, I’m, I was searching for an infin-
ity stone, I mean, sorry, a coin that…”
I didn’t know what to say. I sucked at
telling lies.
Daddy frowned. I wasn’t fooling him.
“Where’s breakfast?” said Sofi.
Blessed interruption!
I stood up as fast as Barry Allen and nod-
ded a million times. “Right, right, where are
the pancakes?”
Mom sneaked through the door and past Dad
and walked to the kitchen. “Oh my, it’s late,” she
said. “I’ll make breakfast.”
“Mommy, why are you crying?” said Sofi.
“Adult stuff, mi amor, but don’t worry, it’s
nothing.”
Sofi looked at me like saying “if you know

12
 ALFRED MERCHEN

something, you better tell me soon or I’ll tell Dad

what you did to his favorite tie.”
I smiled and pointed to the second floor.
“Where are you going?” Daddy said when
we started for the stairs.
“To look for Santi’s coin,” Sofi lied. “I think
I saw it on the balcony yesterday.”

13
 2
SOFÍA
“that’s it? i don’t thinK it’s that bad,” I told
my brother when he finished his story.
“I think Daddy’s right. Grandpa shouldn’t
have come.”
We had already searched the house and
Grandpa wasn’t here, so we were free to talk.
“I like Abuelo,” I said. “He’s nice.”
“But he’s not setting a good ex—there he
comes!”
Grandpa was walking towards the house,
holding something in his hand.
“Hi, abue!” I called from the balcony.
His eyes found me, and he gave me a sweet
smile and a hand wave.
Then he entered the house.
“Now what?” Santi said in my ear.
“Breakfast!”
We went downstairs and sat with the whole
family at the table.
“This is my favorite food,” my brother said.
“All types of food are your favorite,” I said,
and he nodded.
The pancakes were yummy, but everybody

14
 ALFRED MERCHEN

was quiet, looking at their plates. Except for

Abuelo, who read the newspaper without notic-
ing us. He had finished his pancakes first. He
ate them in a couple of bites and didn’t put any-
thing on them.
It was the fi rst time I’d seen someone eat-
ing pancakes without syrup or anything. I liked
mine with fruit and only picked the ones that
had chocolate chips. Santi was the worst. His
pancakes swam on a sea of jam and syrup.
“Why’s nobody talking?” I said.
Mommy blinked, as if waking up from a
daydream.
“What were you doing out this morning,
Dad?” she said.
Abuelo stopped reading and looked at Mom-
my over his glasses.
“I went for a walk and bought the newspa-
per. You don’t buy the newspaper?”
“There’s no need,” Dad said. “We can read
the news on the Internet. You know what the
internet is, right?”
“I prefer the hard copy,” Abuelo said.
He removed his glasses and turned towards
my brother and me. Santi didn’t look at him
and pretended to be busy with his food. As for
me, I liked Abuelo’s eyes and the white hair that
fell over his forehead. I felt safe and at peace
around him.

15
 The 9 LIVES of

He was always relaxed, not like my parents,

who were stressed all the time.
“Sofi, did you know I worked at a newspa-
per for five years?”
I shook my head.
“You? Really?” said Mommy, her eyes wide.
“Of course. I was the foreign attaché for the
Washington Post in the Middle East.”
A terrible noise came out of Dad’s throat.
We all looked at him, and he froze in his place.
“Are you okay, Sergio?” said Abuelo.
“Hum, yes, yes. I just choked on my food,
but I’m okay now.”
“Oh, okay, because I know CPR, in case
you need it.”
“No, thanks, I’m alright,” Dad said and then
stood up. “Excuse me.”
Mommy also rose. “I’ll do the dishes. I hope
you enjoyed breakfast.”
“Thank you, daughter.”
For a brief moment, Santi and I were by our-
selves with Abuelo, and I felt the urge to ask him
tons of questions. And just when I was about to
ask him about his job at the newspaper, Santi
grabbed me by the arm.
“Let’s go watch TV, Sofi,” he said, pulling
me towards the living room. “I think there’s a
good movie on right now.”

16
 3
SANTIAGO
This was not good. i had not seen Daddy so
edgy in a while. Not since I used his office com-
puter to browse the dark web. Geez, he was fu-
rious that time, not sure why.
Everyone seemed tense, except for Sofi. May-
be because of her age. Of course, she was only
ten, so she couldn’t be as mature as me. I was
the big brother, and I had to take care of her. In
fact, that day was my halfway birthday. I was
turning twelve and a half.
Sadly, nobody noticed. And it was Grand-
pa’s fault.
It seems all grandfathers are the same. Abue-
lo Ricardo broke his promises, and abuelo Alfre-
do was an absent dad who made my mom suffer.
“This movie is dumb!” Sofi moaned. “I know
what I’ll do instead.”
She left and later came back with her kit to
make bracelets, the one that had those round
plastic thingies, or whatever they were called.
She spread her stuff over the coffee table and
began to hum as she inserted the beads (that’s
what they’re called!) one by one into the nylon

17
 The 9 LIVES of

string. Usually, I would tell her to go to her room

(she was a bit noisy and I wanted to watch the
movie), but now it was better to have her under
my watch. I didn’t want her to go and talk to
the enemy, you know.
So I lay down on the sofa and turned up the
volume of the TV. Chester appeared out of no-
where and sat by my feet. That was one weird cat.
All this family conflict was choking me. So I
tried to concentrate on the movie: a ninja sneaked
into the hotel room of the main character while
he slept. Uh oh. The ninja was going to kill the
guy. But wait, there was someone else in the
room. It was a kid with a monkey. Uh? The kid
screamed. The ninja screamed. The hero woke
up and dodged the needle in the ninja’s hand.
Oh my, now they were fighting! More people
showed up and beat the ninjas.
“Ninjas nowadays are the worst.”
Grandpa’s voice startled me, and I sat right
up. “Ay, mamita!”
He was seated in the chair right behind Sofi,
Chester over his legs. When did the cat get there?
“You should watch movies with ninjas from
the ‘80s,” said grandpa. “Those were really good.
Nobody could beat them; they were invincible.”
“What? Who?” I said. My heart was beating
at a million miles per hour. It seemed everyone
in this house wanted to cause me a heart attack.

18
 ALFRED MERCHEN

“The ninjas from the ’80s. The true ninjas.”

“How do you know so much about ninjas?”
Sofi said.
“Because when I lived in Japan, I was a ninja
for five years.”
Sofi and I giggled, but Grandpa’s expression
was the same as if he had told us that he ate pan-
cakes for breakfast.
“Seriously?” Sofi said.
“And that was before or after you worked for
the Washington Post?” I heard my daddy say,
and that scared me again.
“Agh, c’mon, please make some noise when
you come around me,” I said.
“Many years before,” Grandpa said. “In the
’80s, obviously.”
Daddy rolled his eyes and went over to his
room. I also rolled my eyes. Grandpa’s jokes were
not funny anymore.
“I want to know more, abue, please, please,”
Sofi said with her high-pitched voice. Here I
was trying to protect her and she was deceived
so easily.
“Well, it’s a fascinating story, but a bit long.
So if you have the patience to lis—”
“Aaaaahhhhh!”
A terrifying scream interrupted him. And
this time it wasn’t me, I swear.
.

19
 4
SOFÍA
“MoMMY!”
Abuelo and I ran to the kitchen. Santi came
behind us (he’s always the slowpoke).
Dad ran out of his room.
“What happened, amor?” Dad said.
“A thief, there’s a thief in the house,” Mom-
my said. She was breathing hard.
“Where?”
Mommy pointed with her finger. “Upstairs.
I saw the shadow of someone moving across the
wall. I was standing by the table when I heard
a noise and then saw the shadow.”
Dad looked up towards the railing over the
dining table. “Are you sure? It could have been
one of the kids or your dad.”
“The three of us were here,” I said.
“Yes, I heard you talking,” Mommy said.
“That’s why I got scared. But let’s do something,
they could still be upstairs.”
“Let’s call the police,” Santi said.
“I should check fi rst,” Dad said, grabbing
one of the big cutting knives and putting on a
brave expression.

20
 ALFRED MERCHEN

“You go, Sergio,” Mommy said. “We’ll go

outside and ask the neighbors for—”
At that moment, there was a loud noise up-
stairs.
“Ay, mamita, what was that?” my brother cried.
“Where’s abuelo?” I said.
Mommy covered her face with her hands,
and Dad ran out the kitchen and climbed up
the stairs. Santi and I ran after him.
Dad went straight to the guest room where
Abuelo was staying, but he stood at the door and
did not enter. He gasped and extended his hand
toward us. He wanted us to stop. Then he went
into the room.
“This is like a superhero movie,” Santi said,
“and Daddy is the hero.”
I frowned and put a finger over my lips so
he would be quiet. My body trembled a little.
Something was wrong.
Dad bolted out of the room and called over
the railing, “Yaz, call an ambulance now!”
Everything went cold inside of me.
“Let’s take a look,” Santi said and pulled me
to follow him.
The room was a mess. Stuff covered the floor,
and everything seemed to be upside down. The
wind coming through the window made the cur-
tain look like a ghost floating over Abuelo’s body.
This time it was me who screamed.

21
 The 9 LIVES of

The minutes and hours that followed were

chaos that I’d like to forget. The ambulance took
Abuelo while all the neighbors watched and gos-
siped around us. Dad rushed us into the car, and
we followed the ambulance to the hospital.
Everything felt strange and distant, like some
abstract art pieces that you can’t quite guess
what they are. It took an eternity for them to
take Abuelo out of the emergency room and
into a private room. That was when everything
seemed to feel real again.
They plugged him into a machine that
beeped very loudly every other second. Santi cov-
ered his ears, but my parents didn’t seem to care.
“The concussion is not very serious as the
swelling is moderate,” the doctor said. She was
Black and very pretty. “However, he’s been un-
conscious for more than two hours, so it can be
delicate, especially at his age. What happened?”
“Someone hit him in the head,” Mommy
said. “A thief. And I think they used one of my
husband’s trophies.”
“A bowling trophy,” Dad said. “I was a bowl-
ing champion.”
Mommy scowled at Dad like saying, “Seri-
ously, Sergio Cárdenas? Seriously?”
The doctor wrote something in her notes.
“Well, we’ll know with certainty if there was
any brain damage when we get the CT scan

22
 ALFRED MERCHEN

back. He must stay overnight so we can monitor

him. I assume the nurse informed you already
that visitors are not allowed after six p.m.”
My parents nodded, and we all turned to
look at Abuelo.
It was the first time I had seen an unconscious
person. I would have thought it was going to be
scary, but no. In fact, he just seemed to be hav-
ing a nice nap.
“Doctor Rendón will come by later to see
Don Alfredo and inform you about the CT scan
results,” the doctor said. “Have a good day.”
When the doctor left, Dad stood at the foot
of the bed and smirked.
“So much for a ninja,” he whispered.
“What did you say, Sergio?” Mommy said.
“Nothing, nothing. Does anybody want
something from the cafeteria?
Santi jumped off his seat. “Meeeeee!” Then
he slumped his arms like a zombie and grabbed
Dad’s arm. “Let’s go, let’s go, I’m starving!”
“Do you want to come, Sofi?” Dad said.
“No, I’ll stay with Abuelo.”
“Me too,” Mommy said. “Please bring me
a tinto.”
After they left, Mommy and I said nothing for
a while until I got tired of the machine’s beeping.
“Abuelo says he used to be a ninja, but Dad
doesn’t believe him.”

23
 The 9 LIVES of

“A ninja? Seriously?” She laughed.

“I do believe him.”
“Well, he does have a ninja trait in him, and
it’s that he appears and disappears when you
least expect him.”
Her eyes fi lled with tears, and she sighed.
“Tell me more about Abuelo, Mommy.”
She seemed to think about it.
“The truth is that I don’t really know him, you
know? He only lived with us until I was six. When
I was twelve or thirteen I received a pair of letters.
He said he had written lots of letters to me, but I
never got them. I think I only saw him once before
Santi was born. Then I didn’t hear from him for
about five years. I thought I’d never see him again
until seven or eight years ago, when he called me.
He’s been in touch since then and has visited dur-
ing Hanukkah. You remember that, right?”
“I remember one gift. A teddy bear so big
that it hardly fit through the door.”
We laughed, but then Mommy began to sob.
I hugged her hard.
“You were seven,” she said. “He gave me a
teddy bear just like that one when I was a kid.”
“Where is my teddy bear, by the way?”
“Still in the garage with all of the stuff we
haven’t unpacked from the move.”
Mommy dried her tears and looked at me
with a bit of shame.

24
 ALFRED MERCHEN

“I know they’ve been there for two years,”

she said, “but I haven’t had… I haven’t made
the time.”
“That’s where all the Christmas presents
from Abuelo must be.”
“Not all of them. But most. Which one did
you like the best?”
That was an easy one.
“Last year’s!”
“Of course, Chester!”
I smiled, thinking about my cat. We both
just sat there staring at Abuelo’s chest rising up
and going down rhythmically.
“Tell me something nice about Abuelo,” I
said, still looking at his chest.
“Well, Abuela Margarita met him in Spain,
when he was the singer for a rock band.”
“Abuelo was a singer?”
“Yes. And apparently, he was very good. My
mother told me they went on tour around all
Europe. In fact, I was born there, in Madrid.”
“Ah, I knew that already. But they brought
you to Colombia when you were a baby. So it
really doesn’t count. You’re not from Spain.”
She giggled. “What? What do you mean it
doesn’t count?”
“I think it counts,” said a soft voice.
“Dad!”
“Abue!”

25
 The 9 LIVES of

His eyes were barely open, but he was smil-

ing.
“How do you feel?” said Mommy, leaning
over him.
“Wonderful,” said Abuelo. “Just like being a
rock star for five years. The best time of my life.”
He put both hands on his forehead and
winced.
“Does it hurt a lot, Dad?”
He closed his eyes and shrugged.
“I’ve had worse.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “Everything is going
to be okay. Doctors here are very good.”
“You’ll be here overnight, but we can take
you home tomorrow,” Mommy said. “I talked to
Mom and asked her to come and help us. She’s
coming from Bogotá tomorrow.”
Abuelo opened his eyes wide. “No, no, no.
She doesn’t need to come. She has her life, stuff
to do. Why did you do that?”
“Are you afraid of seeing her again?” Mom-
my said.
He didn’t answer.
“Dad, what happened at the house today?
Who attacked you?”
Abuelo looked away and opened his mouth
for a second as if to say something, but he didn’t.
Then he turned to us, no emotion in his face.
“I don’t know. I didn’t see.”

26
 5
SANTIAGO
When i woKe uP MondaY Morning, MY siXth
sense was on high alert. My instincts told me some-
thing wasn’t right, but I didn’t know what. Yet.
I dressed up quickly (no time to waste taking
a shower) and rushed out of my room. As I came
down the stairs, I thought I heard my daddy’s
voice, which was odd at this time of day.
“Why aren’t you at the office?” I asked when
I saw him drinking coffee in the kitchen, already
dressed in his suit. He looked like the professor
from Money Heist, but younger.
“I’m working from home in the morning
because I have to pick up your grandma at the
airport at noon.”
“Yeeesss, abuelita!” Sofi yelled from behind
me, and if I were a cat I would have jumped to
the roof.
“Come have breakfast,” said Mom, placing
plates of arepas and fried eggs on the table. “And
then you go out to the park to play. I don’t want
you staring at screens all day.”
We devoured the food, spreading cream
cheese and spicy ají over the arepa. (Okay, okay,

27
 The 9 LIVES of

that was me… Sofi just used butter and salt, like
Mom.)
A cell phone rang, and Mom answered.
“Hello... yes, with her... uh-huh, tell me…”
Her face changed from relaxed to worried.
After a while, during which anxiety altered the
taste of our breakfast, she ended the call.
“It was from the hospital, right?” my dad
said.
Mom nodded.
“Dad woke up unwell, with a swelling in his
skull. They’re going to admit him for surgery.”
“Do you want me to take you to the hospi-
tal?”
“No, what can I do there while he’s in sur-
gery? Better to wait until my mom gets here, and
we’ll go with her.”
We fi nished breakfast in silence, and then
Sofi and I slipped out of the house.
“Santi...” said Sofi once we were in the street.
“What?”
“Do you think Grandpa is going to be okay?”
“Of course! Don’t worry.”
The truth was, I didn’t know what was going
to happen. Even though I still had my suspicions
about Grandpa, I felt sorry for the old man and
didn’t want to see Mom suffer.
The park was three blocks from the house,
down two streets and then a left turn onto anoth-

28
 ALFRED MERCHEN

er street. It was obviously deserted at that time of

the morning, because all my friends were prob-
ably on YouTube or playing Xbox. Sofi’s little
friends were surely doing silly things on TikTok.
And here we were, banished from our home!
There were only two adults walking their
dogs. Sofi, the hardened animal lover, didn’t
waste a second and left me alone so she could
play with the cocker spaniel that was peeing
from tree to tree on the other side of the park.
I sat on a bench and pulled out my phone.
Maybe this time I could connect to the free Wi-
Fi that was supposedly in the park. But it was
easier to catch the golden snitch in a game of
Quidditch than to grab a hint of signal to even
download a text message.
Indeed, after fifteen minutes, all I managed
to get was the pixelated dinosaur from Chrome
when there was no internet. And I think I would
have broken my record jumping cacti if the dogs
hadn’t left and thus sent my little sister back.
“I’m bored! Let’s go home.”
“Good idea. This here is a black hole of con-
nectivity.”
We started for home, and halfway down the
block, I felt the uncertainty that had woken me
up that morning.
A chill ran down my spine when I saw the
door wide open. Sofi went in as if nothing was

29
 The 9 LIVES of

wrong and announced herself as soon as she

crossed the threshold.
“Mommy, we’re home!”
Silence.
Sofi went up to the second floor, but I went
into my parents’ room.
“Dad? Mom? Where are you?”
The mess in the kitchen made me stop
abruptly. Broken dishes and food scraps on the
floor.
“Where is everyone?”
I ran to the main bedroom, but there was no
one, not even in the bathroom. Then I ran to
the second floor, looking into each room. First
mine, then Sofi’s.
“Dad! Dad!” Panic began to choke me.
“Mom!”
Sof i came out of her room behind me,
alarmed by my shouts.
“Santi, stop making a fuss.”
I ignored her and went to the guest room.
No one. They weren’t home.
Everything looked more disordered than the
day before, except this time there was a piece of
paper pinned to the door with a knife.
“What’s that?”
All the images of the action movies I’d seen
in my life flooded my brain, but no Oscar-wor-
thy phrase came out at that moment.

