Altered Children

On a sunny Wednesday afternoon in Holley, NY, a small town west of Rochester, Anna Burgio was stuck in her bedroom, one of three in the double wide mobile home. Her parents owned the home with its detached garage, and the lot on which they stood. The Holley Heights Residential Park was an upscale mobile home park in Bennett’s Corners. As it happened, her bedroom was also her sanctuary, a place where she had some degree of privacy. Her parents usually respected that privacy, but the voices did not.

Anna’s parents had told her time and again to stop lying about the voices in her mind and to forget her imaginary friend, but she could not help herself. When Anna thought someone was speaking to her, she often replied out loud before she could catch herself. If either of her parents heard her, they would be upset and punish her, usually by sending her to her room. Anna knew her parents were worried and decided to try harder to control it.

Her fourth birthday was a little over two weeks away on November 18, 2022, and she did not want to do anything to spoil it. Her mom and dad were going to give her a birthday party in the residential park’s recreation room and she was looking forward to it.

Anna’s mother, Carla, was expecting her husband, Gino, to get home soon and had just changed from her housedress into a skirt and loose blouse. She wanted to look nice, and also conceal the extra weight she had put on while pregnant with Anna, but was unable to get back to the diminutive stature she had once been proud of. Carla thought she looked much older than her thirty-six years.

When Gino came home from his job as an assistant manager at the Walmart in Brockport, Carla greeted him and gave him time to get comfortable on the living room couch. Then she handed him a beer and let him enjoy a big swallow before she sat next to him.

“They did it to me again!” Gino complained. “Walmart picked Bill Kovacs to be the new store manager, instead of me. Him and his college degree!” Neither Carla nor Gino and gone beyond a high school education, where they were sweethearts. Married at twenty-three, they lived with Gino’s parents for four years. They tried unsuccessfully to have a child during the five years after they moved into their own place. Then, Anna was born.

“Sorry, lover,” Carla empathized. “Maybe you should take some business classes at the community college.”

“How many times do I gotta tell ya!” Gino growled. “What with work and all I gotta do around here, I don’t have time. Twelve years I worked there. And here I am, thirty-seven years old and an assistant manager!”

“You’re still young. We have time.”

“Maybe I don’t look like they want a manager to look.” Gino rubbed the back of his hand, and scowled as he often did these days. He was self-conscious of his five-and-a-half-foot height, thin build, and the thick glasses he wore to correct his astigmatism.

“I don’t believe it,” Carla said. “I think you’re handsome. You remind me of that actor who we saw on TV last night. You know . . . Charles Bronson.”

Gino’s face softened. He smiled and looked deep into her blue eyes. “Thank God I’ve got you and Anna,” he said stroking Carla’s brown hair.

Carla took the rosary beads out of her skirt pocket and held them. “Gino, I’m worried for Anna. I’m afraid she’s possessed. We gotta talk with Father Matthew about an exorcism!”

“Great!” Gino frowned again. “One more thing goin’ wrong. I thought this was under control.” He and Carla were frustrated over Anna’s behavior. Gino was uncomfortable whenever his life became disorderly and not under his control. He downed his beer and handed the empty bottle to Carla. “Damn! What did she do now?”

Carla brought him another beer. “When I got the mail, Anna asked me if she could wear the dress my sister sent her in the package I was carrying. But, she couldn’t of knowed what was in the package or that it was from Rose. How could she know those things if she’s not possessed? This thing’s got me scared.”

Gino rubbed his forehead and brushed back his light brown hair. “I don’t know! How’s it gonna look if we tell the Church we want an exorcism?”

“What does it matter how it looks? We’re talking about Anna’s immortal soul! We could lose her to Satan!”

They had tried to speak softly so Anna would not overhear them. But because of the powerful emotional content of their discussion, Anna sensed bits and pieces of it with her mind. She had been lying on her bed reading, but sat up suddenly listening for her parent’s voices. Her blue eyes wide, Anna thought, Why are they angry with me? What’s happening to me? What does “possessed” mean?

After sitting quietly on the couch for a couple of minutes, Gino calmed down, swallowed three big gulps of beer, belched, and mumbled, “Yeah, you’re right, Carla. Let’s call him now.”

Father Matthew’s aging secretary informed them he was with a parishioner and would return their call soon. Carla sat restlessly on the couch next to the phone trying to sew. Gino alternated pacing back and forth with reading the paper, getting nowhere. They frequently checked the clock. Twenty minutes later, Father Matthew called.

Carla answered on the first ring. After listening for a second, she put her hand over the mouthpiece and called out, “Gino, come sit down. Get on the phone with me. It’s Father Matthew.” She then greeted their priest.

With obvious concern in his voice, Father Matthew said, “I understand you’re concerned about Anna. Please tell me what’s troubling you.”

Carla looked at Gino, who indicated for her to describe the situation. “Father, five or six months ago, Anna started talking to an imaginary friend. We didn’t think it was a problem until a few weeks ago when Anna told us she was hearing other voices too. And she seems to know things she shouldn’t ought to.”

Father Matthew asked for details. Carla and Gino described Anna’s ability to know what was in sealed packages, and who was at the door before she could see or hear anybody. Carla continued, “And it seems to be getting worse. Father, is she possessed?”

