The wind´s shadow. Chapter 1: The cemetery of forgotten books

They were the first days of summer 1945 threshed (another unusual word choice, and not sure what you are trying to say) and we walked along Barcelona´s streets.
"Daniel, what you are gonna see today, you can´t tell anybody,"- he warned- not even your friend Tomás. To nobody. (we use quotation marks, not dashes, as in Spanish) 
_ Not even Mom?- I inquired.
My father sighed, 
_ Of course- he answered bowed (do you mean humibled?)   We don´t have secrets with her. You can tell her everything.
Shortly after the Civil War, a cholera outbreak killed my mother. We buried her in Montjuïc in on my fourth birthday. I only remember that it was rainning all day and all night, and that, when I asked if the sky was crying, my father lacked voice to answer. After six years, my father and I lived in a small building in Santa Ana´s street, beside the church. The apartment was above the specialized library in collector´s editions and used books, inherited from for my grandfather.

I remember that down later? in June when I woke up screaming, mMy heart beat if as my soul wanted to run. My father came to my room and held me in his arms, trying to calm me.
_ I can´t remember her face!!! I can´t remember mum´s face!- I whispered breathlessly.
- Don´t worry, Daniel, I´ll remember her for both of us.
My father started to become old, his eyes always looked back. He got up and drew the curtains.
_ Come on, Daniel, put on your clothes. I want to show you something.
_Now? At 5:00 a.m.?
_ There are things that only can be sawn seen between darkness- he insinuated, showing an enigmatic smile.
The streets were still dark when we left the apartment. I followed my father along the streets. Finally, my father stopped in front of a big wood door, it was carved and blackened by time and humidity. In front of us it loomed what seemed an abandoned cadaver of a palace.
_ Daniel, what you are gonna see today, you can´t tell anybody, not even your friend Tomás. To nobody.