30
 ALFRED MERCHEN

“I don’t know.”
“It’s got something written by hand,” said
Sofi, examining the sheet on the door, “but it’s
not in Spanish. It looks like scribbles.”
I took a deep breath and tried to swallow my
fear. I approached the door to see better. I had
seen that language in a World War II movie I
watched with my dad on Netflix. It wasn’t an al-
phabet like ours, nor did it have the little circles
and lines of Russian or those languages from
over there. I thought for a while until I knew
where I had seen it.
“It’s not scribbles,” I said in my best James
Bond accent. “It’s Hebrew.”

31
 6
SOFÍA
“where are MY Parents, santi? MoMMY!”
“There’s no one in the house,” Santi said with
a seriousness I’d never seen before.
“And where did they go? Mom never leaves
us alone without notice.”
“We need to translate this note.”
Santi ripped the piece of paper off the door
and spent a while with his eyes glued to it.
“Santi, you don’t know ebrio.” 1
“Hebrew. But Google does. Let’s go.”
I followed Santi to his room. He sat in the
chair at his desk and turned on the laptop. The
bed was unmade, and I had to remove some
comic books at the foot of it to sit down. A dozen
superheroes were looking at me from the shelves
on the wall.
We were so different.
When the computer started, I stood next
to him. Something brushed my legs, and I got
scared.
“Aah, Chester, it’s you.”

1. Ebrio means “drunk” in Spanish. It sounds like Hebreo (Hebrew).

32
 ALFRED MERCHEN

I picked him up to hug him and petted him

over and over while Santi got impatient with the
computer that wasn’t starting.
“And how are you going to translate it if it’s
handwritten?” I said.
“That’s what I’m going to find out.”
He began to type in Google and then to read
like a nerd.
I was not interested in computers unless it
was to watch drawing tutorials.
“Aha, I got it!” said Santi. He took his phone
out of his pocket. “I need to download the Google
Translate app.”
“I don’t think it will work.”
“We’ll see.”
The scribbles on the paper were like incom-
plete squares with lines and dashes on the sides.
I peeked over my brother’s shoulder. Santi
opened the app on his phone and selected “He-
brew” on the left and “English” on the right.
Then he pressed the camera icon and put the
phone on the paper on the desk.
“Now I scan it….”
In a couple of seconds, the app recognized
the letters. Santi pressed one more button, and
then the text was there, in English.
“Let me see,” I said, trying to snatch the
phone from him.
He pulled hard to keep it from me and, in

33
 The 9 LIVES of

the struggle, the device flew out, hit a wall, and

fell to the floor. I held my breath for a moment.
“Nooo!” Santi screamed. “My precious
phone! My life!”
My brother lunged for his most treasured
possession and picked it up from the floor like a
wounded baby. His face made an expression of
horror before transforming into a monster.
“You broke the screen, Sofia!”
“I didn’t… I… no…” My hands cooled and
my voice trembled. “Sorry.”
“And it turned off from the blow. Now who
knows if it will turn on.”
He pressed the power button and kept look-
ing at the screen angrily. It was surely my imagi-
nation, but it seemed like smoke was coming out
of his ears.
“You’re going to have to pay for it from your
savings, Sofia Margarita.”
I wanted to run away and hide, but in real-
ity, I wanted to know what the scribbles said.
“It wasn’t my fault,” I said. “Why didn’t you
let me see it?”
This time he ignored me, focused on the
screen that lit up.
“It’s okay, see?” I said.
“Of course not. The glass is cracked.”
“Well, that can be fixed. The important thing
now is to know what the paper says.”

34
 ALFRED MERCHEN

“It didn’t save. I have to scan it again.”

Santi repeated the process, and the text in
English appeared again, this time with a line
in the middle where the glass of the phone had
cracked. I held back the urge to snatch it from
him and waited for him to read.
Several seconds passed, and he said nothing.
“What does it say?” I said.
“It’s a note for Grandpa. Some words didn’t
translate well, but the message is clear.”
Santi’s eyes were somewhere in space.
“What are we going to do now?” said San-
ti, his face wrinkling in anguish. “At times like
this, it would be really good to be friends with
Bruce Wayne.”
“Who?”
“Batman.”
“Oh, silly! Give me the phone then if you’re
not going to tell me what it says.”
I didn’t expect him to give it to me, but he
handed it over just like that and sat in front of
the desk with his face in his hands. Although
Santi was the king of drama, this time his reac-
tion seemed genuine.
I sat back down on the bed and began to
read. In some parts, there were squares instead
of letters, perhaps where the app couldn’t trans-
late the scribbles. The note said:

35
 The 9 LIVES of

Alfred, I know you have the ���. But I have your

daughter and son-in-law. I propose an exchange. You
have until midnight tomorrow to �������. If you
don’t deliver, I will do to them what the guards did to
us in Wadi el-Natrun. I will be in touch.
Y.

36
 7
SANTIAGO
A nd what were we going to do now?
My dad would know what to do, but he was
the one in danger at the moment. It was just Sofi
and me, no adults. Grandpa in the hospital and...
“We have to go to the hospital to get Grand-
pa,” I said as soon as the brilliant idea came to
me. “This note is for him. He’ll know what to do.”
Strange. The note was not on the desk.
“Right, Sofi?”
Sofi said nothing. I turned around and saw
her out on the balcony overlooking the street. I
went out onto the balcony.
“What are you doing out here?” I said.
A strong wind messed up my hair and made
the glass doors of our rooms tremble.
“Thinking,” said Sofi.
“Are you sad?”
“Sad? I don’t know, I guess... I’m confused,”
said Sofi. She showed me the macabre piece of
paper clenched in her left hand. “What does this
note mean, Santi? What does it mean that he has
the daughter and son-in-law? What’s he talking
about? And who is this person signing with a ‘Y’?”

37
 The 9 LIVES of

Maybe being the older one, or having seen

more action movies than her (in fact, she didn’t
like any type of movie), I understood better what
was happening.
“I don’t know who wrote the note,” I said,
putting a hand on her shoulder. “But I think
what the note is saying is that this person has
kidnapped our parents.”
Sofi’s eyes widened and fi lled with tears. She
pressed her lips together tightly, then crumpled
the paper in her hand, threw it off the balcony,
and ran to her room.
The paper hadn’t even touched the asphalt
when the wind carried it away along with the
fallen leaves that usually filled the sidewalk. The
note rolled and disappeared at the end of the
block, just like when Captain Marvel left Earth
to save other planets.
Something told me I should retrieve it, as it
was evidence to call the police or at least to show
it to Grandpa. But it was too far away.
My sister’s crying brought me back to reality.
I found her with her head buried in her pil-
low, crying tears of fear. Chester had lain down
next to her with one paw on her leg. It was as if
he knew what was happening.
“Everything is going to be fine, Sofi,” I said.
I put my hand on her back. “We’re going to find
someone to help us. Grandpa will know what to

38
 ALFRED MERCHEN

do. All he has to do is give them what they’re

asking for.”
Sofi didn’t say anything. After a while, her
crying calmed down and she only sighed from
time to time.
I don’t know why, but I didn’t feel like crying
or hiding in my room. I had a strange feeling
that I had to take action and wait to feel. The
emotions would come later.
The hands of Sofi’s wall clock were two paint-
brushes. They marked 10:44 AM.
Grandpa was in surgery. And I didn’t know
how to get to the hospital to show him the note.
But the note was lost in the wind!
Sofi fell asleep. I left her in her bed and went
for my phone. The shattered glass churned my
stomach, but I calmed down once I saw the trans-
lation was still open in the app. I took a picture
of the screen and read it again.

Alfred, I know you have the ���. But I have your

daughter and son-in-law. I propose an exchange. You
have until midnight tomorrow to �������. If you
don’t hand it over, I’ll do to them what the guards did to
us in Wadi el-Natrun. I’ll be in touch.
–Y.

What did Grandpa have that this person

wanted? And what was Wadi el-Natrun?

39
 The 9 LIVES of

Google should know.

I typed “Wadi el-Natrun” in the search bar.
The first result was from Wikipedia, but it cor-
rected the spelling of the words.
“Uadi al-Natrun (Arabic for “Valley of Natron”)
is a valley located in Behera Governorate, Eg ypt, which
includes a city with the same name.”
Was Grandpa in Egypt? But why did he talk
about some guards?
I went back to the search bar and wrote the
word “guards” after the name of the Egyptian
valley. The third result caught my attention.
“Thousands of prisoners escape from different pris-
ons in Eg ypt. - Jan. 30, 2011.”
I clicked on the link, and a newspaper ar-
ticle loaded.
“Thousands of prisoners have escaped in the last few
hours from different prisons in Eg ypt, taking advantage
of the fact that the prisons have been destroyed or that
the guards in charge of surveillance have abandoned their
posts. Some media in the country have warned that ar-
senals are at risk of disappearing.
“In the Wadi el Natrun prison, one of the largest in the
country, located on the desert road between Cairo and Alex-
andria, numerous prisoners have escaped, as confirmed by
General Ahmed Helmi to Egyptian state television. Helmi,
who was speaking from the prison, explained that it houses
more than 11,000 prisoners and has thousands of weapons,
but could not specify how many of the prisoners have escaped.”

40
 ALFRED MERCHEN

“Wadi el-Natrun is a prison!”

My grandpa was imprisoned in Egypt! Could
he have been one of the escapees?
I felt a void in my chest. This was more dan-
gerous than I thought. Or maybe I was exag-
gerating and it wasn’t that serious.
I started pacing back and forth, biting my
nails. There was an object the kidnapper want-
ed, but we didn’t know what it was. Grandpa
was not available, and we had about thirty-six
hours to find the object.
I took a deep breath and swallowed my fear.
I would feel it later, not now.
I peeked into Sofi’s room. She was still sleeping.
I entered Grandpa’s room and started look-
ing for the unknown object. How would I find
it if I didn’t even know what I was looking for?
There were many things scattered on the
floor from the robbery, so I started analyzing
each one of them. Then I looked at the shelves,
the books in the library, the nightstand, under
and over the bed. I felt like one of the CSI Mi-
ami agents but without any interesting findings.
If I were hiding a valuable object and I didn’t
have a safe, where would I hide it?
The most valuable thing I had was an origi-
nal edition of a Hulk comic, and I had it stored
in a sealed bag at the bottom of a drawer, un-
der my clothes.

41
 The 9 LIVES of

Maybe Grandpa would do the same. We

were family, after all.
I opened the closet and looked in the fi rst
drawer. Nothing. Empty.
Then the one in the middle. Also nothing.
Just old man’s socks and underwear.
I opened the third one, and there was some-
thing wrapped in a bag. I knew it! I took the
bag out of the drawer and put it on the bed. My
hands were sweaty from nerves.
I sat on the bed and examined the bag. Noth-
ing out of the ordinary, a simple supermarket
plastic bag. I opened the bag and took out the
only object inside: a kind of leather-bound book
wrapped with a cord tied in a knot. Between the
cord and the book was an envelope.
I looked all around, suspecting that someone
might be watching me, but I was alone. I slid the
envelope out of the book very carefully and put
it on my legs. I remembered the documentary I
had seen about anthrax envelopes in the United
States and hesitated to touch it again.
But I had to do it. There could be a clue in
there to save my parents. I opened the envelope.
It was a letter. Obviously. Test passed.
Now I had to read it. I hoped it wasn’t in
Hebrew.
The date of the letter was December 1, 2019–
last week.

42
 ALFRED MERCHEN

Dear Yaz,

This letter is to tell you in writing what I could never

tell you in person…

The reading was interrupted by the sound of

a car parking in front of the house. Then foot-
steps and voices that I couldn’t quite make out.
In a flash, I realized the rookie mistake I had
made. I didn’t close the front door when we got
home from the park.

43
 8
SOFÍA
“hello, is there anYone hoMe?” said the voice
in my dreams.
But apparently, I was no longer in the night-
mare where my parents had been kidnapped. I
was in my bed, waking up to a new day.
“Hello, hija?”
“Mom!” I jumped up and looked towards my
bedroom door. But it wasn’t my mom. “Grand-
ma?”
“Hello, dear,” said Grandma Margarita.
“Where is everyone?”
I didn’t know how to answer. The dream was
still weighing on me, and I didn’t know if the
note with the knife and Santi’s cell phone trans-
lation were real or if I dreamed it. Grandma was
watching me from the door in her violet sweater
and fashionable clothes. She looked as young as
my mom, always elegant and pretty.
“Tita!” Santi said in the hallway.
“Hello, my handsome Santi,” Grandma said
and turned to hug my brother, who was always
super nice to her because she brought him gifts.
“Tita, Tita, you have to help us.” Santi started

44
 ALFRED MERCHEN

babbling a mile a minute. “Sofi and I were at the

park and when we got back no one was home
and there was a mess in the kitchen and—”
“Yes, I see that, dear,” Grandma interrupt-
ed, always one to butt in. “It looks like someone
dropped a plate. But don’t worry, I’ll clean it up.”
Santi grabbed Grandma’s arm as she was
heading for the stairs.
“Wait, Tita, I haven’t fi nished telling you.
There was a note stabbed with a knife right in
the door of that room.”
Santi went to the door and pointed to the
knife hole. Sadness enveloped me again as if
someone had dumped a gallon of black paint on
me. Apparently, it wasn’t a bad dream.
“You can tell me the story later, dear. I just
got here. Better yet, come and help me with my
suitcase.”
Santi sighed and held his head in his hands as
he watched Grandma escape down the stairs. He
came over to me and whispered through gritted
teeth. “You tell her. Maybe she’ll listen to you.”
“And what do I say?”
“Just everything that happened!”
I wasn’t able to. I just stood there, panicking.
“Ugh!” Santi said and ran to the edge of the
stairs. “My parents have been kidnapped!”
He said it so loudly and with so much force
that Grandma almost fell down the stairs.

45
 The 9 LIVES of

“What nonsense are you talking about, San-

tiago? That’s not even worth discussing.”
“Yes, Tita. There was a note that said that,
a note for Grandpa Alfredo.”
“Don’t say silly things, Santi. Your grandpa
is in the hospital and he hasn’t talked to anyone
in Colombia for many years.”
“Grandma,” I said, finding my voice. “Who
brought you from the airport?”
“I came by taxi, dear. Your dad had an emer-
gency at the office and couldn’t pick me up.”
Santi and I looked at each other, confused.
“Did you talk to my dad?” Santi asked.
“When?”
“Your mom sent me a text after I landed and
told me that Sergio couldn’t pick me up because
he had to go to work.”
Santi stood still as if someone had thrown
paint on him too. Grandma disappeared on the
first floor while muttering something about the
twisted imagination of this generation.
We went down the stairs.
Grandma was sitting in the living room, typ-
ing something on her phone. A few seconds lat-
er, she stood up and handed her phone to Santi.
“I sent your mom a message,” Grandma
said, walking away. “Let me know what she
replies. I’m going to clean up that mess in the
kitchen.”

46
 ALFRED MERCHEN

Santi took the phone with both hands, and

I came over to look at it with him.
“Let’s look at the texts,” Santi said. “Here’s
a message from Mom at 11:15 that says, ‘Hello,
Mom. Sergio had an emergency at work and
can’t pick you up. Can you please take a taxi?
I’ll pay for it.’”
“It’s 12:21,” I said, reading the time on the
phone.
“It doesn’t make sense. The note was here
before ten.”
“Maybe it was a prank,” I said. “An April
Fool’s joke.”
“Our parents never play pranks. And it’s not
April Fool’s Day yet!”
“Maybe the note doesn’t say what we thought
it did,” I said. “I think your piece of junk phone
doesn’t know how to translate ebrio.”
“It’s not ebrio, dumb,” Santi said and stuck
out his tongue at me. “It’s HEBREW.”
Ding!
A message came in on Grandma’s phone. It
was a single word: “Yes.”
The previous message was from Grandma
to my mom, and it said: “Where are you? At the
hospital with your dad?”
I felt a thousand colors and jumped for joy.
“Grandma!” I shouted. “Mom says she is at
the hospital.”

47
 The 9 LIVES of

Grandma looked into the living room.

“Santi,” said Grandma. “Write to her saying
we’ll see her there in an hour. You two are com-
ing with me, but first I’ll give you some lunch.”

