"IF I make 75 points, I get a light-up mini-refrigerator," said Matthew. "It has glowing ice cubes and spinning lights on the front."
"How exciting! " replied Ms. Reddy.
"He's going to let me put stuff in it," said Tommy, Matthew's little brother.
"You can't touch it," said Matthew.
"You're not the boss of me," snapped Tommy.
"Boys," said Mom. "Why don't you show Ms. Reddy the catalogs?"
"What are you raising money for?" asked their neighbor.
"Our school's new -- there's no swings or slides. When I sell stuff, I get points. I have 11 -- 14 more and I get a Hummer limo ride to eat pizza," said Matthew.
"My! Let's see -- I'll take the tomato basket."
"Yes! Thank you," said Matthew, turning to leave.
"Mom," shouted Matthew, days later. "Guess how many points I have." He charged into the kitchen. "Twenty-six!"
"That's enough for the limo ride," exclaimed Mom.
"More than that -- I'm getting the fridge. I'll show Lauren."
"Lauren?" asked Mom.
"He's always showing off. He says he's going to get the light-up fridge. I hate him."
"Matthew!"
"Matthew hates Lauren," chimed Tommy.
"You'll never touch my fridge," Matthew yelled.
The next day, Matthew's teacher announced that Lauren was sick. "I have a get-well card everyone can sign," she said.
"How sick is he?" asked Matthew.
"Will he die?" wondered Nicholas.
"No," said the teacher. "I certainly hope Lauren doesn't die."
"You know what that means," said Nicholas after class.
"Lauren can't get the fridge!"
"How many points do you have?" asked Nicholas.
"Twenty-six."
"But there's only one day left."
Matthew sat down. "I know."
Nicholas sat down too. "How many points does Lauren have?"
"Forty-nine."
"Hey!" said Nicholas. "If you take his points. . . . "
"How'll I do that?"
"Go to the hospital and beg," snickered Nicholas.
"I've got to talk to Lauren alone," said Matthew. Dad nodded. They stood outside Lauren's hospital door. Matthew held a teddy bear with a "Get well!" balloon. He pushed open the door.
"Hey, loser!" smirked Lauren, trying to sit up. His head was shaved, his face ashen. Tubes were attached to one arm. "Can't even beat a sick kid stuck in a hospital."
Matthew stared. After he came out of Lauren's room, Matthew was very quiet. He didn't say anything the whole way home.
On the day the limousine was to take Matthew for pizza, he trudged down the stairs.
"Matthew! Why are you still in your pajamas?" asked Mom.
"Not going," muttered Matthew, walking into the kitchen.
"Not going?"
"Don't have points -- leave me alone."
"What happened?" Mom placed a glass on the counter. Matthew poured some juice and sauntered out.
"Stop right there!" Mom kneeled down and held Matthew by the shoulders. "What happened?"
"Nothing, Mom. I . . . gave them away."
"Gave them away?"
"Are you happy? Can I drink my juice now?"
"No."
"All right. I gave them to Lauren -- he needs a light-up fridge more than me. He's going to be in bed a long time."
"Oh, Matthew!" Mom hugged him.
The doorbell rang. A man in a black tuxedo stood on the doormat.
"Morning, ma'am!" He raised his cap. "I'm here to pick up one Matthew Donahue and deliver him to Xert's Pizza Parlor."
"That's impossible," said Matthew.
"I don't know what you mean, sir. Your classmates are in the limousine waiting for you."
"But -- I'm in my pajamas!"
"If I don't follow orders, I'll be fired," the man said, just as the phone rang.
"That was your teacher," said Mom. "You'd better get going, Matthew Donahue!"
And that's how Matthew came to be riding in a Hummer limo wearing blue space pajamas.
--
This story will be on The Times' website at latimes.com/kids.
