
His sister used to tell him, Go ahead, blow it up, let me see you take that plane out of the sky with all two hundred people aboard, and it scared him to hear someone talk this way and it scared her too because she wasn’t completely convinced he could not do it. All he had to do was wish the fiery image into his mind and the plane would ignite and shatter.

He was sensitive to the most incidental stimulus and he thought he could feel the object itself yearning to burst. He’d watch a plane gaining altitude after taking off from Sky Harbor and he’d sense an element of catastrophe tacit in the very fact of a flying object filled with people. An aircraft in flight was a provocation too strong to ignore.


He believed, at thirteen, that the border between himself and the world was thin and porous enough to allow him to affect the course of events. “My son used to believe that he could look at a plane in flight and make it explode in midair by simply thinking it.