48
 9
SANTIAGO
Grandma was seemingly living in another
world. She acted like a teenager and had the at-
tention span of a small child. It was impossible
to recruit her to help us. We were alone again.
Sofi seemed to believe that everything was
fine and that we would see Mom at the hospital
soon. Although the text messages indicated this,
it was yet to be seen. I wasn’t so sure.
Grandma made us sit in the dining room
while she cooked. As far as I remembered, I had
never seen her cook before.
She tossed some vegetables in a pan and put
them on the stove with one hand while making
a call with the other. Then she started pacing
back and forth while talking.
“Hello, José?” said Grandma on the phone in
a fl irty voice. “It’s me again. I’m sure you’ll say
I’m being bothersome, but this morning when
we spoke you offered to help me if I needed... yes,
yes, thank you, you’re a sweetheart... well, look,
what happened is that I’m here at my daughter’s
with my grandchildren and I have to go to the
Medellín Clinic, but I’m scared to get in a taxi

49
 The 9 LIVES of

with the children... yes, alone from the airport

is one thing...”
A strong burning smell and white smoke
began to fi ll the kitchen. Sofi and I gestured to
Grandma to look at the pan, but she wasn’t pay-
ing attention. Sofi got off her chair and turned
off the stove. She came back coughing a little.
We both looked at each other as if to say,
“Let’s forget about lunch and see if there are
any snacks anywhere or we’ll starve for the rest
of the day.”
Grandma was still on the phone, unaware
that the vegetables were now fossilized coals.
“... if it’s not too much trouble, I’d appreci-
ate it.”
I opened the fridge while Grandma wasn’t
looking and pulled out a couple of Greek yogurts.
Sofi’s mission was to infiltrate the pantry and ex-
tract some lemon potato chips and Oreo cookies
without Grandma seeing us. We already knew
she would get angry if we didn’t eat healthy. But
the truth was that processed cookies with indus-
trial amounts of refined sugar were more appe-
tizing than her roasted vegetables.
“No, nothing serious, I’m fine and my grand-
children too. It’s my daughter who’s accompa-
nying her father who’s in surgery... I’ll tell you
what happened to him now... perfect, in about
thirty minutes.... Do you want to write down

50
 ALFRED MERCHEN

the address? ... the location? No, I don’t know.

Wait a minute.”
Grandma covered the phone with one hand
and looked for me. I barely had time to hide the
cookies under my shirt when she saw me next to
the pantry with Sofi.
“Santi, my love, do you know how to send a
location on this device?”
“Yes, Tita, of course,” I said, holding my
stomach in so that the bulge wouldn’t show.
“All set, José,” she said. “I’ll send it to you in
a moment... Thanks... See you soon.”
Grandma hung up the call and let out a sigh.
When she handed me the phone, her face was
radiating a giant smile.
“Life is beautiful, isn’t it, kids?”
She seemed to be in another world, because
without realizing it, she served the burned veg-
etables on two different-sized plates.
“Did you send him the location, Santi?”
“To whom?”
“To José, the gentleman I was talking to.
You can see the number there on the phone,
can’t you?”
I looked at the call history and found the
contact. It said: José PAPASITO. 2
I didn’t know Grandma had a boyfriend.

2. ‘Papasito’ is a slang word for ‘handsome’.

51
 The 9 LIVES of

I opened WhatsApp and sent the current lo-

cation to papasito.
“All set, Tita,” I said and handed her the
phone.
She took it and went to look at herself in the
hallway mirror.
“I have to get ready. Eat well and get ready
to leave in half an hour.”
As soon as she left, Sofi and I let out sighs
of relief.
“Let’s eat this quickly,” Sofi said, pointing to
my shirt. “Before she realizes.”
We opened the yogurts, the chips, and the
Oreos and ate them as quickly as possible. We
threw the lunch attempt in the trash and went
upstairs.
“I have to show you something I found,” I
whispered in Sofi’s ear.
She didn’t get a chance to answer me, because
Grandma appeared at the bottom of the stairs.
“Are you ready?” she said. “There’s no time
to waste. Hurry up then. Brush your teeth and
we’re leaving.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Sofi said and went to the
bathroom.
I stayed behind like a professional spy and
waited for Grandma to go downstairs. I went
to my room for a backpack and returned to the
drawer in the guest room for the package where

52
 ALFRED MERCHEN

Mom’s letter was. I put the bag in the backpack

and walked out just when Sofi came out of the
bathroom.
“What are you carrying?” Sofi asked with
an innocent child’s voice.
I smiled confidently and put on my Sherlock
Holmes voice.
“Elementary, my dear Sofi. The key to find-
ing our parents.”

53
 10
SOFÍA
GrandMa’s friend looKed Much Younger than
her, but older than my dad. He had an accent
that wasn’t local and a mysterious look. But my
brother was even more mysterious with the secret
he carried in his backpack.
All the way to the hospital, Grandma spent
her time speaking loudly and laughing like some-
one who wanted to laugh but didn’t really feel
like it. I’d never been able to do that. If I felt like
laughing, I laughed. If not, I didn’t’.
The adults were busy with their love story
and Santi was lost in space. I didn’t mind be-
ing ignored, because all I wanted was to see my
mom and know how Grandpa was doing.
I counted the seconds it took for each traffic
light to turn green and the streets we passed.
The GPS announced each turn in advance,
and unintentionally, I suffered inside, hoping
we wouldn’t get lost and would arrive as soon
as possible.
When we parked, I was the fi rst to get out
and wanted to run, but Grandma grabbed
my arm.

54
 ALFRED MERCHEN

“Never run in a parking lot, Sofi. A car could

run over you. Come on, Santi, my love, give me
your hand.”
José was very tall and walked straight next
to Grandma, looking forward and not noticing
us. I let myself be led because it wasn’t worth
struggling with Grandma. I already knew that
at some point she would let go.
“Tita?” said Santi.
“What’s up, my dear?”
“Can I walk next to Sofi?”
She had a look on her face as if saying, “What
are you two planning?” But she nodded and let
go of his hand. Santi moved to my side and ca-
sually leaned in to whisper in my ear.
“We need to find a safe place without Grand-
ma and her boyfriend to open the package.”
“Which pack—”
“Shh,” Santi interrupted me with a worried
look.
The package must have been what he had
in his backpack. I had already forgotten about
it because of the excitement of seeing my mom.
We went up some stairs and entered the hos-
pital together.
“Let’s go to information to ask where they
have Alfredo,” said Grandma, “and if they’ve
already taken him to surgery.”
“I know wh—”

55
 The 9 LIVES of

“Good idea, Margarita,” José interrupted

me. “I’ll handle it, please.”
José moved towards the information desk,
and at that moment Grandma let go of my
hand and went after him, saying something I
didn’t understand. But that was my chance. I
ran down the hallway to my right towards the
stairs. Grandpa had been on the third floor last
night. I didn’t want to risk waiting for the eleva-
tor and have Grandma stop me.
“Sofi, wait for me,” said Santi.
Let him follow me. I didn’t want to waste
any more time.
My brother was the eldest, but I was more ath-
letic. I left him in the dust. At first, I could hear his
steps behind me, but by the time I reached the sec-
ond floor, I couldn’t hear him anymore.
The room was 314. I remembered it well
because Mom had repeated it several times the
night before. She liked to think out loud and re-
peat things so she wouldn’t forget them.
I followed the signs on the wall and flew to
Grandpa’s room. My heart was about to burst out
of my chest. The door was closed, but I turned
the knob and pushed with all my weight.
“Mami, I’m here!”
The chair next to the bed, where I hoped to
see her, was empty. So was the bed. Why was
nobody there?

56
 ALFRED MERCHEN

Something moved to my left. In a corner of

the room was a strange man who was not dressed
as a nurse. He turned around, startled to see me.
In his hands, he had Grandpa’s pants.
“Who are you?” I said. “Do you know where
my mom and my grandpa are?”
The man quickly pulled something from
Grandpa’s pants and put it in his own pocket.
He walked towards me and smiled.
“Wait for them here,” he said, placing a hand
on my shoulder. “They’ll be back in a while.”
Without stopping, he walked past me, opened
the door, and left the room.
For a moment, I felt as confused as when I
looked at abstract art for too long. Grandpa’s
clothes were all messed up on a table. That
man could be a thief, and he just stole Grand-
pa’s wallet.
Something inside me triggered, perhaps in-
stinct, and all I could think was to chase the thief.
I pulled the heavy door with all my strength
and propelled myself out before it closed, but I
couldn’t take a single step, because I ran straight
into my clueless brother.

57
 11
SANTIAGO
MY sister’s head was sMall, but it hit as hard
as Thor’s hammer. I would’ve been knocked out
on the floor, but Sofi grabbed me by the shoul-
ders and shook me like crazy.
“Did you see him? Did you see him? Where
did he go?”
“Who?”
“The thief, the one who robbed Grandpa.
Didn’t you see him?”
“Calm down, Sofi. I think the hit hurt you.
The robbery was yesterday at home. How could
I see him here?”
“Dunce, I already know that. But there was a
man here when I arrived. I saw him. And I think
he took something that belongs to Grandpa.”
This mystery was getting more complicated.
“I didn’t see anyone,” I said.
We entered the room, and Sofi told me what
had happened a few minutes ago. I went over to
the table with Grandpa’s clothes and picked up the
pants that had fallen to the floor. They had noth-
ing in their pockets. “Perhaps it was the wallet,” I
said while opening a table drawer. “Or not.”

58
 ALFRED MERCHEN

In the drawer, there was a wallet and some

glasses. I passed the pants to Sofi and checked
the wallet. It had a driver’s license with Grand-
pa’s picture, but everything was in English.
“Look at this,” said Sofi, who had begun to
examine the pants. “It’s like a secret pocket on
the inside.”
She opened the Velcro and put her hand all
the way in.
“What would he use this pocket for?” said
Sofi. “It has nothing.”
I shrugged.
“Hmm.”
“Santi, I’m scared. Why isn’t anyone here?
Where’s Mom?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “But I found something
interesting. Grandpa wrote a letter to Mom, but
he had it hidden. We have to read it.”
“Really? And why don’t you just give it to
Mom right away?”
She either didn’t understand or didn’t want
to accept reality.
“Sofi, we don’t know where our parents are.
The idea is to find them, and the letter might
help.”
She fell silent.
I took the backpack off and took out the mys-
terious package. I surveyed the room to see if it was
safe. The door to the hallway had no way of locking.

59
 The 9 LIVES of

“I know,” I said as soon as I saw the bathroom

door. I grabbed Sofi by the arm and dragged her
to the hiding place.
“Let me go, Santi!”
“We need privacy.”
“I’m not going to the bathroom with you, no
way,” said Sofi.
“Aaaayyyy!” I screamed in pain and let go
of my sister’s arm. “Why did you bite me?”
Sofi stepped back about three meters, wait-
ing for my revenge, but there was no time to lose.
Grandma could arrive at any moment.
“Alright, if you don’t want to know what the
letter says, I’ll read it by myself.”
I went into the bathroom and locked the
door. Two seconds later, just as I imagined, Sofi
tried to open it.
“Sorry for biting you. Will you let me in?”
“What’s the magic word?”
I could feel her frustrated breathing on the
other side.
“Please, Santi, let me in,” she said.
I unlocked and opened the door.
“Quick!”
The bathroom wasn’t very big, but we both
fit comfortably. The shower had a seat in one
corner and a metal tube from one side to the
other. I had never seen such a thing.
“Sit over there,” I said, pointing to the shower.

60
 ALFRED MERCHEN

I sat on the toilet lid.

She obeyed without saying anything, and I
took the book out of the bag. Then I took out
the envelope and the letter. With a mix of emo-
tion and terror, I read it in a low and trembling
voice at the beginning.

Dear Yaz,
This letter is to tell you in writing what I could
never tell you in person. First of all, forgive me for hav-
ing been an absent father who missed most of your life so
far. My intention is not to make excuses but for you to
know me a little better.
In this journal, you will find the letters never sent
that I wrote to you during decades of adventures around
the world. This journal, along with the Oppenheimer
Watch, are my most precious material treasures. But the
greatest treasure, I realized many years later, is you, flesh
of my flesh and bone of my bones. That’s why I have re-
tired and have come to be close to you and your family,
hoping it’s not too late.
The journal reflects my moments of happiness and
sadness, victories and defeats... along with my emotions
and dissertations directed to you. I’ve rarely had someone
to tell the secrets of my soul, but I wrote them directed to
my only daughter, trusting that one day I could give them
to you. It is my gift to you, and I hope you appreciate it.

Dad

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 The 9 LIVES of

P.S. In the inner flap of the journal, there is a USB

for Santiago and Sofia that I ask you to give to them only
in case something happens to me and I can’t do it myself.
My intention is to earn their friendship and be able to
pass on the family heritage that comes from my grandfa-
ther and that has marked my destiny: the Oppenheimer
Watch. Many people have wanted to steal it, but it be-
longs to our family as the guardians of the watch and
should pass to my grandchildren.

I read the last part again, not believing what

it said. It was something out of science fiction.
This only happened in movies. Or books.
“Oh, my God,” I said.
I untied the string around the journal and
opened the leather cover very carefully, like a sa-
cred book that could fall apart if treated badly.
In the pocket of the flap, there was a very thin,
black USB.
After a while, I noticed that Sofi hadn’t said
anything.
I turned to look at her and saw that she was
reading the letter on her own. When had she
taken it from me?
“Here,” she said, holding out the letter to me.
“Keep it again and let’s go look for Mom and
Grandpa. You shouldn’t have taken that jour-
nal from where you found it. Don’t you see it’s
not for us?”

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 ALFRED MERCHEN

“Of course it is! Don’t you see he left us this

USB?”
“But only in case something happened to
him, and he’s fi ne,” she said, still holding the
letter.
“Well no. Look, they robbed him and beat
him. And we don’t know where Mom is. Don’t
play dumb.”
Sofi gave me a Smaug-like look, and when she
stood up, I thought she would spit fire. I closed
my eyes, waiting for her wrath, but all I felt was
her snatching the journal and leaving me alone
in the bathroom. Well, not so alone, since I was
left with the USB.

63
 12
SOFÍA
I left MY brother in the bathrooM and left
the room.
I’d had enough of all these mysteries. San-
tiago was taking everything as a game, but I
couldn’t keep up with this uncertainty.
I had to find answers. I had to find my mom.
I walked down the hall towards the eleva-
tors and then to the left where there was a nurs-
ing station.
“Excuse me, miss,” I said to the woman be-
hind the computer.
“Hello, how are you?”
“Do you know where the man who was in
room 314 is? He’s my grandfather.”
“I don’t know. What’s the patient’s name? I’ll
check in the system.”
“Alfredo.”
“Alfredo what? Oh, wait.” She turned to a
nurse who was passing by in the hallway. “An-
drea, come here for a moment, please.”
Andrea approached the nursing station with
an I-have-a-lot-to-do-and-no-time-for-anything-
so-don’t-bother-me look. But she smiled.

64
 ALFRED MERCHEN

“Where’s the man from 314? This is his

granddaughter, and she’s looking for him.”
“Don Alfredo was taken to surgery about an
hour ago. That’s going to take a while longer.”
“And the woman who was with him today?”
I said. “Do you know where she is?”
“No, no one came to visit him today. I was
taking care of Don Alfredo this morning and he
was alone the whole time.”
The nurse left, and I was left with the weight
of the world on my shoulders. Everything seemed
tiny, and I lost my breath as I remembered the
note pinned with a knife to the door.
But I quickly returned to reality as the el-
evator opened and my grandmother came out
with her friend. They were talking animatedly
and didn’t see me.
They walked towards 314, as the nurse said,
and I had an idea.
“Grandma! “I shouted, running towards her.
“Oh, sweetheart, there you are. You almost
scared me to death.”
“See, I told you,” said José. “They weren’t
lost. They’re fine.”
“And Santiago?” said my grandmother.
“In 314,” I said and extended my hand. “Can
I borrow your phone, please?”
“For what, sweetheart?”
“To call my mom. She’s not here.”

65
 The 9 LIVES of

“No, sweetheart. She texted me a while ago.

She’s running an errand at the bank.”
“Please, Grandma.” I made my sweet-little-
girl face. “I want to talk to her.”
Grandma ignored me and followed José, who
didn’t stop to wait for us. I noticed her purse
was open. I approached from behind and took
her phone.
I let them go into 314 and dialed my mom’s
number. The call didn’t go through. There was
no signal.
I walked down the hall until I found a win-
dow and dialed again. It rang twice and went
to voicemail.
Strange. Mom was not the type to not an-
swer, even if she were at the bank. More than
once she had been scolded for that.
I tried again, and this time it went straight
to voicemail as if it were turned off.
I had no doubt now. Something was off here.

66
 13
SANTIAGO
I had alreadY taKen out MY laPtoP and in-
serted the mysterious USB when I heard the
door open.
“Santi?”
Grandma.
“I’m in the bathroom, Tita.”
I put everything in the backpack and inhaled
deeply. I felt like a spy or like Ethan Hunt, from
Mission Impossible. I was sweating profusely.
“I’m coming, I’m coming.”
I flushed the toilet to mislead.
I had to find a safe place to watch the video.
I splashed water on my face and combed my
hair. Outside a phone rang, and I heard Grand-
ma’s boyfriend answer.
“Hello, yes, how are you doing?” said José.
I came out of the bathroom and sat in the
empty chair next to the bed, my legs shaking. I
had a very important secret to keep.
“Right now?” said José on the phone. “I un-
derstand, of course. See you soon.”
Grandma didn’t pay me any attention, fo-
cused on José’s conversation.

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 The 9 LIVES of

“I’m really sorry,” said José. “I have to go.

