“I knew you were busy, Dr. Piccolo, I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, not at all, thanks for picking up the slack.” Dr. Piccolo looked at Paolo, “You’re in good hands, son.” The door closed.
After Dr. Payne gave Paolo a thorough cognitive assessment, he turned his attention to Lynn. “Mrs. DeLaurentis, physically your son is fine.” He flashed his perfectly white teeth and his eyes twinkled. “I would love to test Paolo further to explore his abilities.”
Paolo shook his head.
Lynn ignored him. “What type of testing?”
“A simple psychological examination that will test his extrasensory perception. In other words, ESP.”
“I will have to discuss this with my husband but I don’t think it will be an issue. Will it, Paolo?” Lynn’s voice was stern.
“No, Mom.”
“Paolo, it won’t be that bad, we’ll make a game out of it. Plus you can have all the soda and ice cream you want.”
“Really?” he said sarcastically.
“Absolutely.”
The doctor stood and patted Paolo on the head. Paolo grimaced at his touch.
“If it’s okay with you, Mrs. DeLaurentis?”
“Please call me Lynn.”
“Okay, Lynn, I will have my secretary call you and arrange the testing for next Tuesday.”
“That would be great. Thank you, Dr. Payne.”
“Please call me Colin.”
“Thank you, Colin.”
As the mother and son entered the car, Lynn reached over and slapped Paolo in the back of the head.
“Ouch! Mom, why did you do that?”
“Because you were very rude to Dr. Payne.”
“But Mom, the guy is a snake.”
“Paolo, that is enough! You will go for testing and you will do what he says.”
Paolo sat resigned, sulking. “Yes, Mom.”
Paolo scored one hundred percent on the entire test. Throughout the three days of testing, he showed an incredible, if not fantastic, sense of prediction. Not only was Paolo clairvoyant and telepathic, he also had an innate ability to understand complex problems, Dr. Payne explained. Paolo’s brain absorbed everything and in quick fashion. In layman’s terms, his brain was like a computer.
In Payne’s opinion, Paolo was a savant. The problem was that he had no other physical or mental incongruities associated with savants. He showed no signs of autism. He had no mental retardation and no brain injury other than an extremely high fever in third grade. According to his parents, the fever exceeded the thermometer’s limits.
Dr. Payne found no record of Paolo being in the hospital. He used his government contacts to obtain a copy of the police report of the incident. Within a day of his request, a messenger dropped off the information. The report stated what the parents had said—the child had a high fever—with a vague description from an emergency medical technician.
Dr. Payne sat at his desk in his office on Howard Avenue. In the room cluttered with books, he read the report on Paolo DeLaurentis. There was a knock on the door.
“Come in.”
An older, gray-haired woman entered. “Dr. Payne, Mr. and Mrs. DeLaurentis are here.”
“Show them in, Estelle.” His tone was curt and arrogant, that of a physician who placed himself above the multitudes who sought his help in healing their disease.
“Yes, Doctor,” Estelle’s response was equally curt—more like, “Yes, asshole.”
The twenty-nine-year-old neurologist stood and tucked in his white button-down shirt. His hands brushed his pants, then smoothed his hair. He walked around his desk to meet Paolo’s parents. The attractive couple held hands and smiled. Dr. Payne went over to Tony and shook his hand.
“Come on in.”
“How are you, Colin?” Tony said.
“I couldn’t be better. Please sit down.” Payne pointed to the two chairs opposite his desk.
Lynn looked quizzically at Tony. “You two know each other?”
“Colin belongs to the country club. When you mentioned his name, I didn’t put two and two together.”
“That’s because you never listen.”
“Sorry, honey.”
“Lynn, I’m not sticking up for your husband, but I only go to the club occasionally. I didn’t know Paolo was his son.” He pointed again to the chairs.
The husband and wife sat in the upholstered chairs. The sharp-nosed neurologist sat at his desk and leaned forward, hands folded on the black blotter, waiting for the question he so often heard.
“Well, Colin, is my son okay?” Tony asked.