“It’s highly unlikely. There is probably a natural explanation. Would you both like to meet with me so we can speak more of this?”

Carla sighed deeply. “Thank you, Father. That would be great.”

“When can we see you? Gino inquired.

I’ll let you talk with my secretary. She’ll check my calendar and make an appointment for you. I’ll see you at mass. God bless you.”

Father Matthew put them on hold, buzzed his secretary and told her to make an appointment for as soon as possible.

The secretary inspected the priest’s calendar and pushed the button for the outside line. “Mr. and Mrs. Burgio, Father Matthew does have an opening on Friday at 10:30 a.m. Can you make it?”

“Nah, I gotta work,” Gino said. “Can’t we meet on Saturday instead?”

The secretary again checked Father Matthew’s schedule. Gino rejected two suggestions for early evenings in the following week. He and Carla insisted they could not wait another week, so the secretary made an appointment for Saturday at four thirty.

Thursday and Friday went by without incident. Late Saturday morning Carla heard Anna talking in her bedroom. “Please, who are you?” Anna begged. “Where are you?”

Carla opened the door and saw Anna was alone. “Anna! Who are you talking to?”

Anna jumped up from her bed, blushing. “No one, Mommy. I was just talking to my dolls.” Anna was not holding a doll, and no dolls were on her bed. She could see from Carla’s expression her mother did not believe her.

Carla sat down next to Anna, put an arm around her. “Honey, Georgia will be with you for a while later today. Your daddy and I have to see Father Matthew.”

“Mommy, can’t I come with you? I’ll be good.”

“No,” Carla told her. “We won’t be gone long.”

The tension from earlier in the week had abated and they all enjoyed their lunch of tuna salad sandwiches, pickles and potato chips. After lunch, Carla and Anna played checkers and Gino read the sports section of the newspaper. Anna won her third game in a row and was getting bored.

Carla started to sew, but paused as she noticed Anna reclined on the floor looking at the newspaper’s daily television schedule. She and Gino had been surprised a few months ago to find Anna starting to read. Anna’s ability to read and speak nearly as well as adults made them proud, despite their worries over her odd behavior.

At three thirty that afternoon, Georgia arrived to sit with Anna. The twenty-three mile drive to St. Joseph’s Catholic Church in Le Roy took them almost forty-five minutes through mostly rural farmland. They found Father Matthew waiting for them in the rectory. With his slight build and glasses, they both thought he looked a little like Father Mulcahy (William Christopher) in the M*A*S*H sitcom still being rebroadcast on television.

“Come in. Sit here at the desk across from me.” After they’d sat, Father Matthew said, “I’ve been considering what you told me on the phone, and—”

Gino interrupted. “All I want to know is, if she’s possessed what do we do about it?”

“I understand you’re upset,” Father Matthew observed. “It’s not that simple.”

“Sorry, Father,” Gino mumbled. “But what about an exorcism?”

“First, here are the basics,” the priest continued. “Exorcisms are rarely performed because most requests for it have no basis. When asked for, the church first tries to eliminate all natural causes of strange behavior. Three possible explanations for the behavior you described:are natural, divine, or diabolic.”

Carla crossed herself. “Oh God. Mary, protect us.”

Father Matthew held a hand up and cocked his head, telling her to be calm. He held his hands in front of him as if praying, and slowly rocked them back and forth as he spoke.

“I’ll arrange for an appropriate professional to investigate,” he continued. “If a natural, rational explanation cannot be found, then I’ll ask the Bishop to have the church examine Anna to determine if there is some divine intervention in her life . . . something miraculous. If this cannot be proven to the church’s satisfaction, only one explanation would remain, demonic possession.”

Gino slid forward to the edge of his chair. “Father, how long will it take? What do we hafta do?”

“There’s a psychiatrist who helps our parish from time to time—”

Gino, his blue eyes flashing, interrupted again. “Father, d’you think my Anna’s crazy?”

“No,” Father Matthew exclaimed. “Of course not. Remember what I said. We have to take it step by step and eliminate the natural causes first. It is possible Anna could be delusional. However, her behavior could have a medical basis, something treatable with therapy and medication. The psychiatrist’s name is Karen Pacheco. She’s a good Catholic and very knowledgeable about these symptoms.”

“What’ll this cost? Isn’t a shrink expensive?” Gino inquired.

“I don’t think Dr. Pacheco will charge too much, and your health insurance could cover most of it.” The priest thought for a bit. “If you have a problem paying for it, the church might pay a portion of the expense for you.”

Gino sighed. “I hope you’re right, Father. That would be a big help.”

“If you can’t wait until Monday, I can call her now. She probably won’t be in her office, but her answering service should be able to reach her. However, it could be a while before Dr. Pacheco can call us back.”

“We need to get home soon,” Carla reminded her husband.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed. “I guess it can wait until Monday.”

“I’ll call Monday morning and tell her to expect you to call for an appointment,” Father Matthew promised. “You can still talk to me about this at any time, and I will keep in touch with you and Dr. Pacheco to see how Anna’s doing.”