A business meeting.”
“Oh, no, how sad,” said Grandma.
“But I can come back later and pick you up.”
“Sure, that would be wonderful, José.”
“Well, see you later,” said José and hugged
Grandma.
I looked away, trying to make myself invis-
ible, and only heard the sound of the door when
it closed behind José. A few seconds later, the
door opened again.
“Hello, it’s me,” said Sofi.
She still had the book with her. Grandma had
gone into the bathroom, and Sofi only saw me.
“Where are the others?” Sofi put the book
on my lap. “You keep it.”
“Grandma’s in the bathroom,” I said and put
the book in the backpack. “José left.”
“And now what do we do?” said Sofi.
I nodded towards the outside. Sofi nodded.
“Tita,” I said. “We’re going to go to the caf-
eteria. We’ll be right back.”
“No, kids, wait,” said Grandma desperately,
with the sound of toilet paper unrolling. “I’m
coming out.”
Sofi and I ran down the hall and away from
the room like hobbits fleeing from an army of orcs.
We stopped at the bottom of the first-floor
stairs, watching the adults pass over us, engrossed

68
 ALFRED MERCHEN

in their thoughts. It was a great advantage that

they didn’t pay attention to us.
“Where’s the cafeteria?” said Sofi.
“I don’t know, but I’ve changed my mind.
We’re not going to the cafeteria.”
“Why not?”
“Because Grandma would find us there.”
“So what do we do?”
“Follow me.”
It was time to be the heroes and solve the
mystery of the USB and the whereabouts of our
parents. We left the hospital, and the heat and
noise of the cars left us stunned for a moment.
I didn’t know the area very well. I only knew
we were on El Poblado Avenue. Hundreds of
cars, mostly taxis, were stuck to each other on
the street.
“Let’s cross,” I said.
We made our way between the cars in both
directions and arrived at a very tall glass build-
ing.
“Let’s go to Starbucks,” said Sofi and ran to
the crowded store.
“But we don’t drink coffee!” I said, trying to
catch up with her. Mom always took us to Star-
bucks. It was her favorite place.
People were coming in and out with their
coffee cups and their frappuccinos.
We sat in a corner and took out my laptop.

69
 The 9 LIVES of

It was already on, so it started up immediately.

“We’ve been to this one before,” I said. “The
computer recognized the Wi-Fi.”
I took out my earbuds, gave the right one to
Sofi, and put in the left one.
“Let’s see what’s on this memory,” I said. She
smiled with a hint of sadness.
I inserted the memory and opened the fold-
er on the computer. There was only one execut-
able fi le.
“It’s a program.”
I double-clicked on it, and a black box ap-
peared with a message: “Connecting to the server…”
We waited for a whole minute in which we
barely breathed. The black box got bigger, full
screen, and a video appeared with controls. I
clicked on the Play triangle, but a new message
appeared in the middle of the screen: “Confirm
Identity” along with two buttons, “Accept” and
“Cancel.”
I clicked on “Accept.”
A robotic female voice spoke through the
headphones: “Say your full name out loud.”
Sofi grabbed my arm tightly. I took a deep
breath.
“Santiago Andrés Cárdenas Merchen.”
The application made a sound like a train
passing through a tunnel, and the robot spoke
again: “Identity confirmed. Hello, Santi.”

70
 ALFRED MERCHEN

“Oh!” said Sofi.

The video started immediately. The black
background was getting lighter, and a man in
a military uniform appeared. It was Grandpa.

71
 14
SANTIAGO
Behind grandPa was a large bricK wall and
a couple of lamps on yellow bases. He walked to-
wards the camera and smiled, showing his teeth.

“Hello, Santiago. Hello, Sofia.

“If you’re watching this video, it’s because something not

very good has happened and I’m not with you to tell you
the story of our family.

“What I’m going to tell you now, you’ve never heard,

because not even your mother knows about it. I have a
lot to tell you, but you’re likely in danger or need secret
information and there’s no time to dawdle.

“Where to begin? Well, first you should know about your

origins. The Merchen family comes from Poland. That’s
where my father, your great-grandfather, was born. But
I was born in Israel, just seven years after it was formed
as a nation in 1948.

“In fact, this uniform is from the Tzahal or the Israel

Defense Forces, where I served for five years. You’re not

72
 ALFRED MERCHEN

going to believe it, Santi, but I joined the army at your

age, at twelve. It wasn’t normal, of course, but those
were not normal times. When the Six-Day War began
in ‘67, many children were called to help in the Tzahal,
although not on the battlefront.

“At the age of twelve, I began training as a soldier along-

side my father, who was a war hero. He taught me how to
shoot, to fight man-to-man, and to survive in the desert.

“It was a very tough experience for me as a child, but I am

grateful for it. It prepared me for what would come next.

“Pay close attention, Santi and Sofi...

“This is for your ears only; let no one else know about it.”

Grandpa put his right hand into his trouser

pocket and pulled out something golden, but his
hand partially covered it.

“I want to show you a very special object. It’s a very old

pocket watch. We call it the Oppenheimer Watch, and
it is our family’s honor to be the guardians of the watch.

“This watch belonged to the great scientist Robert Op-

penheimer, director of the Manhattan Project and leader
of the group of scientists who created the atomic bomb in
1945. My paternal grandfather was part of that group.”

73
 The 9 LIVES of

“Yes, yes,” I said. “I saw a documentary

about—”
“Quiet!” said Sofi. “Let me listen to the video.”

“Surely they have already told you the story in school about
the bombs that the United States dropped on Hiroshima
and Nagasaki in Japan to end World War II. Those
bombs killed about 200,000 innocent people.

“Neither Oppenheimer nor my grandfather nor their

team expected that the American government would use
the bombs. They believed that such a powerful weapon
should only be used as a deterrent to scare enemies, never
to destroy. The scientists of the Manhattan Project felt
great remorse for having invented the nuclear bomb.

“That’s why Oppenheimer met with President Harry

Truman in October 1945, to convince him to support
his efforts to control the use of nuclear weapons in the
world. The meeting with the president who dropped the
bombs on Japan didn’t go well, and Oppenheimer was
thrown out of the White House.

“What Truman didn’t know was that Oppenheimer and

his team had created an arsenal of bombs up to one hun-
dred times more destructive than those of Hiroshima and
Nagasaki. But that arsenal was hidden in a safe place.
The coordinates of the place and the codes to activate the
bombs were recorded in this watch.”

74
 ALFRED MERCHEN

“Amazing, Sofi!”
“Uh-huh.”

“Oppenheimer was willing to give the watch to Truman,

but after talking to the president, Oppenheimer knew
that Truman would use them for evil and not for good.

“So when he left the White House, Oppenheimer gave

the watch to my grandfather and entrusted him to keep
it from falling into the wrong hands.

“Over the years, Oppenheimer’s watch passed to my fa-

ther and then to me. Many terrorist groups and even gov-
ernments tore it from my hands for a time, but I always
managed to recover it.

“Until a few months ago, all outside interest in the watch

seemed to have disappeared, and I was ready to retire and
pass the watch on to you, without any danger.

“But if you’re watching this video, it’s very likely that I

had to run away or that something serious happened to me.

“Don’t worry. I have a plan, and I trust in your ability,

my grandchildren, to carry it out. I wanted to make sure
that nobody hacked this USB and accessed the informa-
tion I’m going to give you. That’s why, to access the fol-
lowing videos, you need to find the passwords according
to the clues I’m going to give you.

75
 The 9 LIVES of

“The first clue is this: From the neck of the nine lives
warrior to the neck of the nine lives lion.”

76
 15
SOFÍA
Santi had his Mouth oPen, about to drool,
when the video ended. I think he felt like he was
floating.
“Wow,” he said. “Grandpa is worse than I
thought, but in a cool way. Like in a movie. Is
all that true? Because, because…”
“Well, of course,” I said. “Why would he lie
or make up all that?”
Now I knew my parents were really in dan-
ger, but I also knew that everything was going
to be okay, that Grandpa had a plan. Seeing
Grandpa in his military uniform scared away
all the fear I had felt since the morning and re-
placed it with a bravery I had never felt before.
“So it’s true...” said Santi. “We must decipher
the clue: From the neck of the nine lives war-
rior to the neck of the nine lives lion. What is a
nine-lives warrior? I’m going to do a search…”
My brother focused on the screen, and I was
distracted by the people coming in and out of
the cafe. A girl stood in line, looking at the menu
on the wall. Next to her was an adorable puppy
tied with a yellow collar. The dog couldn’t stay

77
 The 9 LIVES of

still and wanted to escape and explore every-

thing with its nose. It reminded me of my cat,
who was impossible to keep still.
My cat!
“What does the last part of the clue say?” I
said.
“The neck of the nine lives lion.”
“Chester. It’s Chester.”
“Chester is no lion.”
“It’s symbolic, Santi. Don’t you realize? In
ancient Egypt it was believed that cats had nine
lives.”
“It’s not nine, it’s seven lives.”
“It’s nine lives. We studied that in school with
teacher Cesar.”
“You’re wrong and I’m going to prove it.
You’ll see…”
I knew I was right, but Santi always wanted
to win the arguments.
“This is what Mister Google says: ‘For those of
us who are from Latin countries, the cat has seven lives.
But in Anglo culture and other parts of Europe, this lit-
tle animal has nine lives, while in Arabic cultures they
are attributed six lives. Of course cats only have one life
(lucky for dogs), whether they are from Mexico, Eng-
land or Syria.’”
“See, I was right,” I said.
“I was too,” said Santi and stuck out his
tongue. “Plus, we’re Latinos.”

78
 ALFRED MERCHEN

“But Grandpa isn’t!”

Santi frowned and looked back at the com-
puter, switching the window to Grandpa’s video.
“Grandpa was a soldier,” I said, “so…”
“A warrior! Of course,” said Santi. “Ches-
ter’s collar has a metal plaque like a soldier’s.”
“Yes, yes!” I said. I stood up from my chair
and jumped for joy.
Santi smiled broadly and began packing ev-
erything into his backpack.
“Let’s go see your cute little cat, Sofi.”
“And how?”
He took a twenty-thousand-peso bill out of
his pocket and opened an app on his phone.
“I’m going to order an Uber,” he said.
The only thing I had was Grandma’s phone,
and I put it in an external pocket of Santi’s back-
pack, because I had nowhere to keep it in my
dress.
“What are you doing?” said Santi.
“It’s Grandma’s phone. I took it out of her
purse to call my mom. But she doesn’t answer.”
Santi looked at the floor and didn’t say any-
thing. Then he looked at his phone.
“Ready,” he said. “It arrives in six minutes.”
We left Starbucks and were heading towards
the stairs to the street when a voice stopped us.
“Kids! Wait.”

79
 16
SANTIAGO
“whY are You alone? where’s M argarita?”
I couldn’t believe our bad luck. José came
from behind at a fast pace and stood between us.
“I was in an important meeting in an office
here,” he said, pointing to the glass building.
“What were you two doing?”
It was the first time I paid attention to Grand-
ma’s boyfriend. He had a foreign accent. He was
definitely not Colombian.
“We came to buy something for my grand-
mother,” said Sofi. “But they didn’t have it. We’re
on our way back now.”
“Hmm, well, actually,” I said, making a face
at Sofi to signal her not to go along with it. “We
need to get home. There are many things to do...
and the cat is alone.”
“Oh, yes,” said Sofi. “Chester doesn’t have
any food. Poor thing.”
“Don’t worry, children,” said José. “I will
take you home in a while, but let’s check on
Margarita and Alfredo. We need to make sure
they are okay.”
He put his hands on each of our backs and

80
 ALFRED MERCHEN

gently pushed us, guiding us back to the hospital.

I had to think of a way to slip away and go
home already. But Sofi seemed content with Jo-
sé’s promise to take us home.
My phone vibrated. It was a call from an
unknown number, probably the Uber driver. I
pressed the red button and put my phone away.
It was better not to have to explain anything to
anyone.
There was nothing to do. I had to pretend
everything was perfect. I picked up the pace so
he wouldn’t push me anymore, and we entered
the hospital straight to the elevator.
The door opened on the third floor, and a
hollow feeling formed in my stomach when I saw
Grandma at the nursing station with two nurses
and a security guard.
Grandma had tears all over her face and a
hand on her chest, like in a soap opera funeral.
“Margarita!” José said. “What’s going on?”
Grandma let out a little cry when she saw
us arrive.
“Oh, my God, kids, where have you been?
Were you with José?”
“No, I found them on the street in front.”
“How so?” she said. “Why?”
“They didn’t have what we wanted at the
cafeteria here,” said Sofi. “So we went across
the street.”

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 The 9 LIVES of

I looked at Sofi as if to tell her that we were go-

ing to get into more trouble than we already were
if she didn’t stop making up stories right now, and
that it was better if she stayed quiet and held onto
the scoldings that were coming anyway. Grand-
ma was not someone to be afraid of but rather soft,
though of course she could become nagging when
argued with too much. I didn’t know if Sofi under-
stood all that, but that was my intention.
“Thank God you’re okay. But don’t do this
to me again. I was very, very worried when I
didn’t find you at the cafeteria. And on top of
that, Alfredo’s situation.”
“What happened to Grandpa?” said Sofi.
“Was there something wrong with the sur-
gery?” asked José.
Grandma looked at the nurses, who were still
talking to the security guard and now a police
officer. I had no idea when he arrived.
“We don’t know where Alfredo is,” said
Grandma, trying to hold back her tears. “He
disappeared.”
“What?!” I said.
“How is that possible?” said José.
“Grandpa too?” said Sofi.
“They say that after surgery he was moved
to a recovery room and the nurse left him sleep-
ing on the stretcher, but when she returned, he
was gone and so was the stretcher.”

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 ALFRED MERCHEN

“That can’t be!” said José, and he headed to-

wards the police officer and the guard.
“What are we going to do, Grandma?” said
Sofi, hugging her and sobbing.
“I don’t know, sweetheart. I don’t know.”
That was why I had a hollow feeling in my
stomach. My super spy instincts were on high
alert, and I suspected something rotten in all
of this.
I checked the time on my phone: 3:10 p.m.
Time was passing quickly. Shoot. We had until
midnight tomorrow to deliver an object in ex-
change for my parents. I suspected that this ob-
ject was the “open door watch” or whatever it
was called. Grandpa said that many people want-
ed to steal it. Maybe they had already stolen it.
José came back and snapped me out of my
thoughts.
“I convinced them to show us the security
video,” he said. “Maybe we can discover some-
thing.”
Grandma looked at José with a “you’re my
Superman” expression and wiped away her tears.
We went in the elevator to the first floor and
followed the guard down several hallways until
we reached a small room where a security guard
was watching two monitors.
“Yepes,” said the guard we were with to the
one sitting in the small room. “We need to show

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 The 9 LIVES of

these gentlemen”—he pointed to the police of-

ficer and José—”the recording of the last hour
from the recovery room on the fifth floor.”
The guard at the desk looked at us suspi-
ciously, especially Sofi and me, but he shrugged
and nodded.
I had seen many security cameras in movies,
but what they had here was quite rudimentary
compared to those. The guard found the files on
his PC after several minutes of clicking through
multiple sublevels of folders.
We watched the nurse push the stretcher
into the recovery room (a small area with slid-
ing curtains), adjust the little bag of water they
always give patients, and then leave. A few min-
utes later a man entered, checked on Grandpa,
and, without wasting time, stood behind the
stretcher to push it out.
“Stop there,” said José.
The frame stopped, and the man’s face was
clearly visible on the screen. Sofi took two steps
forward and craned her neck to get a closer look.
“Ah,” Sofi let out a small choked scream that
apparently only I heard.
The adults started arguing among them-
selves.
“What happened?” I whispered to Sofi.
“It’s the guy I saw in the room,” said Sofi.
“The thief.”

84
 17
SOFÍA
Seeing the thief, this tiMe stealing grand-
Pa, sent chills down my spine and made my legs
feel like jelly.
What if he kidnapped me?
Santi pulled me into the corridor. The adults
couldn’t hear us. They kept watching security
camera recordings to see where the thief had
escaped.
“I’ve been thinking about everything we
know so far,” Santi said in a low voice. “And
there’s something that doesn’t add up. I fi rst
thought the thief took the watch. But why did
he take Grandpa if he already has the watch?”
I shrugged. I had no idea.
I looked back and saw Grandma step into the
hallway. She was pacing back and forth, looking
at the floor and moving her fingers very quickly.
“We need more information,” Santi said.
“We have to go to the house.”
José came into the hallway and took Grand-
ma by the shoulders. Santi and I shut up and
paid attention.
“How are you, Margarita?”

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 The 9 LIVES of

Grandma shook her head several times, and

her hands were trembling.
“I need a cigarette,” she said. “Do you have
one?”
“No, sorry.”
“I’m going to buy one,” said Grandma, and
she walked down the hall toward the exit, clutch-
ing the red purse slung over her shoulder.
José watched her until she was out of sight
and then came over to us.
“How are you kids? Confused, I guess.”
We didn’t answer, but he kept talking.
“The man who took Alfredo escaped with
him in an ambulance. The police have been
informed and they are looking for him. Do you
know who this man is? Have you seen him be-
fore?”
José looked at me intently as if he knew more
than he was saying.
Santi looked pale and sweaty.
“Yes, I saw him earlier here at the hospital,”
I said. “But I don’t know who he is.”
“Where did you see him, Sofia?” José said.
“Any detail is important.”
I didn’t know if I could trust him, if it was
safe to tell him the truth. He seemed like a good
person and had been very good to Grandma
and us so far.
Santi looked tense and nervous.

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 ALFRED MERCHEN

This was too much for us to handle alone, and

we needed the help of an adult. We already knew
Grandma wouldn’t be of any help. Maybe José
could. I had to tell him everything, even about
Grandpa’s video. So the police would know what
the thief was looking for.
“Well, the truth is…”
“The truth is what she already said, Sofi,”
Santi said. “She simply saw him at the hospital,
but nothing more.”
José furrowed his brow. He didn’t seem con-
vinced. He crouched in front of me, and his face
was level with mine.
“I know you don’t know me,” José said in a
soft voice, taking my left hand. “But I just want
to help. You can trust me. I care a lot for Mar-
garita and therefore for her family too. You and
your grandpa. But to help you, I need you to
trust me.”
It felt good to have someone who cared about
me. I missed my mom so much, and maybe José
could help us find her.
“Do you have something to tell me, Sofia?”