“He is more than okay, he is truly remarkable. Paolo has a unique gift. I’m truly amazed. Paolo told me how you used his gift to bet on football games.”
Lynn looked at her husband. “You did what?” Her face was red with anger.
Payne, embarrassed, said, “Sorry, I thought she…”
“I just did it a couple of times and besides…”
Lynn cut him off. “Nevermind, we’ll talk about it when we get home. So is he okay, Colin?” Her anger subsided.
“To answer your question, yes, he is quite normal.” The doctor continued, “Outside of his intellect and his paranormal ability, he is a well-rounded teenager, which in itself is astounding. You and your husband have a unique and exceptional child.”
Lynn asked, “What do we do?”
“Nothing, allow him to be a teenager. Don’t question him about the gifts.” Payne turned his head toward Tony, “Or ask him to use his gifts.”
Tony lowered his head.
“It’s okay, honey.” Lynn grabbed hold of her husband’s hand.
Payne continued, “Paolo is extremely cognizant of his gift.” He leaned forward, “Treat him as you treated your other children. Allow him to grow and have fun. He will find his way.”
“Okay,” Tony said, placing his hands on his lap. “We know you are busy.” He pushed up from his chair. “Thanks for the help, Colin.”
“Yes, thank you,” Lynn said.
Colin stood, holding a medical file. He walked the two to the door. “Here,” he handed the folder to Lynn. “This is Paolo’s file. Destroy it. We don’t want anyone to find out about him.” With a puzzled look, Lynn took the file.
“Tony, maybe we can play some golf in the next week or so. My schedule is pretty light. I have to be in Washington for a couple of days. How about Saturday morning at ten?”
“Is that okay with you, honey?”
“Fine with me.”
“Great. I’ll meet you at the clubhouse.”
“Sounds good, Colin.”
Lynn grabbed her husband’s hand. They walked to the elevator.
The history of governments using individuals with so-called paranormal abilities dates back to Biblical times. Stories of extrasensory perception reached the intelligence agencies of the United States as early as World War II. An allied spy network in Germany came across documents that showed Hitler relied on astrologers and seers to move his armies.
In the early 1950s, intelligence agencies throughout the world explored psychic research. The Cold War brewing, covert agents of the leading powers navigated the massive chessboard called Mother Earth, spying on one another to determine the war capabilities of their enemies. The three superpowers conducted tests on individuals with presumed paranormal abilities. It was a psychic arms battle, with the Russians and the Chinese well ahead of the United States.
A collective effort began among US intelligence agencies to find the ultimate secret weapon—not a destructive weapon, but rather a weapon with all the answers.
The government began to fund secret projects dealing with the paranormal. The CIA coordinated the extensive nationwide research and Dr. Colin Payne of Yale University, a well-known neurophysicist, became the government’s lead researcher.
In the mid-1960s, one of these projects involved using extrasensory perception to try to infiltrate communist spy networks within the United States. At the time, the
White House had no idea that a thirteen-year-old boy had the paranormal ability they so desperately sought.
Payne closed the door. He walked back to his desk, opened the drawer, and took out a copy of Paolo’s file. The physician walked over to his wall safe and placed the file inside, next to the 8mm movie of Paolo’s testing.
Dr. Payne concealed the information from the government. He classified Paolo as a remote viewer; he also believed the young boy had the ability to bi-locate but he had no actual proof.
By definition, a remote viewer has the ability to obtain accurate psychically derived data on persons, places, and events anywhere in the world. The ability to bi-locate is defined as the appearance of an individual in two places simultaneously. Bi-location was an ancient phenomenon, experienced by mystics, saints, monks, and holy people. Saint Anthony and Padre Pio had this uncanny ability, and so did Paolo DeLaurentis.
When the university discovered that Payne secretly worked for the government, they promptly terminated his employment. The doctor then joined the NSC. Payne kept Paolo’s secret, hoping to manipulate the child for his own benefit. Over the years, Dr. Payne stayed in contact with the family.