“Thanks, Father,” Carla said.

Father Matthew wrote something on a piece of paper and gave it to Gino. “Here’s Dr. Pacheco’s phone number and address. Her office is in Rochester near the corner of Elmwood Avenue and East Drive, just east of Strong Memorial Hospital.” They all got up. Father Matthew escorted them to the door of the rectory. “I’m sure everything will be all right. You’re in our Lord’s hands. God bless you.” He watched them walk arm-in-arm for a moment and then returned to his office.

On the first Thursday evening after their meeting with Father Matthew, Carla, Gino and Anna prepared for their appointment with the psychiatrist.

“Dress nicely for when you meet the doctor,” Carla said to Anna, as she opened one of her daughter’s drawers to look for just the right blouse. Suddenly Carla jumped back with a little screech and a moth flew out. “How did that moth get in your drawer?”

“I’m sorry, Mommy. I put a cocoon in there and forgot all about it.”

“Whatever for did you do that?”

“I was curious to see what would happen to it and . . . I won’t do it again.”

“Just keep away from insects, Anna, they could be dangerous.” Carla shook her head.

“But they’re so interesting, Mommy.”

“Well, we’re in a hurry now. We’ll talk about this later.”

The Burgios arrived at Karen Pacheco’s office a few minutes before their seven o’clock appointment. They entered a waiting room with a calming ambiance from soft lighting and music. Beautiful oriental rugs graced wood floors instead of the linoleum flooring they were used to seeing in a doctor’s office.

Carla and Gino turned left and sat on a comfortable sofa with large pillow-like cushions in the back and on the armrests. Anna found a seat near Carla on a matching easy chair which faced an oak coffee table in front of them. The chair and sofa were separated by an end table with a Tiffany-styled lamp centered on it. A dozen magazines lay on the coffee table. A sconce lamp on the wall opposite the sofa glowed warmly above an unoccupied desk and chair.

The door facing Anna opened and a delicate-looking, middle-aged woman entered the room. Dr. Pacheco was dressed smartly in a tan blouse and what appeared to be a beautifully tailored expensive blue linen suit to complement her brown hair and green eyes. Her friendly smile highlighted a cleft chin.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Karen Pacheco. Welcome to my office.” She walked toward Carla and Gino and extended her hand.

Carla, Gino and Anna stood. Gino shook Dr. Pacheco’s hand. “I’m Gino Burgio. This is my wife, Carla, and our daughter, Anna. Thanks for seeing us.”

“You’re welcome. I hope I can be of help. Father Matthew explained your situation.” The psychiatrist locked the outer door and then turned toward Anna. She noticed Anna was a little larger than most children her age, and saw she had freckles over her nose and cheeks, and had light brown hair and blue eyes. “Anna, will you be all right out here for a little while?”

“I’ll be okay,” Anna said.

“Good.” Dr. Pacheco pointed to a shelf under the end table. “You can read one of those books, a magazine, or I can set up a disk so you can watch something on TV. We’ve got programs from the Discover Channel, History Channel, and Animal Planet. What would you like to do?”

“Umm . . . can I see an Animal Planet one?”

“Sure.” Karen Pacheco turned on the TV, tuned it to channel three and inserted the DVD. “We won’t be too long, Anna, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes. If you need anything, just come in and interrupt us.”

Carla and Gino followed Dr. Pacheco into her office, and immediately observed the credenza against one wall with a modern sculpture on it. A nearly full bookcase surrounded the credenza. While Gino was oblivious to his surroundings, his wife glanced at the artwork and framed photographs and certificates placed throughout the room. At the doctor’s invitation, they sat facing her across her cluttered L-shaped desk.

“If you don’t mind, I always record these sessions,” Dr. Pacheco said as she switched on the recorder. “Please tell me what is going on in your family to make you seek help from Father Matthew and me. Would you like to start, Mrs. Burgio?”

“Okay. Anna hears voices. That’s the main problem. But, she also knows things she shouldn’t ought to. We wonder if she’s possessed. We went to Father Matthew to get an exorcism for Anna.”

“Can you give me some examples?” Dr. Pacheco asked.

Carla and Gino spent the next fifteen minutes describing Anna’s strange behavior, interspersed with questions by the psychiatrist. Gino was extremely animated with his explanations.

“Would you both go out to the waiting room now and send Anna in. I’d like to talk to her alone. I’ll call you back in when we are done, in . . . maybe ten or fifteen minutes.” The Burgios rose, clasped hands and left.

Anna appeared a short time later clutching a National Geographic magazine to her chest with both hands. “Hi,” she said, twisting her body nervously.

“Hello Anna. Please sit here on the recliner. I’ll sit next to you.” As soon as they were seated, Karen Pacheco said, “I see you brought in a magazine. Is there something you wanted to show me?”

“I’m sorry,” Anna mumbled. “I forgot I had it.”

“Were you reading or just looking at the pictures?”

“Yeah. I mean I was reading about the pictures.”

“Please show me?”

“Okay.” Anna opened the magazine and read the captions for several pictures out loud slowly, carefully pronouncing each word. Squirming excitedly, she pointed to a drawing of a bee doing a dance. “See, it says the dancing bee tells the other bees where he found food and how far away it is by the direction he faces when he turns and how many turns he makes.”

