The journey begins

Gabriel was a good boy, restless, mischievous, and very curious. At just seven years old, he already showed an intelligence that could have earned him an accelerated advancement in school. As soon as he learned to read, he discovered in storybooks and comic magazines a different world, a universe he could transport himself to through his vivid imagination. In school, these qualities worked against him, as he quickly grew bored with the class and started daydreaming, inventing stories, and traveling to distant worlds.

These "journeys" were the cause of many scoldings from his teacher, which often led to punishments at home. He was the only child of hardworking parents who struggled daily to make ends meet, pay off debts, dress, eat, and occasionally treat themselves to a weekend movie. They rented a modest house not far from the city center, where little Gabriel had his own room. His room was a chaos: clothes strewn everywhere, toys, magazines, and posters of his cartoon idols covering much of the walls. 

At eight years old, he read a book by Jules Verne for the first time: "Journey to the Center of the Earth." He was captivated by the story and the countless images of vast caverns, underground seas, and prehistoric animals that his mind conjured up. This was the beginning of his love affair with the incredible French writer. 

During those days, when he was about to finish reading that book and carried it everywhere with him, his mother sent him to buy groceries at the corner store. Gabriel obeyed reluctantly; he was desperate to finish the last pages, so he walked distractedly, stumbling repeatedly, hypnotized by the epilogue of that extraordinary story. At Don Carlos' store, while waiting his turn to be served, he was startled from his reading by the gruff voice of an old man he had never seen in the neighborhood.

The man was also waiting his turn and, seeing the boy so engrossed in his reading, approached him and said: 

— That's a good book! Old Verne got it right! 

Gabriel was startled. He looked at the kind-faced old man, with a broad nose, red cheeks, and thick eyebrows peeking over his glasses. A pipe that threatened to fall from his mouth, hidden by a thick mustache, emanated a strong sweet tobacco aroma. The boy smiled at him but didn't have time to respond; it was his turn to buy. 

— A kg of bread, Don Carlos. 

— A kg of bread... Anything else, Gabriel? 

— No, that's all. The shopkeeper put the bread in a bag and, looking at the man who was now distractedly inspecting the fruit prices, bent down to the boy's level and whispered in his ear: 

— Be careful, kid! Don't get close to that crazy old man! —As he said this, he indicated the stranger with his eyes, who was now sampling some grapes. Gabriel, frightened, glanced sideways at the old man. He took his bag, paid for the bread, and, without taking his eyes off the stranger, headed for the door.

Before crossing it, the old man smiled at him and, with his pipe in his right hand, waved goodbye. In the following months, he ran into him a few more times, during which the old man greeted him in the same way as the first time in the store. Gabriel had heard from the neighborhood gossips that the old man was a foreigner who had escaped from World War II (though others said he had actually escaped from the First), and that he was crazy.

Some of his friends claimed to have seen him eating shoe soles and even going out at night to hunt rats and cats to cook his favorite stew. Although the neighborhood's chatter and inventive tales about the old man were endless, this was largely because nothing was known about his background. He had appeared in the area a few years back, had no friends though he greeted everyone kindly, and no known relatives. He was considered a crazy old man and was treated with some suspicion, but the same people helped him make a living with his small watch repair shop; he was good at his job and charged very little, fixing everything from worn-out wristwatches to alarm clocks and wall clocks; in short, all kinds of clocks, mostly old junk that should have been thrown away. 

No one knew his age, which is why many argued he was older than Methuselah and even said he had escaped the sinking of the Titanic. All these stories were amplified when a relative of Doña Clara—the neighborhood's biggest gossip—came from Europe to visit his only living relative. The visitor, around seventy years old, told stories of his native Switzerland that left half the neighborhood speechless.

Where he had lived most of his life, back in the fifties, he had known a watchmaker whose face was identical to the strange neighbor's. The surprising thing was that even back then, this man had the same gray hair and wrinkles. Coming from Doña Clara's family line, known for being terrible gossips and liars, many didn't take this story seriously, but others let their imaginations run wild. 

Gabriel's life passed without much upheaval in the following years. At school, he remained just as distracted but always managed to pass his grades without trouble. He continued reading new stories by Verne: "Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea," "From the Earth to the Moon," "Around the World in Eighty Days," which only fueled his hope of living amazing stories in the future.

But, when he turned eleven, an event occurred that changed his life and the idyllic image he had of it. Suddenly, his entire fantasy world seemed to collapse like a house of cards. That morning, no one in his house got up. Neither Gabriel was woken up by his mother as usual to have breakfast and go to school, nor did his father go to work; the phone rang several times—Gabriel's father never missed work, even under the worst circumstances of a cold. No one answered. Immediately, suspecting something in that harsh winter, Gabriel's father's friend and supervisor decided to go to the house to see what was happening.

Once there, after knocking insistently on the door, he peered through the keyhole and saw the key inside. He called the police, who forced the lock, and as soon as they entered, they could smell a gas leak. The water heater had malfunctioned, filling the house with carbon monoxide. Fate, chance, or some special circumstances, acted so that the only survivor of the tragedy was Gabriel. He was rushed to the hospital, where they managed to reverse the level of intoxication he had. He recovered; he overcame the poisoning, but the deepest wound imaginable opened in his heart. With the death of his parents, his life was shattered. He had no other direct relatives, no one else. It was just him with the memories of a happy childhood abruptly broken. Under these circumstances, he was sent to an orphanage until he came of age.