CHAPTER 7
PAOLO AND BILL graduated at the top of their high school class, first and second respectively. Paolo was accepted into Yale University and Bill into the Naval Academy. The two would converse weekly via phone. Bill was Paolo’s best friend through thick and thin. In high school and during his freshman year of college, Paolo’s gift was dormant, other than his recurring dream of a woman who took his heart away.
Paolo’s ability to enter into the psychic world as a remote viewer began when he was a sophomore at Yale. One Sunday while at his parents’ house for dinner, a family tradition carried down from his great-grandparents, Paolo and his brothers flipped through a family photo album. They came across a picture of their cousin Carla and her friend Adriana.
“Madonna mia! Look at the boobs on her,” Paolo’s brother Bobby said. “Paolo, maybe Carla can fix you up with her.”
Anthony said, “Look at that face! Dooze brut-ugly.” He placed his thumb between the forefinger and middle finger and shook his hand while raising it toward his chin. His eyes said, “What, are you crazy?”
“Who cares if she’s ugly? Look at that body,” Bobby said as he held the picture.
“No, she’s not my type,” the nineteen-year-old said.
Their mother stood in the doorway of the family room, a yellow kitchen towel in her hand. “Boys, dinner’s ready. I need one of you to get two extra chairs.”
“I’ll get the chairs,” Bobby said.
The seventeen family members took their places. Anthony, the oldest, sat by his father. Paolo, the youngest and still unmarried, sat opposite his father at the other end of the table with the nieces and nephews. The men sat on one side while the women sat closest to the kitchen. The children were all close in age. Eleven-year-old twin boys belonged to Anthony and his wife Tina. A second set of eleven-year-old twin boys belonged to Veronica and her husband Evan, referred to by the family as “the American.” Both couples each had a younger daughter, as well. Bobby and his wife Maria had two daughters, ages nine and six.
Tony and Lynn loved Sunday afternoons. Having the grandchildren around was life-giving. Lynn loved to cook for the family. Life was good. Life was safe.
After dinner, Paolo went back to the den. He sat on the couch, the photo album open to the page with the photograph of Carla and Adriana.
Bob was right, she has a great body.
The picture of Adriana ingrained in his mind, Paolo sat back and closed his eyes. Adriana sat on a doorstep. She noticed Paolo across the street and waved at him. He waved back. Suddenly he heard his niece.
“Look at Uncle Paolo. His eyes are open. I think he is dead.”
Paolo said, “Boo.” His niece jumped back and started to laugh, a nervous laugh.
“I’m not dead, you silly girl. I was sleeping.”
“You sleep with your eyes open?” the nine-year-old asked.
“They were closed, silly.”
“No, they were open, I swear, Uncle Paolo.”
The phone rang. Lynn answered it. Paolo listened.
“Hello? Hi, Carla. How are you?…No, he’s here. Of course I’m sure. Would you like to talk to him?…Really? And where is Adriana?…In Boston? And he waved to her? No, he’s right here. Tell her it wasn’t him. Say hi to your mom and dad. I have to go take out the apple crisp…Love you, too. Bye.”
Lynn walked into the room. Paolo sat there and shook his head.
“Dr. Payne?”
“Yep, I’ll call him in the morning.”
“Okay.” A mother’s sense, in tune with her youngest son.
The next day Paolo called the doctor. Being coy, he told Payne what he saw, withholding the interaction between him and Adriana. He had begun to realize that sometimes it was best to keep some of the truth away from the doctor.
The following November, Paolo’s junior year at Yale, he arrived at his apartment later than usual. He drove up in his forest-green 1970 Firebird, Neil Young’s Southern Man playing on the 8-track tape player. His oldest brother, Anthony, waited on the stoop of his apartment. Paolo opened the car door and said, “Antnee, what are you doing here?” Then he noticed sadness in his brother’s eyes. He walked over slowly. “What’s going on?” His voice cracked, a lump in his throat.
“Dad died of a heart attack this afternoon. We’ve been trying to reach you.”
“Damn, damn.” Paolo turned away from his brother, walked the short path to his car. Anthony followed behind. The young scholar leaned against the vehicle. Tears streamed down his face. Arms folded, his head bent, he said, “Son of a bitch.” Then with his left hand, he banged the side of the car. “Is Mom okay?”