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 18
SANTIAGO
I couldn’t believe what was haPPening before
MY eYes. A horror movie, witchcraft, hypnosis. This
man was convincing my innocent sister to trust
him, a stranger we had barely met that morning.
All kids know that adults can’t be trusted. They
always promise things they don’t deliver. But Sofi
hadn’t been betrayed yet and was about to spill our
secrets to this José.
“Sofi!” I said, grabbing the hand that José had
taken and almost dragging her by force. “Let’s go
find Grandma. You know she worries if she doesn’t
see us.”
I didn’t even look at José. I knew Sofi hated be-
ing grabbed this way, but I had no choice. After
getting some distance, I let go before she bit me.
“You can’t tell him anything,” I said through
clenched teeth. “Walk fast.”
“But, Santi...”
“Not here, outside.”
We quickly followed the path Grandma had
taken a few minutes before, crossing a couple of
identical corridors and following the signs that said
EXIT, until we reached the main entrance of the

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 ALFRED MERCHEN

hospital. Right behind us came José. Apparently,

we weren’t fast enough to lose him. Next time I had
to find a vehicle, like in The Fast and the Furious.
José walked past us and left the hospital. We
stopped and looked through the glass doors. A few
meters outside, Grandma had a cigarette between
her fingers, puffing smoke out of her mouth. José
stood in front of her and said something. She nod-
ded a couple of times. José said something else, she
nodded again, and he left.
“What’s going on?” Sofi said.
“I don’t know.”
“I have to go to the bathroom.”
Sofi left, and I stayed in the middle of the re-
ception looking at Grandma on the other side of
the door. She rummaged in her purse and pulled
out a phone that she looked at with confusion. She
put it away and started looking for something else.
The phone was very familiar to me because it had
the same panda-bear case that my mom’s had.
Did the two of them use the same phone cover?
Impossible. I had already used Grandma’s phone
that morning. In fact…
I took my backpack off my back and checked
the side pockets. There it was. All of this was very
suspicious.
I activated the phone, which had no password,
and checked the call log. There were a couple of
calls made to Mom.

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 The 9 LIVES of

Could it be possible that...? But how?

There was only one way to find out. I dialed
Mom’s number and held the phone to my ear, my
gaze fixed on Grandma, who was throwing the
butt of her cigarette onto the street.
I waited a few seconds and nothing. I looked
at the screen: Calling…
I put it back to my ear. Nothing for three, four
seconds. Then I heard the ringing sound. Once,
twice, and Grandma didn’t flinch. I began to relax.
But then Grandma opened her purse and pulled
out the cell phone with the panda-bear case.
In my ear, the phone kept ringing.
Grandma looked at the cell phone screen in
her hands but did nothing with it.
I only heard the ringing in my ear, and I wasn’t
sure if the cell phone in Grandma’s hands was ac-
tually ringing or not. Everything could be a coin-
cidence.
It rang three more times, and I was sure it would
go to voicemail when Grandma pressed her screen
and put the phone to her face.
“Hello,” said Grandma in my ear.

90
 19
SOFÍA
I dried MY hands and returned to MY broth-
er. His face looked like a Colombian version of
Munch’s The Scream.
“Did you see a ghost or what?” I said.
“Grandma has Mom’s phone.”
“What? And how would she have it if...?”
Santi showed me Grandma’s phone in his
right hand.
“I just dialed Mom’s number, and Grandma
answered.”
“I don’t believe you. I called today and no-
body answered.”
“I’m not lying to you, Sofi. I saw her and
heard her.”
I knew by his expression he was telling the
truth. Besides, Santi was a terrible liar. That was
my gift, and he didn’t like lying.
The world became abstract to me, and a
headache attacked me out of nowhere.
“What does that mean, Santi? I’m confused.”
“It means I’m right that we can’t trust any
adult.”
“Oh, you’ve been going on about that since

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 The 9 LIVES of

Grandpa Ricardo promised to take you to Dis-

ney and then canceled.”
“I don’t care about Disney. It was Universal
Studios.”
“Get over it already.”
“Sofi, react. All day Grandma has been telling
us that she had talked to Mom, that she had sent
her messages, but it turns out she had both phones.”
“So, what are we going to do?”
“We have to run away.”
“Are you crazy?”
“We have to leave now!”
A very tall presence stood in front of us.
“We’re leaving now,” José said.
“Aaahhh!” Santi’s scream was so loud that
I think all the anesthetized patients in the hos-
pital woke up at that moment. “Don’t surprise
me like that. You always scare me.”
“I’m sorry, Santiago. I didn’t mean to. I have
the car outside, and I can’t leave it parked there
for long. Let’s go.”
José extended his hand to me, and without
thinking, more out of instinct, I took it. I walked
with him towards the door, and Santi opened his
eyes again like the figure in The Scream. I smiled
at him, apologizing. There was no way to run
without them noticing now.
We crossed the glass doors, and José opened
the back door of the car for me and waited for

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 ALFRED MERCHEN

me to get in. Grandma was at the front, very

quiet, looking at her purse.
Santi still didn’t come out of the hospital.
“Where’s your brother?” said José. “I thought
he was behind us.”
“He’s kind of slow,” I said. “He should be
coming.”
“Okay,” José replied from the driver’s seat
and then turned to Grandma. “What’s wrong,
Margarita? You’re like in another world, very
distracted.”
“Oh, what?” said Grandma as if she had been
awakened from a deep sleep. “What was it?”
“You’re very distracted, Grandma.”
“Confused,” she said. “I can’t find my phone.
Do you know where I left it, sweetheart?”
“You always keep it in your purse,” I said.
“Isn’t it there?”
“No, I already looked.”
“Maybe you left it at the house?”
“Yes, probably. I’m very forgetful.”
“It’s because you’re stressed about what’s
happening,” José said. “But everything will be
resolved. You’ll see. I was in the army years
ago and have contacts, people who can help us,
very good people. Better than the police. I have
the license plate number of the ambulance. My
friends are sure to find it easily and sooner than
the police. It’s safe. Don’t worry.”

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 The 9 LIVES of

“God willing,” said Grandma.

“Could something have happened to Santi-
ago?” José said, getting out of the car.
A police officer approached José and be-
gan speaking to him, telling him he needed
to move right away. José tried to convince
him to give him a few minutes, but the officer
didn’t want to.
A weird fear gripped my neck as I thought
about my brother. I unlocked the door, got out
of the car, and went into the hospital. In the re-
ception, there were the usual people, some sit-
ting in a waiting room, others walking towards
the elevators and others at their workstations.
But Santi was nowhere to be found.
Knowing him well, I knew he hadn’t gone
to the bathroom or to get something to eat. He
had escaped.
A security guard approached me.
“Hello, little girl.”
I looked at him with surprise.
“Yes?”
“Are you Sofia?”
“Yes.”
“A boy named Santiago left this for you.”
The guard gave me Grandma’s phone and a
folded paper. I took it and thanked him.
What could all this be?
I looked around and didn’t see José or my

94
 ALFRED MERCHEN

grandmother. I opened the paper. It was a mes-

sage from Santi:
“Don’t tell anyone anything. Look for the next clue
and call me when you have it. See you soon.”

95
 20
SANTIAGO
I escaPed through a side eXit of the hosPital
and found myself in the midst of a sea of people
and cars. To the left, the street went uphill to-
wards the mountain, and just looking at the slope
tired me out. Besides, I wouldn’t have anywhere
to go, as it was just buildings and houses. To the
right were El Poblado Avenue and the treacher-
ous Grandma.
I crossed the street and, amongst the peo-
ple, arrived at the avenue, looking back to see if
anyone was following me. I ran away from the
hospital, dodging street vendors and trees. I ran
out of breath in front of some white towers with
blue glass. It was like a shopping mall, but still
too close to the hospital. I knew that the Santa Fe
Shopping Center should be nearby. So I walked
quickly, without looking back.
After a few blocks, I felt more at ease. They
wouldn’t follow me that far.
I just hoped that Sofi had received my message.
I imagined a bunch of scenarios in which
Grandma had reasons to lie to us about Mom’s
whereabouts:

96
 ALFRED MERCHEN

Aliens abducted her and brainwashed her and

now she was stealing people for intergalactic ex-
periments. Or she was working for the guerrillas
and wanted to ransom them. Or maybe she was
a Venezuelan spy with intentions to overthrow
the Colombian government. Or perhaps she
suffered from amnesia and swapped phones with
my mom and didn’t remember. Or she was part
of a religious sect that recruited family members
with deceit and then locked them up in a ware-
house dressed in old robes.
The scenario I liked the most was the one
with the aliens.
Before I knew it, I was in front of Santa Fe,
my favorite place in Medellín. I entered and
took an elevator to the fourth floor. In the food
court, I looked for a table in a secluded corner
and sat down.
I stared at my phone for about five minutes,
with the false hope that Sofi would call me with
the cat clue. But when I imagined her in the hos-
pital reading my note, I realized that in my ea-
gerness to escape, I hadn’t taken into account
a small detail. Upon discovering that I wasn’t
there, they weren’t just going to say “Oh, well,
the twelve-year-old boy is lost, and who knows
where he is, but let’s go home and hope he calls
or shows up on his own.”
Obviously not. Grandma was going to faint,

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 The 9 LIVES of

Sofi was going to be interrogated, José was going

to check the security cameras, and the entire hos-
pital was going to look for me. Poor Sofi wasn’t
going to be able to get home for a long time.
So what was I going to do? I couldn’t see the
next video without the code. Maybe if I took
an Uber to the house, I would get there before
them... but I didn’t have keys, and once there,
they would easily find me and I would fall into
Grandma’s clutches.
I unlocked my phone and scrolled through
the different screens, looking at the icons of the
apps over and over again. I could call a class-
mate who lived in El Poblado and ask to stay
with him. Maybe Samuel. But no, he also lived
in Laureles like us. Maybe Simón. No, no idea
where Simón lived. Surely Antonia lived in El
Poblado, but she was a girl and I was embar-
rassed to call a girl.
I locked the screen again and dropped the
cell phone on the table. I opened my backpack to
take out my laptop and waste time on YouTube,
but the first thing I saw was Grandpa’s diary. I
didn’t remember until now that I had saved it.
If I didn’t have a video, at least I had this.
I put it on the table and opened it slowly. I
fl ipped through a couple of pages until I came
to where the handwriting began. The first entry
said: “St. Petersburg, February 5, 1992.”

98
 ALFRED MERCHEN

Where would that be? In Mexico?

That was what Mr. Google was for. I pressed
the center button and said: “St. Petersburg.”
In three seconds, a female voice told me that
it was a Russian city located at the mouth of the
Neva River in the Gulf of Finland. Okay, enough
information.
I turned several pages, and they all said St.
Petersburg but with different dates. Well, Grand-
pa lived in Russia in the ‘90s. I randomly opened
the book in the middle and read the entry: “New
Mexico, USA, June 27, 2000.”
I really didn’t feel like reading everything it
said. It was something personal for Mom, but
it was interesting to see where Grandpa had
been. Apparently, he had spent a few years in
the United States. But after 2002, I started to see
different places one after the other: Afghanistan,
Iraq, Saudi Arabia, Lebanon, Israel, Washing-
ton, Egypt…
Something caught my attention when I saw
Egypt written on the page. “April 8, 2007, Cairo,
Eg ypt. Wadi el-Natrun.”
Wadi el-Natrun! I had read that name before.
I searched on my phone for the screenshot
with the translation of the kidnapping note, and
there was the reference to the guards of Wadi
el-Natrun. I had to read that.

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 The 9 LIVES of

Dear Yaz,

My last letter was three weeks ago, but these have been three
dog weeks. I entered Egypt in mid-March to investigate a
news story about the Muslim Brotherhood, but the immigra-
tion authorities treated me very badly, ignored my credentials
as a journalist, and interrogated me cruelly. When they found
out that I was Israeli, they accused me of being a spy and
locked me up in jail. Without a trial, without even the op-
portunity to call the newspaper in Washington. I spent many
days in isolation and interrogations whose details I don’t
even want to remember, and I’m not going to describe them
here. Suffice it to say that the worst is over and now I’m in
a prison called Wadi el-Natrun with thousands of inmates.

It’s a depressing and dirty place, but I’ve learned to focus

on the good. I’m alive, I have a pencil and paper to write
to you, and I even made a friend. Yes, a friend, imagine.
He’s a young Israeli man who also served in the IDF and
was captured in combat. His name is Youssef. He’s been
in Wadi el-Natrun for a few years now and is guiding me
regarding the factions and borders within the prison. He’s
like a very useful guide in this hostile place. Maybe I can
teach him one or two things that life has taught me. In the
few days we’ve known each other, I’ve grown to love him like
a son. In fact, I told him about you and that I wrote to you
often. He was the one who got me what I needed to write.

My phone vibrated. Finally. It was Sofi.

100
 21
SOFÍA
“sofi! do You have the code?” MY brother
said.
“No,” I said angrily. “You left me alone.”
“I’m sorry, Sofi, but I didn’t know what else
to do. Where are you?”
“At the hospital. Everything became chaos
when you didn’t appear. Grandma fainted. José
looked for you everywhere and had the hospital’s
people looking for you.”
“And did they fi nd out that I left you the
phone and the note?”
“No. I threw the note in the trash. I was lucky
that José didn’t ask the guard anything about
the phone. But someone else told him that they
saw you leaving the hospital.”
“I figured they would find out somehow. But
I’ve already made up an alibi. I can tell them
that I saw the man who kidnapped Grandpa and
I got scared and ran away from him.”
“You’re going to lie?”
There was silence for a few seconds.
“Where are you?” I said.
“At Santa Fe, in the food court.”

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 The 9 LIVES of

“At Santa Fe? What are you doing there?

And what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet. I was
hoping to go step by step. And the next step was
to decipher the code.”
“I don’t think we’ll get out of here quickly.
They’re looking for you everywhere, and very
soon the guard at the door is going to say that
you left something with him and they’re going
to know that I’m your accomplice.”
“Hmm…”
“Go home and look for the clue. I can hold
them here for a couple more hours.”
“How am I going to get in if I don’t have keys?”
“Through the guest room window. That’s
how the thieves got in. There has to be a way.”
“You’re right, you’re right. Well done, little
sister. And here I thought you didn’t have the
soul of a spy. You’re learning.”
“So are you going to do it?”
“Yes, I’m going to order an Uber and head
home. You make up something to give me a cou-
ple more hours. Call me if there’s any problem.
And let me know by text when you’re on your
way home so I can escape.”
“Done.”
“Done. Thanks, Sofi. We make a good team.”
I hung up the call, and guilt embraced me
strongly.

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 ALFRED MERCHEN

“Well done, Sofia,” said José, who had been

by my side listening to the whole conversation
on speakerphone. “You did the right thing. It’s
time to go home.”
José stood up and walked towards the exit.
I remained seated in the waiting room, sadness
overcoming me. When I had started the call, I
was convinced that I was doing the right thing,
protecting my brother from doing crazy things.
But after listening to him, I felt like I was be-
traying him.
I lied to Santi. The truth was that the first
person José talked to was the guard who gave
me the phone, and without hesitation, he told
him what happened.
I wanted to trust José. Now that Grandpa was
not here, I needed someone to lean on. Someone
to take care of me.
That was why I told everything to José. Ab-
solutely everything.

103
 22
SANTIAGO
The uber was alreadY ParKed in front of the
mall when I requested it, so I ran like Usain Bolt
down the four-story staircase. I had to hurry and
gain as much time as I could.
It was a black Chevrolet Spark. I climbed
into the passenger seat, and the driver gave me
a weird look, perhaps trying to decide if I was a
dwarf or an adult who didn’t look his age.
“Don Santiago?” the driver asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Are you traveling alone?”
“If you’re asking if adults are coming with
me, no. I’m going home. And I’m in a big hur-
ry, please.”
The guy made a don’t-know-what-to-do face,
like he was going to leave me behind, but I played
dumb and took out a twenty-thousand bill from
my pocket, as if I were looking for something
else, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw his
expression improve.
“What’s the fastest way to Laureles?” I said.
“By the regional road. And we can get
out from here. We would never get there

104
 ALFRED MERCHEN

by El Poblado Avenue. You’re lucky you were

parked on this side.”
“Perfect.”
The hospital was on El Poblado Avenue,
which meant they were going to take a long time.
I fastened my seatbelt, lowered the window, and
started humming the song on the radio. I didn’t
know the lyrics, but I felt energized and confi-
dent that as a team with Sofi, we would solve the
case of the stolen watch and rescue our parents
and grandfather.
I managed to hum about five or six songs by
the time we got to the house. I paid and got out
of the car. On the highway, I imagined I was in a
Ferrari, but seeing the Spark from outside brought
me back to reality. Now I had to climb up to the
second floor somehow, and I had no idea how.
There was a narrow corridor between our
house and the neighbors’, but they were smooth
walls with nothing to grab onto. I checked my
mental IMDB for what I’d seen in movies about
climbing walls and thought about Assassins
Creed. They climbed them parkour style.
I put the backpack on the ground, my back
against one wall and one foot against the other.
I had to stretch my foot to touch the neighbor’s
wall with the tip of my shoe. Why did I have
to be so short? This would be possible if I were
about ten centimeters taller.

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 The 9 LIVES of

I tried to lift myself off the ground, but my

foot immediately slipped. I tried three more
times but couldn’t get up at all, and I was al-
ready sweating.
“Aaagh!”
How frustrating! I had already lost fi fteen
minutes. At this rate, I was going to waste all
the lead I gained in the Uber.
I went to the door and moved the lock. It
didn’t open, of course. The first-floor window
was half open, but it had a grate and there was
no way in. I walked around the house a couple
of times, with the absurd hope of finding a secret
portal or a miraculous entrance. But nothing.
I went back to the front and stuck my face
through the grate. My head didn’t fit all the way,
but I managed to get through up to just before
my ears.
“Chester! Come here, kitty.”
Obviously nothing. Sofi never trained the
cat even to eat.
“Chester, hi! I need you, please.”
I yelled for about three minutes, and suddenly
I saw his furry paws appear on the stairs. Then
he stood in the hallway in all his glory.
“Chester, come here. Come!”
He looked at me for half a second and turned
his tail, heading to the kitchen.
“Aaagh!”

