Chapter 15 – Wishes

Monday, October 5th

I followed the news closely and I read all I could about Katie Garcia. I read her report on a Washington DC news site. It was just as she said. They’d found the cause of the fires, but no easy method to stop them. The report said, “The fires are an unintentional side effect of a family and some unknown radiation from outer space.”

She wasn’t on Facebook or Twitter. I couldn’t find anything else about her. I found her on LinkedUp but hadn’t updated her page for four years, ever since she got her job at Oakridge National Labs.

I sighed. She was really good-looking and really smart. I knew I wanted to see her again. I didn’t care she was eighteen years older. But how?

Clueless, I turned to my homework. History is my least favorite subject. I had to write a paper about Watergate, due tomorrow. I knew the basic facts, but I didn’t want to write the paper. But if I didn’t turn it in, I’d blow my chance for an A.

How could I write this in the least painful way possible? If Katie were here, I could do it. Hey, I could wish her here! But that’d be too aggressive and wreck her day and probably ruin her experiment. She wouldn’t like that at all.

But I could experiment with wishes and report that to her. She’d given us her card with her Oakridge email address. I’d make wishes and tell her the results.

“Here goes! I wish I’d want to do the history report and that I’ll get an ‘A’ on it.” Saying it out loud seemed important to me. I jotted down the wish and the results on my phone. I actually did want to write the paper now, just to prove the wish worked.

I started typing on my laptop.

* * *

Tuesday, October 6th

“Wow, good job Sean! You got an ‘A’ on your history report,” Mom said as she looked through the papers I brought home from school.

“Good job, son.” Dad smiled at me from his recliner.

“Thanks, Mom and Dad.” I sat down on the living room couch. I felt a little guilty getting the results through wishing. I hadn’t only gotten an A in history, but I had perfect record in math, science, and English as well. All done with wishing.

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“What’s the matter, son? You look concerned.”

I had to tell them. “Um, I had some help.”

“What? Did a friend help you?” Mom asked.

“Uh, no. I wished for an ‘A’.”

“Did you do the work?” Dad asked.

“Yeah, I typed it up the day before. It seemed really easy. But I feel guilty about using wishes.”

“What exactly did you wish?” Mom asked.

“That I’d want to write the paper. And that I’d get an A.”

“But you did the research and the writing yourself?” Dad said.

“Yes.”

“That sounds fine to me. You used the wish to motivate yourself.” Mom patted me.

“You did all the work. I don’t see a problem.” Dad crossed his arms and shrugged.

“It’s not only history. I’ve gotten only perfect scores in math, science, and English since last week.”

“You wished for A’s in those subjects too?” Dad said.

“Yeah. Perfect scores. I wanted to make you proud.”

“We’re already proud of you son. You already had A’s in science and math and a B in English,” Mom said.

“I’m on my way to straight ‘A’s.”

“But you’re doing all the work,” Dad said.

“It still feels like cheating.”

“You’re not looking up the answers on the tests, are you?” Mom looked at me.

“No, I just know them”

“With or without reading the book or hearing the teacher?” Dad raised his eyebrows.

“Um, I don’t know. Everything just makes sense. The answer seems obvious.”

“I guess I want to know, are the answers just popping into your head or are you recalling them? If you’re remembering things you read or heard, then I see no problem. If the answers are just appearing from nowhere, then I don’t know what to think. That’s magic.”

“Like pants catching on fire,” I said. “I can’t think of any case of me knowing an answer I hadn’t heard of before. I’ll look for that.”

“Thanks for telling us, Sean,” Mom put her hand on my shoulder. “I’m proud that you shared your worry with us.”

“I was just feeling kind of fake. You were praising me, and I didn’t feel I deserved it.”

“Ah. The imposter syndrome.” My mom nodded.

“What’s that?”

“Artists, authors, and other professionals get that feeling. That they’re not real, they’re faking their career.”

“That fits. I don’t feel really smart. I’m imitating it.”

“But son, you really are smart,” said my dad.

“And you’ve always been.” Mom hugged me.

“We’ve always known it. You’re just maximizing your potential. It might even be a placebo effect.”

“What? I don’t know that term either.” I looked at Dad.

“It’s when you believe something will work: a pill or a technique, and it does. The result isn’t connected to the pill or technique but the belief. It’s a real effect, real enough that doctors will use it on patients.”

“Huh. Maybe I’m too hard on myself.”

Dad nodded. “That fits. I’m hard on myself and mom is hard on herself. It makes sense you’d have the same tendency.”

“Okay. Thanks a lot. I feel better. I’ll just keep on what I’m doing, wishing my way to perfection.”

“Why’d you start doing that, anyway?” Mom tilted her head at me.

“Well, I wanted to document the effects of wishing for Katie Garcia. I kind of like her.”

“Of course! I should have known there was a girl behind this!” Dad threw his arms in the air.

“Phil! She’s a grown woman, not a girl! Sean, she’s way older than you.”

“A man’s gotta have a dream.” I grinned at her.

Mom threw her hands in the air.

Later, I typed up the results of my grade wishing and sent it to Katie. Maybe she’d email me back.