Without stopping, she turned to a picture of a gorilla drawing a picture with crayons. She read the caption. “Jaali draws a picture of his cat.” Anna pointed to the word “Jaali” and asked, “Is that his name?”

“Yes,” Dr. Pacheco replied. “This article says his name means ‘powerful’ in the Swahili language.” She briefly described the use of American Sign Language by Jaali, Koko and other primates. “How did you learn to read?”

“I watch a program on TV that teaches how to read and add and subtract and other stuff.”

“Very good, Anna. Did you read anything else in the article?”

Without looking at it, Anna quoted from the article’s description of how insects communicate. When Dr. Pacheco asked where in the article she got the quotation from, Anna showed her. The psychiatrist quickly read it and closed the magazine. “How long have you been able to remember so well?”

Anna glanced at the ceiling and scrunched her brow. “Ever since I started reading.”

“Are you able to write?”

“Some,” Anna mumbled. “Do you want me to show you?”

“Yes, that would be good. Can you write me a short note telling me what you had for breakfast this morning?” The doctor handed Anna a notepad and a pencil. Anna wrote for a minute and handed it back.

“Excellent. You’re a very smart little girl and write well for your age.” Dr. Pacheco made a few notes in her notepad. “Do you know why you and your parents came to see me?”

Anna squirmed. “I think so. My mommy and daddy are angry because sometimes I hear people talking, but nobody’s there. They think I’m possessed. What does ‘possessed’ mean?”

“It means to have a spirit inside you. It could be a good spirit, sort of like an angel, or it could be one that likes to cause trouble. But, I don’t think you’re possessed, and we are going to find out what’s going on. Don’t worry about a thing, okay?”

“Okay, but I am kind of afraid.”

Dr. Pacheco held Anna’s hand. “I do understand, Anna. Now, can you tell me more about these voices you hear?”

“Well, it’s sort of like people talking, but not like I hear you talking to me. I hear them in my head. Sometimes I can understand some words and other times I can’t. It’s like . . . uh . . . when Miguel down the street talks to his mom in Spanish. I hear the words, but I don’t understand them. Sometimes I see pictures—like in a dream—but I’m not asleep.”

“That’s remarkable. Do you talk to those people too?”

“I haven’t really tried . . . not exactly.” Anna glanced nervously around the room.

“Let’s change the subject,” Dr. Pacheco said. “Your mother told me you knew a package which had just come in the mail had a present for you from your aunt Rose—a dress. How did you know this?”

“I don’t know. I just did!” Anna proclaimed defensively.

An instant later, a book near the edge of Karen Pacheco’s desk seemed to jump off and fall on the carpeted floor with a soft thunk. Both of them jumped in their chairs.

“For goodness sake!” Dr. Pacheco exclaimed. “How did that happen?”

“It wasn’t me, I didn’t do it,” Anna muttered.

“Has anything like it ever happened before, Anna?”

“No, I never saw nothin’ like that before,” Anna said, shaking her head vigorously.

Dr. Pacheco wrote a comment in her notepad. “Okay, Anna, we’re almost done for now. Do you go to school yet.”

“No, but I think I’m gonna start in a year.”

“Yes, that would be about right.” Karen Pacheco made a final entry and closed her notepad with a clip on the page where she left off. “I really enjoyed meeting you, Anna, and I would like very much to talk to you again. I have several tests I’d like you to take.”

“What kind of tests?”

“They’re a lot like games we can do together. Would that be okay with you?”

“Yes, but you have to ask my mommy and daddy first,” Anna replied.

“I’ll speak to them. Come with me to the other room now.” Dr. Pacheco got up, guided Anna to the door to the waiting room and opened it. “Anna, please sit down in there again and wait a little while longer. You can watch more of the Animal Planet show or read some more.” She turned to Anna’s parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Burgio, please come in now and we’ll chat a few minutes longer.”

Once seated in the doctor’s office, Dr. Pacheco leaned back in her chair, elbows resting on the armrests, hands in front of her with fingers interlaced. “Anna seems like an extremely intelligent girl with unusual abilities. Her language skills are exceptional for her age. Do you know how well she can read?”

“She started to read before I ever did, and she reads pretty good,” Carla answered. “But, I don’t know how smart she is.”

“She really is smart?” Gino inquired.

“I believe so,” Dr. Pacheco answered. “Few children her age can read and write as well as she does. Do you know what a child prodigy is?”

“A kid who’s smarter than other kids, right?” Carla said.

“Basically, yes. They’re extremely gifted children who display expertise in something like chess, music or art, as well as reading and writing, much younger than the average child. I’ll give you one example. You know who Oprah Winfrey is?”

“Yeah,” Carla replied. “She had that TV show.”

“That’s right. “She learned to read at the age of two and a half. When it was time for her to start kindergarten at five, she wrote a note to her teacher, insisting she belonged in first grade. The teacher agreed and promoted her. Most children can’t read and write as well as Oprah did at five until they are around six or older. Anna could be at least as gifted as Oprah. Do you know how well she remembers—and understands—what she reads?”