106
 ALFRED MERCHEN

I sat on the sidewalk, wanting to cry.

Grandpa should have given us a dog instead.
Cats were such...
At that moment I remembered that Chester
had sat on Grandpa’s lap when we were watch-
ing TV. As if he were attracted to him. I took
out my laptop and USB and looked for the first
video of Grandpa. I turned up the volume and
approached the window again.
“Chester, listen to your master.”
Grandpa Alfredo’s voice echoed in the living
room, and in a couple of seconds, Chester ap-
peared in the hallway. He came closer little by
little and curiously climbed up to the window.
I know the saying goes that curiosity killed the
cat, but this time it saved me. I held the comput-
er with one hand, and with the other I grabbed
Chester, who was about to put his paws on the
screen.
“Gotcha!”
The sound of a car made me jump. It was an
unknown car passing down the street. However,
at the corner, I could see José’s blue car turning
in my direction. I put Chester under one arm,
the laptop under the other, and dragged the
backpack with my feet to the hallway where my
parkour run was frustrated.
“Meow...”
“Quiet, Chester! Don’t make any noise.”

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 The 9 LIVES of

I peeked out, holding my breath and cover-

ing Chester’s mouth.
José parked the car half a block from the
house, not in front. Very strange.
Grandma and José got out of the car, but So-
fia didn’t. When they were almost at the front
door, I walked back a few steps and waited.
A thousand thoughts crossed my mind. Why
didn’t Sofi call me to let me know they were on
their way? And why did they only arrive twenty
minutes after me? Could she not stop them? Did
they give up so quickly on finding me?
I heard the sound of keys and the front door
opening.
“Santi, honey, are you here?”
Then her voice became more distant, hard
to hear. She must have been inside by now. I
peeked out carefully again and saw Sofi walk-
ing towards the house at a snail’s pace, looking
at the dirty sidewalk.
I took a step forward so she could see me, but
at that moment José came out and I hid again.
“Sofia, what’s going on?” said José. “Let’s go
inside, your brother hasn’t arrived yet and we
don’t want him to see us here. It’s a surprise.”
A surprise? What did he mean by all that?
I peeked out again. José was guiding Sofia
towards the entrance. She looked like a zombie
who didn’t speak. Too weird.

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 ALFRED MERCHEN

“Don’t feel bad for lying to your brother,”

said José. “All this is for the good of the family.”
What do you mean Sofi lied to me?
I remembered the moment at the hospital
when Sofi was about to tell José the truth and I
had to intervene. Then I remembered her little
voice telling me to trust the adults. Anger fi lled
my chest, and I clenched my fists. Chester let out
a cry and tried to get away.
“I’m sorry, Chester,” I whispered and com-
forted him. “I’m really sorry.”
I put my computer on the ground and held
Chester to examine his collar. The military tag
hung from the collar with a leather cover around
it. On one side it said CHESTER and on the
other was a raised number: 0605101967.
That must be the code. I ripped the tag off
the collar and put it in my pocket.
“Thank you, Chester. You’ve been a very
good kitty. Can you believe both Grandma and
my sister are traitors? Don’t trust them, do you
understand?”
I let go of the cat and packed my things in the
backpack. I went around the back of the neigh-
bors’ house and walked away from my home.
Perhaps forever.

109
 23
SOFÍA
I arrived and sat down on the living rooM
sofa. I didn’t even feel like going up to my room.
And even though José was very dear to me, I felt
terrible for having lied to Santi.
On the way back, I couldn’t stop thinking
about him and how angry he would be when he
found out what I did.
“Here, you have a nice juice, Sofia,” said José,
placing a glass on the coffee table.
“Thanks,” I said through clenched teeth,
without lifting my gaze from my hands.
I felt Grandma’s presence nearby.
“Why hasn’t Santi arrived? You told me you
spoke to him after the scare the thief gave him.
And that he was coming here. Did something
happen to him?”
“He’s almost here,” said José. “It must be the
terrible Medellín traffic.”
José was as good a liar as me. At the hospital,
he told Grandma the alibi that Santi had made
up and said that the guard had found his phone.
He didn’t mention anything about the note or
his plan to get Santi back home. I appreciated

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 ALFRED MERCHEN

that, because it would have gotten me in trouble

with Grandma. The bad thing was that I had to
hand over the phone and I no longer had a way
to call my brother.
Grandma sounded worried and went to the
kitchen for an herbal tea. José accompanied her,
and I was left alone. Something strange then hap-
pened. Chester came into the house through the
window that overlooked the street. I had never
seen him do that.
“Hello, Chester. What were you doing out-
side?”
The cat sat on the other sofa and not where
I was. Sometimes he was a bit elusive, but I still
loved him a lot. There was something strange
about him.
“What’s different about you, Chester?”
I got up from my place and went to sit next
to him. I was supposed to check his collar but
didn’t even feel like doing that.
“Let’s look anyway, kitty,” I said, placing
Chester on my lap. “Oh! Where is the little thing
from your collar? Did you lose it? Or could it be
that…?”
I felt scared and happy at the same time.
Santi had already been here. Or maybe he still
was. I ran upstairs and searched every room and
hideout I knew about. I looked in the guest room
and saw that the window was securely closed.

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 The 9 LIVES of

Of course, after the robbery, that window was

sealed from the inside. So he couldn’t have en-
tered through there.
But it was obvious that he had come to the
house, because he took the little thing from Ches-
ter’s collar. That was exactly what he came for.
I went down the stairs and looked at the collar
again. If I hadn’t known that it previously had the
little metal thing attached, I wouldn’t know it ex-
isted. He ripped it off so well that he left no trace.
“Sofia.”
José’s voice made me jump in fright. I was
starting to look like my brother.
José was a very tall man with a broad back,
with a thick black beard, dressed in a suit and
tie. But standing there next to the sofa, he looked
more like a movie actor than a businessman with
a grandmother for a girlfriend. He sat next to
me and stroked Chester.
“Well, did you look for the code that you told
me your cat had?”
“The truth is I don’t see anything. Look,
the collar is a string around his neck and that’s
it. Maybe we interpreted it wrong and what my
grandfather said means something else.”
I swallowed and kept looking at Chester so
as not to reveal that I was hiding something. I
knew that if I looked him in the eyes, José would
realize that I wasn’t telling him the truth.

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 ALFRED MERCHEN

“May I see?” said José, placing his hands on

Chester.
I nodded, and José picked him up.
“Meow!”
Chester complained and tried to escape, but
José held him tight and pulled him towards him.
Chester began to squirm and scratch José’s pants
in a way I had never seen. But José wasn’t scared,
and after a few seconds he let go and Chester
disappeared up the stairs.
When I turned my gaze back to José, I saw
that he had the collar in his hands.
“Oops! How did you take it off ?” I said.
“I’m a magician,” said José with a smile.
I looked at him with an “I don’t understand
what you mean” face.
“I’m agile with my hands, that’s why I say
I’m a magician. I can do tricks and move my
fingers very fast.”
“Wow. Amazing.”
I really liked this José.
He brought the collar closer to his face and
examined it on both sides, turning it over to not
miss anything.
“How sad...” said José.
“Why sad?”
“Because your brother was already here and
you didn’t want to tell me.”

113
 24
SANTIAGO
I arrived at the ParK, KicKing stones. i sat
on a bench, feeling hot and in the mood to break
something.
An old woman approached and placed a little
plastic box full of chewing gum in front of me.
“No, thank you,” I said.
“Anything you can spare to help me out, kid.”
I shook my head and looked away. But she
didn’t leave.
“A spare coin, sweetheart.”
She was as tenacious as Captain America
when he fought: she could do that all day.
“Alright,” I said.
I gave her a couple of hundred coins and took
a green box with two square gums. The woman
was already offering her boxes on the other side
of the park when I looked up. What a talent.
I put both gums in my mouth and chewed
hard, unleashing my frustration with my fam-
ily. But then sadness gripped me, thinking about
my dad and mom. I had tried not to think about
them all afternoon, but now that night was start-
ing to fall, I missed them terribly.

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 ALFRED MERCHEN

I had to find somewhere to go. My stomach

was already howling with hunger, like a wolf in
a cave. The only thing that occurred to me was
to go to Samuel’s place, my school friend, who
lived on Nutibara Avenue.
I walked in that direction at a fast pace, not
wanting to still be on the street at night.
It took me about twenty minutes to reach the
building where Samuel lived. I pressed the but-
ton for apartment 301 and waited.
“Can I help you?” came a woman’s voice
from the speaker.
“Uh, hi. Is Samuel in? I’m Santiago, a friend
of his.”
“Yes, Santi, come on in.”
The door buzzed, and I pushed it open. When
I reached the third floor, Samuel was at the door
with his usual glasses and disheveled hair.
“What’s up?” he said when he saw me.
We hadn’t seen each other since we went on
vacation. I shrugged and faked a smile.
“All good?” I said.
“Good, how about you?”
“Ah, fine… um, I brought something to
show you.”
“A video game?”
“Something like that.”
“Alright, come on in.”
I followed him through the apartment, and

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 The 9 LIVES of

the glorious smell of food in the kitchen activat-

ed my gastric juices.
“Dinner will be ready soon,” said Samuel’s
mom. “Santiago, have you eaten yet?”
“No, ma’am,” I said.
“Oh, no problem, where three eat, four can
eat, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Let’s play in the meantime,” Samuel said
to his mom.
We entered his room. He had a library full of
books, comics, and encyclopedias. Samuel loved
to read as much as I loved watching movies.
“What game did you bring?”
“It’s not a game, it’s something real.”
“What do you mean?”
I told him the events of the last two days,
and he only interrupted me seven hundred
times. But I fi nished the story just before we
were called for dinner. Samuel wanted to keep
talking, but I told him I wouldn’t say anything
else until I ate something. My stomach had
gone on strike.
Samuel ate quickly and said nothing. I could
see his mind plotting things. I felt life come back
to me after tasting the shredded chicken arepa
and guacamole they served us. Delicious.
Even though I hadn’t finished, Samuel stood
up and motioned for us to go to his room. I tried

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 ALFRED MERCHEN

to ignore him to finish my arepa, but he stood

by my side.
“Come on, let’s go.”
“Let him eat, Samu,” his mom said.
I stuffed the last piece in my mouth.
“Thank you,” I said with my mouth full.
We walked briskly, and Samuel closed the
door as soon as we entered. He straightened his
glasses and looked at me seriously. I sat on his
bed.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said. “This is like
a mystery novel. We have to write all the clues
we have on a board.”
Indeed, Samuel had a board in his room; I
didn’t know why. He took a black marker and
made a very detailed list of the keys we had. It
was an amazing thing.
“How did you remember all that?” I said.
“I have a photographic memory.”
“Wow. Must be very useful.
“Yep.”
“So you’re going to help me?”
“Of course! This adventure is amazing. Al-
though I am scared about your parents.”
“What do you think about what I found out
about my grandmother and my sister?”
“I don’t know. Your grandmother’s situation
is strange. Your little sister is a child and is eas-
ily persuaded. Don’t be hard on her.”

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 The 9 LIVES of

“And what about José?”

“Well, he must be very much in love with
your grandmother to get involved in all of this.
Because any regular guy would have dumped
her after so much trouble.”
That was a good point. José did show a lot
of interest in helping, and not everyone would
do that.
“I don’t know,” I said. “He’d have to do some-
thing very spectacular to earn my trust.”
We were quiet for a minute. Samuel broke
the silence.
“So what do we do now?
“Let’s watch the second video,” I said, stand-
ing up and reaching for my backpack.

118
 25
SANTIAGO
GrandPa was still in his MilitarY uniforM,
but now he was sitting in front of a table or desk
with one of those spinning globes.

“Congratulations, team. You found the first clue.

0605101967 is a date: June 5th to 10th, 1967, when
the Six-Day War was fought between Israel and the Arab
countries, Eg ypt, Syria, and Jordan.”

He said this while pointing to the countries

on the world map.

“I don’t know if you’re interested in world history, but

someday I would like to sit down with you and tell you
many things that I have seen happening in the world over
several decades.

“For now, I will only briefl y tell you that at that time,
in the late sixties, the Eg yptian president wanted to in-
vade Israel. Firstly, because the Arabs thought that Is-
rael should not exist as a nation, and secondly, because
the Russians gave them false information that Israel was
preparing an attack against Jordan and Eg ypt.

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 The 9 LIVES of

“But something happened that the Egyptians did not ex-

pect. When the Egyptian army was preparing to attack,
the Israeli air force surprised them and, in three hours,
wiped out ninety percent of the Eg yptian planes before
they had taken off. Syria and Jordan attacked Israel, but
we defeated both of them.

“The war lasted only six days and was a great victory
for Israel and a humiliation for the Arabs.”

Grandpa let go of the globe and leaned to-

ward the camera. It was as if he were there live,
talking to me face to face.

“I was twelve years old, but my childhood evaporated

with the gunfire of rifles and war tanks. I had to become
a man overnight.

“My father was a member of an elite army group that

had special missions for the defense of Israel. He was one
of the creators of training camps for teenagers that pre-
pared young people physically and mentally for years of
compulsory military service and to be on the battlefield.

“Although the boys in the camps were over sixteen years

old, I participated with them every year in physical train-
ing and weapons handling. By the age of thirteen, I knew
how to fire an AK-47.”

120
 ALFRED MERCHEN

“Cool!” said Samuel. “I want to learn to fire

one of those.”
“Me too!” I said.

“Having grown up as a Jew during the Second World

War, my father was obsessed, like many in our country,
with the security of Israel.

“You probably don’t know this, because it’s not something

they teach in schools in Colombia, but Israel today is a
paradise for technolog y startups. But just as Israelis are
good at creating technological developments, we are very
stubborn to resolve political conflicts, especially when it
comes to the conflict with the Palestinians.”

He moved away from the camera and took

the round map again. He looked for the location
of Israel and put his left index finger on the map.

“From 1948 to now, there has been an endless dispute

over some pieces of land between Israelis and Palestinians.

“The Israelis are afraid of the Palestinians, as many of

them have been raised to hate and destroy Israel. While
the Palestinians feel humiliated by Israel, because of land
disputes where they live and violation of their rights as
citizens.

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 The 9 LIVES of

“The Palestinians want to have their own country, in-

dependent from Israel, but that has not been achieved in
these fi fty years.

“With our fear of the Palestinians and our obsession with

security, all our proposals to accept a Palestinian state
include the presence of Israeli soldiers in Palestine, that
the Palestinians do not have weapons or an army, and
that there are military checkpoints throughout the territory.

“This, of course, is unacceptable to them, as they see it

as a humiliation.

“All of this becomes more complicated when you fac-

tor in the religious beliefs of each side and the political
interests of other countries in that conflict, such as the
United States.

“You’re probably wondering why I’m telling you all of

this and boring you with history and politics.”

I nodded, but Samuel didn’t.

“I’m not bored,” he said as if my grandfa-
ther was there.

“I do this because it’s a life lesson that I want to leave

you as guardians of the family treasure.

122
 ALFRED MERCHEN

“The Oppenheimer Watch, like all watches, marks the

time. But unlike all other watches, it carries the key to
accessing weapons of mass destruction.

“Many people seek the watch to find and use these weap-
ons to destroy those they consider their enemies. But our
family has guarded the watch to prevent that destruction.

“When I learned this from my father, I asked him an

obvious question that you may be asking yourselves right
now. Wouldn’t it be easier to destroy the watch once and
for all and thus end the danger?

“Oh, but the watch is much more than a guide to a nu-

clear arsenal,” he told me. “The watch itself is the key
to a technolog y with an incredible potential to transform
the world.”

Extraterrestrial technology, I thought to my-

self. Or something highly advanced in medicine.

“My grandfather thought about destroying the watch a

few years after receiving it, but he discovered a secret that
changed his mind.

“And the teaching is this: We can use our time to fight

or destroy those who think differently than us. Or we can
use it to create something new and wonderful that brings
life and prosperity.

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 The 9 LIVES of

“If you want to know the secret that your great-great-

grandfather discovered, you must find the clues in the
following videos.

“The next clue is: Pattern 23 of the Germanic crypto-

gram decipher game.”

124
 26
SOFÍA
How did he Know that santi had been in the
house? And what was I going to do now?
“You feel guilty,” José said. “I understand.”
He stared into my eyes, and I couldn’t hold
his gaze.
“Don’t worry, Sofía. I don’t expect us to be best
friends right away. We barely know each other. I
just want you to know that my intention is to help
you. Nothing more. Do you understand?”
I nodded, but I felt sorry for him. I think I
blushed.
“Look at the cat’s collar,” he said, handing me
the ribbon and standing up.
“How did you know that...?”
“That Santiago beat us and arrived first?”
“Yeah.”
“You saw something on the cat’s collar that
made you think he was here?”
“Well, yes, something is missing from the col-
lar. A little thing that was attached to it.”
“Very well. That’s called...” He paused, trying
to remember the word. “Intu...”
“Intuition?”