“No, the doctor gave her a sedative to sleep.”
“Shit, I can’t believe this,” Paolo’s lower lip and chin wobbled.
The older brother reached out, pulled Paolo to himself. The two hugged, sobbing in each other’s arms.
The next three days were a blur. The Italian custom was to wake the body for two days. Family and close friends attended the viewing the first day. The second day was open to the public. The third day was the toughest—the final goodbye, the funeral Mass and burial in the family plot. Paolo’s mother and siblings asked him to give the eulogy.
The limousine pulled up behind the hearse on a dreary, rainy November morning. Paolo blankly gazed out the window. A small crowd surrounded the entrance to the church. The family sat quietly in the car waiting for the six cousins and Paolo’s childhood friends Steve and Tony to remove the casket from the hearse.
“Are you okay, Mom?” Veronica asked.
“I wish this was over with.” A tissue held to her eyes, Lynn said, “How I loved your father. At least he’s at rest with Nonnie and Poppie, God rest their souls.” She made the sign of the cross and began to weep.
Anthony wrapped his arms around her. “It’ll be alright, Mom, it will be alright,” he said. A lump rose in his throat and he held back a heavy sigh.
The driver opened the door. Cold air swept through the black limousine. Bobby got out first, helping his mother, followed by Veronica and Anthony. Tears in his eyes, Anthony looked back at Paolo and said, “Make us proud, little brother.” The funeral director lined the family behind the coffin. Anthony and Bobby stood on either side of their mother. On either side of Veronica were Paolo and Bill, dressed in his naval uniform. The funeral participants gathered behind the family in the vestibule of the church. Lynn’s uncle, Father Anthony, had died several years earlier, so Father Bob, a long-time friend of the family, walked down the aisle to meet the coffin. After Mass, he invited Paolo to come forward to give the eulogy.
“On behalf of my mother, my brothers Anthony and Bobby, and my sister Veronica, thank you so much for being here. Today we share in the celebration of a man we desperately loved. The words I speak come from my heart because my dad
is now with me in my heart.” Paolo tried to hold back his tears. His voice quivered as he continued.
“Dad’s undying and steadfast love for our mom was an example for us all to emulate in our own lives.
“When I was sixteen, hormones raging, independence beckoning on my doorstep, dating, falling in love, Dad decided the time was right to have the talk. He told me this: when you fall in love, fall in love for the right reason. Not lust or desire, but love from the heart, from the soul. Seek out the woman of your dreams, the woman you would die for, sacrifice your life for. When you find her, tell her you love her. Tell her you need her in your life. Do what she asks of you and most of all, respect her. If you respect her, she will respect you.
“You see, my father was telling me more than just how to love a woman. He was telling me how to love life. He showed us by example how to love your neighbor. Most of all, he taught us the love of family.
“My father was a man of greatness because he had a loving wife…Mom, we love you. What we learn from my dad’s life is love, unconditional love. May my life be blessed with the love he had in his heart. If he were standing here today, he would say to you, I love you. Dad always said I love you. Those spoken words are sometimes misinterpreted. When you heard those words from my dad, you knew they came from his heart.
“Thank you all so much for being here this morning to celebrate love…the love of my dad. On his behalf, my family and I, ‘I love you.’”
The casket lowered, Paolo and Bill watched as sand was thrown into the grave.
“Come on, Pard, I’ll drive you back home,” Bill said.
“Thanks for coming, Pard, I really appreciate it, and so does Mom.”
“I had to be here, he was like a father to me. After all, he gave us our nicknames.”
“Yeah, that he did.”
“I take it your ESP gave you no warning?”
“Nope, as I tried to tell Dr. Payne, it comes and goes.”
“He still calls you?”
“Yep, he wants me to work with him after I graduate. I told him no. He wasn’t happy. He said I owe him because he never told anybody about my gift. He said he would ruin me if I didn’t help him.”
Messenger From God (The Last Eulogy Series Book 1) Page 3