Carla and Gino gazed at each other briefly. Gino shrugged. Carla said, “I don’t know.”

“She seems to be autodidactic, with a photographic memory,” the psychiatrist said.

“Huh? What d’you mean?” Carla wanted to know.

“She is self-taught and remembers whatever she reads . . . and maybe a lot more.”

“Sound’s terrific. But what about those voices and the other things?” Gino inquired.

“Now that’s another matter,” Dr. Pacheco declared. “I know this has been a strain on all of you. There are three possible reasons for Anna’s unusual behavior, and we need to investigate them and find out what’s really happening.”

Carla crossed herself, then gripped Gino’s hand and asked, “Is it serious?”

“It’s too early to tell, but I doubt it. The first possibility is schizophrenia. There are people who hear voices and suffer from schizophrenia—a mental disease treatable with medication and psychotherapy. However, in Anna’s case it is extremely unlikely because it rarely shows up below the age of thirty-four in women, and I’ve never heard of a case in a child this young. The second possibility is a brain tumor—”

Carla squeezed Gino’s hand and exclaimed, “Oh m’God, no!”

The psychiatrist continued. “It doesn’t have to be cancerous. Many tumors are not. Tumors in the brain sometimes put pressure on certain areas and elicit strange behaviors. It’s a condition we definitely have to investigate.”

Gino rubbed the knuckles and back of his right hand. “What’re the odds it’s cancer?”

“I don’t want you to worry about that now. I am inclined to think cancer’s not the problem here, but we do have to check it out. The last possibility is, Anna has somehow developed paranormal abilities and she doesn’t know how to control them.”

“What does that mean, ‘paranormal’?” Gino inquired.

“Anna is exhibiting a degree of clairvoyance—the ability to be aware of things for which there is no physical basis for knowing—like knowing there was a dress in the package from her aunt. It’s also known as ‘remote viewing’.” Dr. Pacheco avoided mentioning the incident with the book until she could determine the extent of Anna’s telekinetic ability. “Those voices she claims to hear could be real. Someday she might be able to communicate with people through her mind, telepathically.”

“But that’s not normal, is it?” Gino asked.

“No, but it isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I don’t have enough information to go into it further at this time. We can test her paranormal abilities, and I also want to test her intelligence. Those tests can be like games, and Anna seemed interested in doing them with me.

“But, first I want to make an appointment for her at the hospital to do a brain scan and measure its electrical activity. Then we can meet and discuss the results. Has Anna ever had surgery in which metal has been implanted anywhere in her body, particularly above the waist?”

“No, not at all,” Gino replied. “Why?”

“There are several types of brain scans we could do. I prefer the MRI because it provides a better quality image than other scans. MRI stands for ‘magnetic resonance imaging’. Since it uses magnetism, metal would blur the images, and could cause problems.”

“Do you have experience with this sort of thing?” Carla asked.

“That’s a good question. It’s important to feel confident and comfortable with your doctor. I’ve been practicing psychiatry for fourteen years and have treated people suffering from schizophrenia and brain tumors. In addition to my medical degree, I have a doctorate in Psychology from UCLA. There, I specialized in Parapsychology and participated with Douglas Moran in studies of paranormal behavior. I assure you I’m very well qualified to treat Anna.”

“Who’s Douglas Moran?” Carla inquired.

“He was a professor at the University of Maine, and he ran a parapsychology degree program there. They specialize in training psychologists to help people who are struggling with their paranormal abilities to overcome associated stress.”

“Please explain those tests you want to give Anna at the hospital,” Carla prompted, as Gino nodded his head vigorously.

Dr. Pacheco described the procedures and concepts for MRI scans and EEGs. Following ten minutes of discussion, she said, “It’s rather late in the day to call the hospital now. Unless it’s an emergency, you have to call the Radiology Department between 7:00 a.m. and 3:30 p.m. to make an appointment. I’ll call first thing tomorrow to make the appointment for early next week, and instruct them to send me the results. Someone will let you know when to be there, and give you directions.”

She paused long enough for Gino to inquire, “What if I have to work?” He rubbed his knuckles nervously.

“Your wife will have to take Anna. This is too important to delay.” Gino mumbled his agreement and Dr. Pacheco continued, “After I’ve reviewed the results, we’ll arrange to meet here and go over them.” She gave instructions to Carla and Gino to prepare Anna for the test.

“Should we talk with Father Matthew about our meeting today?” Gino asked.

“No, that won’t be necessary. After the tests are completed and we’ve gone through them, I’ll send him a report. He may want to speak with you then.”

“You’ve given us a lot to think about,” Carla said. “We’ll see you in a few days.”

Dr. Pacheco saw Carla, Gino and Anna to the hallway door and said goodbye.

Early Friday morning, Karen Pacheco called Strong Memorial Hospital and arranged for the tests to be given the next Tuesday at 9:00 a.m.. Gino was not able to get time off work for this appointment, but Carla told him she could handle it herself.

Tuesday was a crisp fall day with a light breeze when Carla drove Anna twenty-five miles to the hospital. Upon their arrival at the Radiology Department, the receptionist handed Carla a pen, and a clipboard with papers to fill out. Anna sat quietly and looked through some magazines and children’s books while her mother completed the forms. Finally, Carla checked the forms, signed and dated the release, and returned everything to the receptionist.