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 The 9 LIVES of

“That’s right. Look closely at the collar. It has a

scratch and a bent metal ring, as if something was
torn off. I had never seen the cat before. I didn’t
know if what was torn off was from today or from
a long time ago. But you confirmed it.”
I didn’t know why he was telling me all of this,
and it scared me a little.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
“Um, I think so.”
“Margarita is preparing something, don’t worry.”
Oh no. Grandma’s cooking stinks.
“I miss my mommy,” I whispered.
“Everything is going to be alright, Sofía,” José
said.
He sat down next to me again.
“How do you know? Intuition?”
José smiled, and at that moment, Grandma ar-
rived with a wooden spoon in her left hand and a
ringing phone in her right.
“Dear José, it’s for you,” she said.
“Thank you, Margarita,” José said, taking the
phone. He looked at the caller ID, and his face lit
up. “It’s my friend from the army!”
He pressed a few buttons and spoke without
putting the phone to his ear.
“Hello, Luis,” José said. “Do you have good
news for me?”
“José, glad I caught you, I have news,” a deep
voice on the speakerphone said, speaking very

126
 ALFRED MERCHEN

quickly. “We located the stolen ambulance in front

of a warehouse in the Colombia neighborhood. My
men and I have the perimeter surrounded, and we
have everything under observation. I’m going to
send you the location so you can come and receive
the relative if they’re there.”
“Of course, of course.”
“Oh, my God,” Grandma said.
“You know this is not an official operation,”
the voice on the phone said. “It’s a favor for you.
So if we rescue someone, you have to take them.
We can’t take responsibility for anything. But we’ll
be waiting.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant. We’ll be there.”
The call ended.
“Thank God,” Grandma said, covering her
face with her hands.
“You see, Sofía,” José said. “I told you every-
thing would be fine. Let’s go, quickly.”
“Shall we go?” Grandma said, her voice trem-
bling. “Won’t it be dangerous?”
“I’ll go,” I said, standing up.
“No, that’s scary. How could you suggest that,
dear? What if they start shooting?”
José extended his hand and smiled at me.
“Shall we go see your grandfather?”
My heart swelled with excitement.
“Yes!”
“But, but, but...”

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 The 9 LIVES of

“Don’t worry, Margarita. I’ll take care of her.”

I took José’s hand, and together we walked to-
wards the street.
“Sofía, don’t you dare,” Grandma shouted be-
hind me.
But I didn’t turn to look at her. I simply went
with José.

128
 27
SANTIAGO
“Pattern 23?” saMuel said.
“Germanic cryptogram decipher?” I said.
“That rings a bell.”
The bedroom door opened a little, and Sam-
uel’s mom’s head appeared.
“Hello, kids. It’s getting late. Santi, are your
parents picking you up?”
“Um... no, ma’am. My parents aren’t here.
My grandma came to take care of us, but she
doesn’t have a car.”
She fully opened the door and entered.
“Well then, I’ll drive you, because I don’t
want you walking alone at night.”
“Mommy,” Samuel said, “Can Santi stay
overnight? Pretty please!”
I looked at Samuel as if to say, “What a great
idea, now you’re truly my best friend, and I’ll
never forget it because the last thing I want to
do is go to my house.”
“Well, if they give permission, there’s no
problem.”
“Yes, they give permission,” Samuel said.
“Right, Santi?”

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 The 9 LIVES of

I blushed. I couldn’t lie.

“I think so. Like I said, my parents aren’t
here, and Grandma is really cool.”
That was a half-truth. God forgive me. I
would make a terrible spy.
“Well, call and ask her,” she said and left.
“I didn’t bring anything,” I said.
“Don’t worry, I’ll lend you something,” Sam-
uel said, sitting down in a chair in front of his
computer. “Now, the important thing is to un-
derstand the new clue.”
“Where do we start?”
“By searching on the internet.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Let’s see,” Samuel said, typing on the keyboard.
“Germanic cryptogram decipher. And enter.”
I sat next to him, at the foot of the bed.
“Only results about cryptography,” Samuel
said, disappointed.
“You see, I told you it wasn’t that easy. What
does ‘Germanic’ mean?”
“Well, I imagine it has to do with Germany.”
“German cryptograms... What if you search
for that?”
Samuel typed ‘German cryptograms’ into
Google and hit enter.
The first result was a title that said, “Secret
Codes in World War I.”
“Click on the first one,” I said.

130
 ALFRED MERCHEN

It was an article from 2015. Samuel began

to read:
“‘On January 1st, the very first day of this new year
2015, the movie The Imitation Game was released, about
the life of mathematician Alan Turing, who managed to
break the code of the intricate Enigma machine used by
the Germans during World War II to encrypt messages.’”
“Of course, I watched that movie,” I said.
“Well, it would be strange if you hadn’t
watched it,” Samuel said. “What movie haven’t
you watched?”
“Turing is the decipherer of German cryp-
tograms. It was thanks to him that the Nazis
were defeated.”
“Awesome!”
Samuel raised his hand, and we high-fived.
We remained silent for a while, happy about the
discovery.
“So, what now?” Samuel finally said. “Do
we have to find this Mr. Turing? He’s probably
already dead.”
“My grandfather is supposed to have left us
clues that only we could find. The name Tur-
ing sounds familiar to me, but not just because
of the movie.”
“Don’t you have another cat or dog named
Turing?”
“Haha,” I said with a smirk. “That’s not
funny.”

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 The 9 LIVES of

“It was just a question,” Samuel said.

He went back to the computer, and I lay back
on the bed, looking at the ceiling but not really
seeing anything.
“Turing, Turing,” I said. “Why does that
sound familiar?”
I thought about the movie, but I knew there
was something more. I sat up again.
“What are you doing, Samu?”
“Finishing a game.”
“A game...”
In a mental flash, I saw the box of a board
game: a mechanical computer with plastic chips
and marbles for solving puzzles.
“My grandfather gave me a board game a
few years ago,” I said.
“Uh-huh.”
“I can’t remember the exact name, but it had
two words, and one of them was Turing.”
“What?”
“Yes, yes, now I remember. It had a book
with lots of puzzles or patterns to form.”
“Does it have a pattern 23?” Samuel said,
sounding excited.
I started to get excited too. Grandpa was
good. He must have planned all this many years
ago to hide the clues in his Christmas gifts.
“I’m sure it does. It had so many patterns to
solve. They were like programming exercises.

132
 ALFRED MERCHEN

That’s why I started getting interested in com-

puters and coding.”
“Super, super! We found the clue!”
Samuel and I were already on our feet, al-
most jumping and dancing with joy.
“Yes! We’re the best!” I said.
“Yay!” Samuel shouted.
His mom peeked through the door again.
“Easy, kids,” she said. “Why all the yelling?”
“Sorry, Mommy,” Samuel said.
When she left, we burst into laughter un-
til we ran out of breath. Lying on the bed, we
calmed down.
“So, where is that game?” Samuel said.
“I don’t know. My mom must have put it
somewhere. She doesn’t throw anything away.”
“And what do we do now?”
“We have to find my parents.”

133
 28
SOFÍA
JosÉ sat Me beside hiM in the front seat. My
parents would never have let me sit there. It felt
nice, but I was also scared of doing something my
parents forbade.
It was nighttime, and the cit y lights
painted colors inside the car as José drove
at full speed.
I had never met someone as brave. I don’t
think even Grandpa was. Although I don’t know
if José was ever a ninja.
“How are you, Sofía?”
“Fine.”
The Waze app kept giving José directions
nonstop. I ignored the GPS and imagined see-
ing Grandpa again after all the scares we had
been through.
We arrived at a rough neighborhood, with
workshops and factories where nobody lived.
The streets were empty, except for a few home-
less people wandering around.
The Waze led us through a couple of small
streets away from the main avenue until we
reached a dead-end street.

134
 ALFRED MERCHEN

José parked the car to the side and dialed a

number on his phone.
“I’m here, Lieutenant,” José said.
“Understood,” said the same voice I’d heard
before. Even though he had the phone to his ear,
I could hear him clearly. “We decided to enter
when we didn’t detect any movement. I’m com-
ing out to meet you.”
A few seconds later, a man appeared through
an open door on the other side of the street and
signaled for us to come.
“It’s better if you wait here,” José said. “If it’s
safe, I’ll come for you. I don’t know what might
happen inside.”
“Okay, sure.”
A cold wind sneaked through the door as José
got out of the car. He crossed the street without
looking back until he met the man at the en-
trance of the building. They went inside, and I
couldn’t see them anymore.
There were no lights on the street, and ev-
erything felt eerie, like gothic art, so I closed my
eyes and tried to imagine a sunny and colorful
park where I could run and... no, it didn’t work.
I got out of the car, aware of everything
around me, and ran towards the warehouse. I
approached from the side in case there was some-
one at the front door who might see me.
I couldn’t hear anything. It must be safe.

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I peeked inside. Amidst the shadows, I could

make out a set of stairs.
Should I go up or not? What if I go back to
the car?
I remembered everything we had done over
the weekend and the bravery that Grandpa in-
spired in me. I had to do it for him, for him to
see me when we rescued him. I felt strong again.
Step by step, I climbed the stairs. At the top,
there was a door and a very dim yellow light,
like those small bulbs they use for decoration in
restaurants.
I crossed the door to the second floor and
found myself in a massive, empty place, fi lled
with dust and construction tools in one corner.
There was no one there.
If I were like Santi, I would be imagining
strange things, like being in an unknown di-
mension or something. But that was silly. José
had to be somewhere. They should have already
found Grandpa.
Suddenly, I saw something I hadn’t noticed
before. In a corner where the light didn’t reach
well, there were very narrow wooden stairs lead-
ing to a wooden platform that stretched from
one corner to another of the warehouse, like a
mezzanine.
I headed there, about to go up, when I heard
footsteps on the wooden floor and someone de-

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 ALFRED MERCHEN

scending the stairs. I held my breath for a mo-

ment, not knowing what to expect.
“Sofía.” I heard José’s voice in the darkness
of the stairs. “I have a surprise for you.”
José came down to where I was, then spoke
towards the mezzanine.
“You can come down, it’s safe. The bandits
are gone, scared off by the soldiers.”
I fi xed my eyes on the darkness, my heart
pounding. Two silhouettes, one behind the oth-
er, started descending slowly.
“Mommy! Daddy!”

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 29
SANTIAGO
The vibration of MY Phone interruPted the
discussion we were having about who would win
in a fight between Optimus Prime and Spider-
Man.
I said Optimus, but Samuel insisted that
Spider-Man had the advantage because he was
smaller and more agile.
“Aren’t you going to answer?” said Samuel.
The phone was charging on the nightstand,
and we were sitting on the floor. I didn’t want to
make the effort to talk to the traitors.
“Nooo,” I said. “What’s the point? Let’s keep
playing. So, who would win in a fight between
Batman and a Ninja Turtle?
The phone stopped vibrating.
“Which of the Ninja Turtles?”
It started vibrating again. Samuel got up.
“Just ignore the phone,” I said. “Umm...
Leonardo.”
Samuel looked up and to the left, thinking.
“I think Batman,” said Samuel.
The phone kept vibrating angrily.
“Yeah, me too. Your turn.”

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 ALFRED MERCHEN

The vibration stopped and started again

three seconds later.
“Just turn it off if you’re not going to answer,”
said Samuel, walking towards the nightstand. He
picked up the phone and looked at the screen.
“Sergio Cárdenas.”
“My dad?”
I jumped up and snatched the phone from
him. Yes, it was a call from my dad’s cellphone.
Was it him or was it the kidnapper?
My dad’s name disappeared from the screen,
replaced by a notification of three missed calls.
Would he call me back? I waited for five sec-
onds, nothing. I called back. Busy.
“Ugh!”
It vibrated. I pressed the green button.
“Hello.”
“Santi, my God. Where are you?”
“Dad?”
“Yes, it’s me.”
I had an overwhelming desire to cry out of
happiness, but when I saw Samuel looking dumb-
founded in front of me, I held back.
“Where are you?” my dad said.
“Umm... I’m...” I couldn’t fi nd the words
I wanted; my mind was short-circuiting. “I’m
with... a friend.”
“Your mom and I are at home. It’s been the
worst day of our lives. You have no idea.”

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“The longest and strangest day for me.”

“Yes...”
Dad laughed tiredly, almost without strength.
His voice sounded hoarse as if he had shouted a
lot and lost it. Trillions of thoughts raced through
my mind. How was it possible that they were al-
ready free and he was calling me? What about
the kidnapping note and Grandpa’s watch and
the videos and the bad man in the hospital and
Chester’s collar and the prison in Egypt? Was
everything already over? I had so many ques-
tions, but only one came out.
“What happened to you guys?”
“Why don’t you come home, and we’ll tell
everyone together? Your mom is taking a show-
er, and we ordered some food for delivery. Your
grandma has no idea how to cook. She had some
toast that was as hard as rocks when we got here.”
“Yeah, she cooks horribly.”
“Maybe that’s why Alfredo left her, I don’t
know.”
“And Grandpa, Dad? Is he with you?”
There was silence on the line, and I thought
the anticipation was going to give me a heart
attack.
“No, Santi. We have no idea where Grandpa
is.”

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 30
SOFÍA
I saw santi arriving froM the balconY. h e
got out of his friend’s mom’s car and ran like
crazy towards the house. I would have done
the same.
For the past two hours, I had been glued to
my mom, but when I found out Santi was com-
ing, fear and embarrassment fi lled me, and I
went to the balcony with Chester. But I knew I
had to face him.
Maybe he didn’t even know I had betrayed
him and would be happy to see me.
That thought encouraged me, and I went
down to the living room where everyone was.
José was saying goodbye.
“Well, now the whole family is together, and
that makes me happy,” José said. “I’ll leave you
to rest.”
“Thank you so much, José,” my dad said, giv-
ing him a hug. “It was a pleasure to meet you.
I don’t know what would have happened if you
hadn’t found us.”
“The pleasure is mine,” José replied. “I’m
honored.”

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“Yes, José,” my mom said. “Thank you,

thank you, thank you.”
Abuelita couldn’t stop smiling, although she
looked very nervous, moving from one side to
another. Suddenly, she took something from her
purse and went out to the street.
“See you soon, Santiago,” José said to my
brother, who looked at him like a strange crea-
ture and didn’t let him touch his head when José
tried to pat it.
I stood next to him, but Santi didn’t turn to
look at me.
“Hello, Santi,” I said.
He didn’t respond. So, I went and sat next
to my mom, who hugged me tightly against her
chest.
Outside, I heard José saying something to
Abuelita.
“Thank you, dear José,” Abuelita said loudly.
“See you tomorrow.”
Santi sat with dad on one of the armchairs,
and a little while later, Abuelita came in, smell-
ing like cigarettes. She closed the door and stood
three steps away from the living room.
“Sit down, Mom,” my mom said, and she
obeyed.
Dad looked at all of us with a big smile.
“How happy I am that we’re together,” he
said. “Seriously, I’ve always taken for granted

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 ALFRED MERCHEN

that we’re a family, but after today’s scare, I truly

value you all more.”
“Daddy,” Santi said, “this morning we came
back from the park, and you weren’t there, and
there was a note...”
“Yes, it was horrible what happened,” my
mom said.
“Somebody rang the doorbell,” my dad said,
“and I opened it thinking it was you, but two
hooded men forced their way in, armed and ev-
erything. They pushed me to the kitchen, and...”
“When I saw them, I dropped the plates I
had in my hands.”
“And one of them threatened us and had us
kneeling on the floor while the other went up-
stairs. I don’t know why. I imagined they came
to rob us or something, as someone had broken
in yesterday and had hit Alfredo.”
“And you didn’t call the police yesterday to
have them watch the house?” Abuelita said.
“Yes, Mom,” my mom said. “They came
from the police station, took the report, and left.
You know that unless you’re a politician or some-
one important, they won’t protect you.”
“Oh, no, how scary,” Abuelita said. “So,
what’s to stop them from coming back?”
We were stunned thinking about that. No-
body said anything until Santi spoke.
“And then what happened, Dad?”

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“Ah, yes. They kept us there for a while until

the guy who had gone upstairs came back and
stood there looking at us, as if thinking about
what to do. I thought they were going to kill us
right then and there.”
“No, my love, heaven forbid,” my mom said.
“What would have happened to the kids?”
“I told them to take whatever they wanted
but not to harm us. But the guy didn’t even talk
to us. He said something in the ear of the one
who was watching us, and that one told us to
stand up and walk.”
“They put us in a van outside with tinted
windows, thank God, and covered our heads.
It was horrible because your dad was seated on
one side, and I was on the other, with the armed
guy in the middle.”
“Oh, terrible, my dear.”
I couldn’t say anything. I imagined every
detail of what they were recounting and fi lled
with anguish.
“And what happened next?” Santi said. “You
have to finish telling your side of the story so that
we can tell ours later.”
“To be honest, I’m exhausted,” my mom
said. “The stress drained all my energy. I want
to go to bed now.”
“Yes, me too,” my dad said. “I’ll finish tell-
ing you, and if you want, you can tell us tomor-

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 ALFRED MERCHEN

row, Santi. José and Margarita already told us

what happened with Alfredo at the hospital.”
My brother made a bored face and nodded.
My dad continued the story.
“We didn’t know where they were taking us
at that moment, only that they tied our hands
and made us climb some stairs after getting out
of the van.”
“We spent the whole day in a dark, dirty
place with blindfolds,” my mom said. “My God,
I thought we were going to die or stay there for-
ever. You hear so many horrible kidnapping sto-
ries, but you never think it will happen to you.”
“I screamed for help several times,” my dad
said, “but the guy watching us would come and
threaten me to make me shut up.”
“And how did you escape?” Santi said.
“We didn’t escape,” my dad said. “José res-
cued us. Didn’t you know that?”
“José rescued you?”
“Well, not him,” my dad said. “Some friends
of his in the army. Lieutenant Jaramillo or some-
thing like that, he said.”
“I only know,” my mom said, “that at some
point, after many hours, we heard some shouts
and gunshots. And I think the guy who was
watching us went to see what was happening.
Or he ran away, I don’t know.”
“Yes, we were left alone for a while with-

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 The 9 LIVES of

out hearing anything, and I estimate that after

twenty or thirty minutes, two men arrived, call-
ing for Alfredo.”
“They found us,” my mom said. “One of
them was José. They asked us who we were, and
then he told us he was a friend of yours, Mom.
That he came to rescue us. And then we saw
Sofi, and here we are.”
“José brought us home,” my dad said. “He
was truly a Godsend.”
I finally dared to speak.
“I almost died of happiness when I saw you.”
“Aww,” my mom said, hugging me even
tighter.
“Supposedly, we were going to rescue Grand-
pa,” I said, “but we found you instead.”
“And how did José find you?” Santi said.
“His army friend tracked the stolen ambu-
lance to the hospital, dear,” Abuelita said. “That’s
why we thought they were going to find Alfredo.”
“So, the ones who kidnapped us,” my dad
said, “also kidnapped Alfredo. But the strange
thing is that he wasn’t there.”
“And the ambulance?” Santi said.
“Well, I don’t know, to be honest,” my dad
said.
“We didn’t see it when we left. Isn’t that
right, love?”
Mom shook her head.