A short time later, a lanky white-haired man in a lab coat entered. He introduced himself as the radiology technician. He led them into a small room with an EEG machine, desk and patient table. The technician helped Anna onto the table and immediately started setting up the machine and attaching the electrodes to Anna’s head.

“What are all those wires for?” Anna inquired, with some concern.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the technician said. He explained the procedure to her and her mother, while continuing with the setup. He ran his baselines, started the machine and stepped out of the room. The technician returned every few minutes to check the machine and instruct Anna to open and close her eyes, and to breathe heavily, several times.

The EEG concluded in forty-two minutes, and the technician returned. “Well, how was it, Anna?”

“Borrrring,” she replied before giving a big yawn and stretching. “I hope I don’t have to do that again.”

The technician said they would be ready to do the MRI in a few minutes. As soon as the machine was ready, he called Carla, who was walking in the hallway with Anna. He brought them into the MRI room. “Mrs. Burgio, from the forms you filled out, I know Anna doesn’t have metal implants, like a pacemaker or pins in her bones. Now, we need to make sure Anna has nothing made of metal on her, such as rings or anklets. If she does, please remove them.”

Anna gave her mother the ring and necklace she was wearing.

The technician helped Anna onto a soft vinyl-covered platform resting on tracks leading into the gaping hole in the center of the MRI machine. “Anna, it won’t be as boring as the EEG was. It’ll be finished in less than fifteen minutes.” He secured her head in the padded headrest.

“Good,” Anna said, looking the machine over. “What does this one do?”

“The MRI takes pictures of your brain using magnetism and radio waves. Your mother and I will be in the control room and you can talk to us with the intercom if necessary.” The technician led Carla into the control room, sat down at the console, turned on the MRI, and checked a few readings. He held down the intercom button. “Anna, we’re ready to start now.”

The technician flipped a switch and the platform with Anna on it started to move slowly toward the machine. Anna became agitated. He was going to tell her to remain still when the phone rang, startling him and Carla. He quickly answered it and found the chairman of the hospital’s Neurology Department on the line.

“What’s the status of the Burgio girl?” the chairman asked.

“She’s on the table and moving into the MRI.”

At the same time, they heard Anna through the intercom. “Mommy, I don’t like this!”

“Stop it!” the chairman commanded. “For God’s sake, stop the MRI immediately!”

The technician reached over and flipped the switch into the Stop position. The table stopped short of the giant magnet. “It’s stopped. What’s up, doctor?”

“We have more questions to ask about the patient before we can continue. I’ll be down shortly. I’m on my way now.” the neurologist abruptly hung up the phone.

“Is something wrong?” Carla demanded. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.” The technician hung up his phone. “That was the chairman of the Neurology Department. He’s coming to talk to us. Said there were more questions before we continue.”

“What’s happening?” Anna asked through the intercom. “Can I get down?”

Carla pushed the intercom button down. “No, honey, not yet. Be patient, it’ll only be a few minutes.”

“But I hafta go to the bathroom. I want to get off.”

“Can she go to the bathroom while we’re waiting?” Carla inquired.

“Sure. I’ll go in and help her off the table.” The technician gave her directions to the bathroom and instructed her to come right back.

The technician went to get Anna, but she pushed him away and said, “Wait, please!” He could see from her facial expression she was in deep concentration. Several seconds went by. Anna opened her eyes wide, smiled and held her arms out to him. The technician helped her off the table and brought her to Carla.

As they went out the door to find the bathroom, Anna’s face brightened with a big grin and sparkling eyes. “Mommy, I just talked to someone with my mind, and he talked back to me.”

“Honey, are you sure it wasn’t your imagination?”

“Yes. It was different than before. I really did talk to a boy—I know I did. He said he lives in Washington.”

“Okay. I . . . uh . . . I believe you. We’ll tell Dr. Pacheco when we see her again. Can you talk to that boy now?”

Anna stopped walking and a look of concentration crossed her face for a short time. Then she frowned. “No. But I’m gonna try again soon.”

Carla and Anna returned to the MRI’s control room, followed moments later by the Neurology Department chairman, a highly experienced neurologist, who said, “I was conferring with the head of our Radiology Department. Her secretary had just handed her a fax.” He gave a copy of the fax to the technician.

“What’s going on?” Carla questioned.

“It’s a little weird,” the neurologist replied. “The fax had been received late last night and the secretary had just gotten to it. It warned us not to do an MRI in certain cases. I checked the MRI schedule and decided to follow up on this one myself.”

The technician handed the fax back to the neurologist. “I can see why. This is a very strange one.”

The neurologist faced Carla. “I have to ask you some questions. First, has Anna been behaving peculiarly recently?”

“Like what?” Carla responded, uncertain how much she should reveal.

“Well, . . . now this may sound strange,” the neurologist said. “Has she been hearing voices?”

“Yes,” Carla replied, surprised at the question.

“It’s like people talking in my head,” Anna interjected. “But, I mostly can’t understand them . . . until today.”