146
 ALFRED MERCHEN

“We’ll ask José tomorrow,” my dad said.

“They probably returned it to the hospital.”
“I’m worried about my dad,” my mom said.
“And do you know what they wanted?”
Abuelita said. “Why did they kidnap you if you
don’t owe anything to anyone? Or do you?”
“No, nothing,” my dad said. “Only to the
banks, and they don’t kidnap.”
Santi opened his mouth as if to say something,
but then he looked at Abuelita and changed his
mind. He didn’t trust her and probably wouldn’t
say anything while she was present.
Santi looked at me, and I knew he was try-
ing to communicate with his eyes (he’s weird that
way). Obviously, I didn’t know everything he was
imagining he was telling me, but something was
clear: he didn’t want me to reveal what we knew.
On any other occasion, it wouldn’t have mat-
tered to me, but I had already betrayed him once
and had to earn his trust again. That was why
I didn’t say anything.

147
 31
SANTIAGO
Even though i tossed and turned in bed almost
all night, unable to sleep, I was already awake at
six in the morning, staring at the ceiling.
There were several mysteries to solve that
my mind couldn’t stop analyzing. For example,
the whereabouts of Grandpa and the man who
had taken him. What was in the pants? Was it
the watch or something else? The deception of
Grandma with my mom’s cellphone.
That last one was driving me crazy. The pos-
sibilities were that she was either an accomplice
in the kidnapping or she didn’t know she had
the phone in her bag.
The first option sounded outrageous, but a
good detective doesn’t rule out any possibility.
It was very suspicious that all morning she
had received texts from my mom and always
knew where she was, and she didn’t believe me
when I told her about the kidnapping.
The other possibility was that someone had
put the phone in her bag to incriminate her. But
who and how, since she didn’t let go of her bag?
Only Sofi, José, and I were close to her dur-

148
 ALFRED MERCHEN

ing the day. It could have been José during one

of those hugs they exchanged. But José ended up
being the hero of the movie. He was the one who
rescued my parents, and my dad trusted him.
The only thing that came to my mind was
that the thief from the hospital put the phone in
her bag in the elevator or crossed paths with her
and bumped into her shoulder like they did in
movies, to take advantage and plant it.
Anyway, I spent the sleepless night but
couldn’t decide if Grandma was good or bad.
I closed my eyes and opened them again a
couple of seconds later. Or so I thought.
It was 9:10 a.m. I had slept for three hours!
I’d wasted valuable investigation time.
The mission of the day was to find Turing’s
game and discover the new code.
I left my room and looked out from the bal-
cony that overlooked the dining room. Everyone
was downstairs, even my sister.
I still felt angry with her, but not as much as
yesterday. Maybe someday I would forgive her.
My nose alerted me to the smell of food, and
my feet immediately reacted to my stomach’s or-
der to find and devour that food.
I flew to the kitchen at Mach 3 and hugged
my dad from behind, who was sitting at the din-
ing table.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said.

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 The 9 LIVES of

“Good morning,” I responded to everyone.

Mom was cooking, but she came towards me
and gave me a kiss on the forehead.
“Good morning, my little one. Do you want
scrambled eggs?”
“Yes,” I said, nodding exaggeratedly. “With
arepa, toast, hot chocolate, juice, and everything
there is.”
Mom smiled and pulled a chair next to my
sister for me to sit on. Sofi had a remorseful pup-
py face when she saw me, and I decided to for-
give her in that instant. A weight lifted off my
shoulders.
“Hi, Sofi,” I said in a friendly voice, and
she knew instantly that everything was fine be-
tween us.
Grandma seemed preoccupied and didn’t
even look at me.
Everyone was already eating, and when I
saw my empty plate, I felt a deep depression.
Well, only for a while, because two minutes lat-
er, they served me what I asked for and more: a
glorious chorizo.
“My love,” Mom said to my dad, “remind
me to call Virgin to report the stolen phone. We
need to buy another one. What a pity about my
panda case.”
“Grandma has it,” I blurted without thinking,
like someone throwing a grenade into a crowd.

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 ALFRED MERCHEN

Grandma dropped her fork and turned pale,

her eyes wider than usual.
“What?” my dad almost shouted.
“How is that possible?” my mom asked.
I felt both of them staring at me inquisitively,
but I was focused on Grandma’s reaction.
“Oh, Yaz, dear,” Grandma said with a trem-
bling voice. “It’s true. I have it.”
My mom’s face twisted between confusion
and doubt.
“But how is that possible? I had it in my
pocket when they took us, and then they took it
away from me in the van...”
“Well, Margarita,” my dad said. “Are you
sure? Could it be that you got confused and have
a similar phone?”
Grandma looked at my dad and tried to say
something, but the words wouldn’t come out. I
felt that we couldn’t let this opportunity pass and
had to solve this case soon.
“Yes, it’s my mom’s phone,” I said. “Yester-
day, I called, and Grandma answered. I saw her
take it out of her bag.”
“No, I can’t believe this,” my mom said, put-
ting a hand on her head and pacing back and
forth in the kitchen. “Mom, give us an expla-
nation.”
“I want to see the phone,” my dad said.
“Oh... please... I don’t know...” Grandma

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said, her voice trembling. “Oh God, I can’t

breathe.”
Her pupils moved upwards, and with a sigh,
she collapsed from her chair to the floor.
“Grandma!” Sofi said.
My parents rushed to Grandma’s side, and I
took the opportunity to take a few bites of food.
I was so hungry.
“Mom, Mom!”
“She fainted,” my dad said. “Let’s put her
on a bed.”
My dad lifted Grandma and carried her to
their room. Sofi and Mom followed, but I stayed
behind, savoring the chorizo.
I swallowed quickly, because I knew things
were about to get heated and they would bom-
bard me with questions.
My dad came out of the room after a while,
visibly agitated.
“She’ll be fine,” he told my mom, who stayed
in the room. “Her blood pressure dropped, but
it will rise again. Now I want to see that damn
phone.”
My dad went upstairs to the second floor and
returned with my mom’s phone.
“Look, Yaz, here it is,” he said, standing in
the doorway of their room.
“Where was it?” my mom asked, taking the
phone.

152
 ALFRED MERCHEN

“In the bag.”

They came to the table and sat around me.
“Tell me what happened yesterday with you,”
my dad said.
I signaled him to wait because my mouth
was full, and then I took a sip of juice to wash
down the toast.
“From the beginning?” I said.
“Yes, from the beginning.”
I told them about the note that the wind took
away and the knife in the door, about Grand-
ma not believing me or wanting to listen to me,
and the text messages she supposedly received
from Mom.
“That’s very suspicious,” my dad said.
Mom opened her phone and checked her
WhatsApp.
“Yes, they’re here,” my mom said. “But I
never sent them. How strange.”
“Well, your mom better have a good expla-
nation for all this, or we’ll have to involve the
police.”
At that moment, we heard moaning, and
Grandma calling for my mom.

153
 32
SOFÍA
“YaZ... MY dear...”
Mom got up from the table and went to the
foot of Grandma’s bed.
Dad stood up, placed his hands on the table,
and spoke to my brother and me.
“You two go play or do whatever you want
while I find out what’s really going on.”
He seemed like a fierce wolf as he entered
his room and closed the door.
“Oh, what do you think will happen, Santi?”
“We’ll listen...”
“Maybe we shouldn’t... well, maybe we
should.”
Santi signaled for us to approach the room,
and he stood up from his chair. I stayed seated
and watched as he pressed his ear against the
door. From where I was, I couldn’t hear any-
thing understandable.
“Come here, come here!” Santi said in a low
voice as if I were missing out on something great.
I joined him and listened.
“No, love, how could you think that my mom
would be involved in kidnapping us?” Mom said.

154
 ALFRED MERCHEN

“Then explain how she had the phone in

her bag.”
“Sergio, I don’t know,” Grandma said. “I
swear. I haven’t been able to explain it. That
phone just appeared there on its own.”
“Just appeared?” Dad said, sounding angry.
“Nobody believes that. Tell me how a phone that
was taken from Yaz before you even arrived from
Bogota ends up in your bag.”
“I don’t k now, I don’t k now, I don’t
know...”
“Mom, think carefully,” Mom said. “Don’t
you find it very strange? There’s a WhatsApp
conversation supposedly between you and me.
Did you write both sides of the conversation?”
“How could you even think that, daughter?
I would never... the truth is, I’ve only suffered
since I found your phone in my bag.”
“And why didn’t you say anything?” Dad
said. “Why did Santiago have to tell us? Did
you know that Santiago knew?”
There was silence, and Santi and I looked at
each other with wide eyes.
“Ay, juelita,” Santi said.
Then I heard the springs of the bed and
things moving.
“I don’t have to endure this humiliation,”
Grandma said. “You should support me instead
of accusing me.”

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 The 9 LIVES of

“Take it easy, Mom. Don’t get worked up.

We’re just having a conversation.”
“No!” Grandma raised her voice. “This isn’t
a conversation. You’re accusing me of something
I didn’t do, and you don’t believe me when I say
I don’t know what happened. I’m leaving.”
“One moment, Margarita, please,” Dad said,
calmer. “I know we’re upset, but understand af-
ter everything we went through yesterday. It was
traumatic.”
“Well, you should blame Alfredo instead of
me!” Grandma shouted. “That man has always
had enemies everywhere. Please move, Sergio!
Let me out!”
Santi and I managed to take only two steps
back when Grandma opened the door and
stormed out like a gorilla. She looked at us with
anger and marched towards the second floor.
Mom followed after her.
“Mom, don’t be like this!”
Dad stood next to us, scratching his head.
“What should I do?” Dad said to himself.
“Should I go up or leave them alone?”
Then he looked at us.
“I’ll leave them alone, right?”
We nodded.
“This is getting complicated, isn’t it?” Dad
said. “Come and tell me what else happened.
Let’s see if I can understand this mess.”

156
 ALFRED MERCHEN

We sat at the table, and Santi grabbed some

leftover eggs from someone else’s plate and stuffed
them into his mouth.
“Santi, tell Dad about Grandpa’s book and
the video.”
Santi made a gesture that he had to swallow
first, and we waited patiently.
“Yes, yes,” Santi said, spitting out egg.
“Grandpa had a diary for Mom and a USB for
us.”
“Who’s ‘us’?” Dad asked.
“For Sofi and me.”
“Ah, okay. And for what?”
“Well...”
Grandma and Mom’s footsteps on the stairs
interrupted Santi.
“Don’t do this, Mom,” Mom said.
Grandma appeared in the hallway with her
suitcase, still walking like a gorilla.
“I already said I’m leaving, and I won’t
change my mind.”
“At least wait, and we’ll take you somewhere.
You don’t even have a fl ight arranged.”
Grandma opened the front door and turned
around.
“There’s no need for you to bother. Any taxi
can take me to the airport.”
And she left.

157
 33
SANTIAGO
MoM started clearing the Plates. she had
tears in her eyes and didn’t want to talk to any-
one. Dad tried to talk to her, but she shooed him
away.
“Leave me alone, Sergio. Not now,” she said,
and my dad wisely retreated.
We saw him go for his phone and make a
call to the office.
Sofi left me in the hallway and went to hug
Mom.
“My missing dad and my angry mom...”
“Everything will be fi ne, Mom. Don’t cry
anymore.”
At that moment, I had a brilliant idea. I went
to my room and brought Mom Grandpa’s diary.
“What’s this?” she said when I offered it to her.
“Read the letter first,” I said.
She sat down with the diary and the letter
and began reading. The tears multiplied, but her
face had an expression of happiness. Satisfied,
Sofi and I went to the living room.
“I know!” I said. “Bring Dad here. I’ll be right
back; I’m going to get the laptop and the USB.”

158
 ALFRED MERCHEN

I went up and down again, but there was no

one in the living room, so I started connecting
the laptop to the TV. They arrived shortly af-
terward.
“What are you going to show me?”
“A video that Grandpa left for us,” I said.
“Sit down,” Sofía said.
They sat together, and I connected the USB
and went through the voice recognition process
and connected to the server.
“This is going to get interesting,” I said.
The video started, and Grandpa appeared
in his military uniform. Dad leaned forward.
“Is that Alfredo?”
“Yes,” Sofi said.
The doorbell rang twice.
“Pause it, Santi,” Dad said, getting up from
the couch.
I immediately locked the screen, feeling a
bit nervous.
Sofi beat my dad to opening the door.
“Hello, how are you?” José said. “Am I in-
terrupting anything?”
“No, no, don’t worry, José,” Dad said. “Come
in, please.”
“I don’t want to bother...”
“It’s fine, man. We owe you. Keep going.”
“Thank you,” José said and entered. “Hello,
Sofía. Hello, Santiago. How are you?”

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“Good,” Sofi said.

“Yeah, good,” I said.
“Please, have a seat,” Dad said.
I looked at the screen again, making sure it
was locked.
“Well, yesterday I was supposed to meet Mar-
garita,” José said from the comfortable chair in
the living room.
“Margarita, yes,” Dad said. “Well, she’s not
here.”
“And will she be back soon?”
“I don’t think so.”
José made a “tell me what I missed, please”
face, and my dad briefly told him the story, leav-
ing out his bad mood, of course.
“What do you think of all this?” Dad said
when he finished the story.
José settled into his chair and pressed his
lips together.
“I don’t know. I’m speechless... Margarita is
a good woman. I haven’t known her for a long
time. We only started dating two weeks ago in
Bogota, and, well, I was in business meetings
here in Medellín, and she called me yesterday
to take her and the kids to the hospital. From
what I can tell, she was always kind to me, al-
though she didn’t talk much about her personal
life. She’s a private person.”
“I see,” Dad said.

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 ALFRED MERCHEN

“And regarding the phone, it’s very suspi-

cious, yes. I was absent for about an hour or
more from the hospital due to a meeting with
a client, and I think the kids left her alone too,
right? I saw them leaving Starbucks.”
“Yes,” Sofi said.
“So maybe something happened during that
time, I don’t know. I’m not saying she’s guilty of
anything. But you never know for sure... what
do you think, Santiago?”
“Um, well, I think a lot of things. In fact,
I’ve been thinking all night. Maybe someone
put the phone in her bag. The guy who took
Grandpa, maybe.”
“Yes,” Sofi said. “I saw it in Grandpa’s room
when we arrived at the hospital.”
“What?” Dad said, surprised.
“It’s true,” José said. “Sofi told me that yes-
terday, and that man is the main suspect.”
“Hmm.” Dad rubbed his beard.
“Sofi also told me about some videos that
Grandpa left for you,” José said. “And maybe
we’ll find clues there to help us rescue him. Who
knows, just like we found you.”
“Ah, you know about Alfredo’s video?” Dad
said. “Actually, Santi was showing me the video.
It’s something very unexpected. Santi, please
play it so José can see.”
A cold chill ran down my spine. Grandpa

161
 The 9 LIVES of

had said that the information in the video was

for us only. No one else was supposed to know
about the family treasure, about the watch that
was our inheritance. I stood still, doing nothing.
“Santiago, please, I already told you.”
I shook my head. Dad looked at me with a
face that said, “Oh, I’m going to scold you for
being disobedient.”
“Well then...”
I unlocked the computer and tried to think
of a way to pretend that the video wasn’t work-
ing to buy some time. But I didn’t have to do
anything, because the video was gone. The ap-
plication seemed to be reloading as if it had re-
started on its own.
Then a different screen appeared. It didn’t
have a blue background like the usual video; it
was white. Then Grandpa appeared with his
head bandaged, lying in a bed.
“Hello, children. Hello, Sergio. I’m sorry I
had to hack your computer, Santi, for this live
call, but I found out that you’re not alone with
your family, but with an old friend I met in
Egypt. Shalom, Youssef.”
José sprang to his feet.
“This can’t be!” he said.
A loud noise made us all jump. The front
door burst open, breaking into pieces, and a man
entered, pointing a gun at us. I recognized him

162
 ALFRED MERCHEN

immediately. He was the man I had seen in the

hospital’s security cameras. The man who had
Grandpa.
Sofi screamed. I thought it was because she
had seen the thief, but it was something worse.
José had grabbed her by the neck and had a gun
pressed against her head.

THE STORY CONTINUES IN:

163
 THE AUTHORS
Diego Pineda is passionate about telling sto-
ries and teaching others to write wonders. He has
published five novels, 9 non-fiction books, and
hundreds of articles and blogs. He is also a fan
of epic and adventure films, Mexican food, and
chocolate ice cream.
Diego was born and raised in Medellin, Co-
lombia, where the story of this book takes place.
He now lives in British Columbia, Canada, with
his wife Diana and their son Daniel, who are co-
authors of this series.

Diana Pineda is the founder and director of

Rhema E-School, an online alternative education
school for children who want to develop their tal-
ents and be happy while learning. You can learn
more at www.rhemaschool.com. When she’s not
transforming education, you can find Diana at
the gym, enjoying nature, or reading young adult
literature.

Daniel Pineda is an avid reader with an epic

imagination, obsessed with manga, anime, and
video games. He loves listening to music, danc-
ing, and eating everything (literally).
 In addition to writing this story as a team,
the Pineda family is famous for watching all the
series and movies from the Marvel and Star Wars
worlds together.