Until today? the neurologist thought before continuing. “Thank you, Anna. Do you ever know something, like what’s inside a bag or an envelope, when you haven’t actually seen it yet?”

“Yes,” Anna answered. “I knew my auntie sent me a dress, but the package wasn’t open.”

“It happened only a week or so ago,” Carla confirmed.

“Anna, are you able to move things, like a toy or a book, without touching it, merely by wishing it to move?” the neurologist inquired.

“I don’t think so, . . . but maybe I did once. I don’t know. Gosh that would be fun!” Anna exclaimed, with a big grin for the second time since she began the exams.

“How did you know about those things?” Carla asked the neurologist.

He paused for a moment. “I didn’t. But according to the fax, it appears a child in Virginia is able to do these things . . . and . . . it’s better if we use a different kind of scanner. We’ll see if we can set it up for today.”

The neurologist stepped over to where the technician was sitting and whispered to him, “This other child has an unusual abscess or tumor containing what appear to be metal filaments in his brain. If Anna has a similar mass in hers, she could have been seriously injured if we had done an MRI scan.”

The technician looked away from the PC monitor. “We’re lucky, doctor. The CT scanner will be available at two o’clock today.”

“Good, let’s set it up,” the neurologist told him. “When the scan is done, send everything to my office.”

The technician left the room and the neurologist said, “Mrs. Burgio, we’re in luck. We can do a CT scan today instead of the MRI. How long has it been since Anna had anything to eat or drink?”

“She had a little juice at . . . oh . . . around seven this morning. Why?”

“We have to give Anna some dye to drink for the scan, and I want to reduce the chance of nausea and discomfort.”

“Will it taste bad?” Anna crinkled her nose.

“Not too bad,” the neurologist replied. “It’s going to take a little while to set up, so why don’t you and your daughter go to the reception area and try to relax. Make sure she doesn’t eat or drink anything. The technician will get you as soon as he’s ready.”

“But I’m hungry. Can’t I have something?” Anna implored.

“Sorry, Anna. Not yet.” The neurologist turned to Carla. “I’m going to call your doctor now and let him know what’s happening. I need his permission to do the CT scan anyway. I’ll get his number from your file.”

“It’s ‘her’, not ‘his’,” Carla said. “Her name is Karen Pacheco and her office is in the medical building just past East Avenue.”

“Sorry about that,” the neurologist confessed. “I’ve actually worked with her before.”

After Carla and Anna left, the neurologist explained to the technician why he stopped the MRI, and then returned to his office to call Dr. Pacheco. He was put through immediately. He described the fax, told her of stopping the MRI and his plan to do a CT scan. He also gave her the URL address to the website set up by Krasicki and Sanchez.

“Thank you very much,” Dr. Pacheco said. “You got the fax in the nick of time. Go ahead with the CT scan. And please send me a copy of the fax along with the test results.”

“Will do. We’ll run a non-contrast scan and a contrast scan. They’ll use a non-ionic contrast dye to reduce the possibility of an allergic reaction. It will be administered by mouth and should be no problem for Anna. I’ll make sure the results of the EEG and CT scans are sent to your office as soon as we’re done. Let me know if you need anything else, and please keep me informed about this case. It’s aroused my interest.”

Meanwhile, Carla and Anna had taken a brief walk and returned to the Radiology Department. They arrived shortly before the technician came for them. The CT scan was completed without incident, and they both went home.

Carla was preparing dinner and Anna sat in the living room reading as Gino came home from work and greeted them. Carla motioned Gino to come into the kitchen.

“I called at eleven fifteen, but you weren’t home yet,” Gino said. “How did it go?”

“It was awful weird,” Carla replied. “They had to stop the MRI and do a CT scan instead, but I’m not exactly sure why. Maybe Dr. Pacheco can tell us.”

Carla grabbed Gino’s arm. “And Anna believes she actually talked to a boy in Washington with her mind. She didn’t just hear a voice this time.”

Gino shook his head. “We’ll hafta ask Dr. Pacheco about that too when we see her about the test results. Damn! Do these doctors know what they’re doing or are they guessing?”

“Why ask me! I don’t know no more than you. Let’s be patient until we see the doctor.”

“Yeah, you’re right, as usual. It’s just . . . well . . . you know, I’m really worried.”

“I know. Me too,” Carla agreed.

Over the next couple of days, Anna tried unsuccessfully multiple times to speak telepathically with the boy in Washington.

Thursday morning, Dr. Pacheco called Carla and agreed to see them Friday afternoon when Gino would be available. Carla arranged for their neighbor, Georgia, to take care of Anna.

The phone call with Carla completed, Karen Pacheco tried to rub the tiredness out of her green eyes, then stretched and yawned. She’d not gotten to sleep until after one o’clock in the morning and was still tired. Anna’s test results had arrived the previous afternoon by messenger.

Dr. Pacheco had reviewed them and spent several hours looking through textbooks and searching websites for information on brain tumors and paranormal behavior. She was frustrated because, other than the website set up by the doctors in Virginia, she had found little of value after all those hours of research.

She yawned again, ran a hand through her brown hair and got up from her desk. The doctor went to the small bathroom off her office, splashed cold water on her face and then returned to her desk. Dr. Pacheco thought for a moment and then called Father Matthew.

“Father, we’ve completed the tests on Anna Burgio. There is a strange abscess or tumor in her brain. Though it doesn’t appear to be causing Anna’s symptoms, it does seem to be related somehow. We just don’t know how.”

“It sounds serious. Is there anything the church can do?”

“Not now. Whatever is causing her bizarre behavior, it looks like the result of a physical event or trauma. I’m planning to do follow-up testing at the hospital for the next two or three months. Furthermore, I want to meet with Mr. and Mrs. Burgio, and with Anna, on a regular basis for awhile, if they’ll agree.”

“If you need my help to convince them to continue seeing you, let me know.”

Dr. Pacheco explained about the four-year-old boy in Virginia with the same kind of tumor and symptoms. She promised to send the priest a report and keep him informed.

Dr. Pacheco poured a cup of mint tea and sipped at it while gathering her thoughts. She called the chairman of Strong Memorial’s Neurology Department. They discussed Anna’s test results and the Virginia website.

The psychiatrist agreed to submit information regarding Anna to Krasicki and Sanchez using the form on their website, without revealing the Burgios’ names. The neurologist said he’d already forwarded their fax to some imaging centers and hospital radiology departments missing from the faxed list, updated the list on their website, and notified them of the update. A little before nine that morning, Dr. Pacheco submitted information on Anna to the Virginia website.

Carla and Gino were at Karen Pacheco’ office promptly at five o’clock on Friday, were ushered into her office and seated in front of the desk.

“I received the results Wednesday afternoon,” Dr. Pacheco said, “and devoted quite a bit of time reviewing them. I also spoke with Strong Memorial’s head of neurology. It turns out there is an abscess or tumor-like mass in Anna’s brain.”

“What! Does she need an operation?” Gino inquired, clenching Carla’s hand tightly.

The doctor opened a folder on top of her desk, removed the CAT scan image and placed it in front of Carla and Gino. “First, there’s no swelling of surrounding brain tissue. So, it doesn’t seem to be causing undue pressure. It’s in an area . . . right here.” She pointed to the grayish area with bright streaks in it, highlighted by a red circle around it. “It’s located where we really can’t get to it safely to remove it. So, there won’t be an operation.”

“Is that what’s causing Anna’s odd behavior?” Gino inquired.

“I wish I knew for sure,” Dr. Pacheco replied. “I don’t think so, but it’s possible.”

Carla sighed and dabbed her blue eyes with a tissue. “So, what do we do next?”

“A child in Virginia has a similar tumor—we’ll call it a tumor for lack of a better name. I spoke with the doctor who is treating this other child. We should follow the procedure he’s using with his patient. I want to schedule another scan in one month and the month after. We need to see if there is any change in the tumor.”

“Is . . . is that really necessary?” Carla asked.

“Yes it is. The three of you should see me once a week, for at least a couple of months. We’ll talk about how you’re all coping. I know this is stressful, and our meetings will help you deal with it. I also want to see Anna alone once a week. As I mentioned before, I want to test her intelligence and the extent of her abilities, and help her to handle what’s going on. Will this work for you.”

Gino looked pensive. “I think so, but I want to check my medical insurance first. It’ll be awful expensive, won’t it?”

“It won’t be cheap,” Dr. Pacheco warned them. “But, don’t worry. We’ll work it out, one way or another. Can we go ahead and schedule the appointments?”

“Sure,” Gino said, “but it all depends on how much it will cost us.”

“I don’t care how much it costs!” Carla avowed and glared at Gino. “We have to do whatever we can for Anna, don’t we?” She turned to Dr. Pacheco. “I almost forgot. Anna told me that after they stopped the MRI, she talked with a boy in Washington by—what’s the word —telepathy. She said he talked back to her and she understood him.”

“This is important. I’m glad you told me. I’ll be sure to speak to Anna about that. Now, can we schedule the sessions?”

They agreed to begin the sessions the next week. As Carla and Gino were rising from their chairs, Dr. Pacheco held up her hand to stop them. “Before you leave let me say something else. I see how overwhelmed you both look. But, remember our discussion about child prodigies the last time you were here?”

Carla and Gino sat down again. “Yes,” Gino said tentatively. “Sure,” Carla added.

“I’ll have a good idea how intelligent Anna is within the first couple of sessions I have with her. If she’s as intelligent as I think she is, I would like to get her started in a gifted children’s study program run by the University of Rochester. I’m quite sure she would qualify for a scholarship so it probably won’t cost you anything. She could be with other gifted children and learn at her own pace. This is something good for you to consider.”

“Does that mean she won’t go to a regular elementary school?” Carla inquired.

Dr. Pacheco grinned. “I think you’ll find Anna will learn more quickly and be much happier at the new school.”

“How will she get there?” Gino asked.

“They can pick her up and bring her home by bus, if it’s necessary,” Dr. Pacheco replied. “There will be a lot less stress for her, and for you too.”

When Carla and Gino left the office, they smiled at each other. Carla said, “You know, lover, I feel hopeful for the first time in quite a while.”