Millionaires for the Month

by Stacy McAnulty

  “We get it.” Benji had to concentrate on not rolling his eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to ask us if we would rather have a million dollars now or a penny doubled every day for a month? That’s the riddle math teachers like to give.”

  Laura Friendly tapped a finger on her chin. “What an interesting idea.”

  Benji had not expected her to say that.

  “What if I offered you the scholarship money or a penny doubled every day for thirty days?”

  “We’ll take the penny doubled!” Benji grabbed Felix’s arm and shook it. He couldn’t believe this was happening.

  “But…” Laura Friendly held up her hand. “You have to spend the penny-doubled money—the five million plus—in that same amount of time.”

  “Huh?” Benji didn’t understand.

  Someone knocked on the door.

  “One more minute, please!” Laura Friendly snapped, and the door remained closed.

  Felix swayed on his feet. Benji gestured for him to sit down before he fell over. But Felix shook his head.

  “When I was a child, I stole a Crunch bar from a gas station,” Laura Friendly began, taking a seat on the corner of the desk. “I must have been in fourth or fifth grade. I went inside to use the bathroom while my mother was pumping gas, and on my way out, I swiped the chocolate. I didn’t eat it right away. I waited until we drove off. Of course, my mother knew I stole it, and she turned that car around, tires squealing. I was terrified. I thought she might drive me straight to the police station.”

  “Did she?” Benji asked.

  “Of course not. We went back to the gas station. My mother paid for the Crunch and didn’t even make me apologize. Then she bought the rest of the bars in the box. There were seventeen. When we got back in the car, she told me to eat them. All of them.”

  Laura Friendly shuddered and laughed.

  “At first, it didn’t seem like punishment at all. I ate three with no problems. Then my stomach hurt, and I was thirsty—very, very thirsty. My mother told me to keep eating, and you did not argue with my mother.”

  “Did you throw up all over her car?” Benji was sure he could down ten, but seventeen seemed vomit-inducing.

  “Not all over the car.” She leaned forward and stared at Benji. “I didn’t eat chocolate again for twenty years.”

  He wondered if she had a point.

  “Here’s what’s going to happen now. You can take the scholarship money, and we’re done. Goodbye. Or you can take the five million plus and consume it all in thirty days.” She paused and tapped her finger on her chin again. “And if you can do that, I’ll give you a real prize: ten million each with no strings attached.” She smiled for the first time—a creepy-clown grin that made Benji shiver.

  “Consume?” Benji asked. “You mean we have to eat the money?”

  “No. You need to spend it. All of it. But we’ll need rules. Like no accumulation of assets.”

  “What does that mean?” Benji looked to Felix for an explanation, but the kid didn’t seem capable of talking. Can someone pass out and still remain standing?

  “It’s like you’ve never taken an economics class.” Laura Friendly rubbed the back of her neck. “Let me make it simple. No houses, no yachts, no planes. No stocks or bonds. No jewelry or art.”

  “Okay.” Benji had never purchased jewelry or art in his life.

  There was another knock. This time, the door opened, and Tracey stepped in.

  “Laura, we have to do this now. Your plane is scheduled to leave at—”

  “What’s the point of having a private jet if I can’t adjust the schedule?” Laura Friendly said. “Two more minutes. That’s all we need. Right, gentlemen?”

  “Fine.” Tracey closed the door.

  “So, what’s it going to be?” Laura Friendly asked.

  “We’ll do it!” Benji said. “We’ll take the bet.”

  Felix shook his head, and Benji was ready to strangle him. “I need to talk to my mom first.”

  “No. You can’t tell anyone about the conditions of this challenge. You have to succeed on your own.”

  “Not tell anyone? You sound kinda creepy,” Benji said.

  “Maybe you’re right.” She crossed her arms. “Maybe this is a bad idea. Maybe we shouldn’t—”

  “No!” Benji couldn’t tell if she was bluffing, but he wasn’t willing to take a chance. “It’s a good idea. A great idea. You’re not creepy. You’re brilliant.”

  “So, you accept my challenge?” Laura Friendly stood up and put her glasses back on.

  “We’ll do it!” Benji yelled. “This is going to be awesome.”

  “I need to hear it from both of you.” Laura Friendly stared at Felix while Felix stared at his feet.

  Come on, buddy!

  Felix finally looked up. “Why are you doing this?”

  She shrugged and then smiled again. “Because I can, and it’s going to be tremendously fun to watch.”

  Felix

  Felix couldn’t remember saying yes to Laura Friendly’s offer, but he must have because he could remember Benji bear-hugging him hard enough to crack his back, and Ms. Friendly laughing like a cartoon villain, which made Felix sure they were walking right into her evil trap.

  The rest of the afternoon was a blur. Laura Friendly announced her generous $5,368,709.12 “gift” in front of all the students at Stirling Middle. They screamed in excitement, and the adults sat stunned. Benji did a dance on the stage that would probably become a GIF, and he also spoke to a few reporters. Felix didn’t speak or dance; he focused all his energy on just breathing.

  Now Felix and his mom were sitting in a booth at Red Lobster, where it was easier to breathe, even though the whole place smelled like fish. She’d wanted to go out and celebrate his new fortune.

  A waitress brought over a Coke for Felix and a tall multicolored drink with three pieces of fruit around the rim for his mom. She didn’t usually order fancy cocktails. And they didn’t often go out to eat, especially somewhere nice like Red Lobster. The last time he was here was two years ago, when Georgie graduated from high school.

  “Cheers.” His mom raised her glass. “To my upstanding citizen and to your jackpot. You’re a good kid, Felix. You deserve this.”

  He touched his glass to hers and forced a smile.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “It’s a shock. That’s all.” Felix picked up his menu and studied it like there’d be a test on it later.

  “This money is coming at a good time,” she said. “Our lease is up in December. I’d planned to renew, but maybe we could consider a house.” She smiled and shrugged. They’d never lived in a house before. “We’d have to look into it, but we could probably get the deed in your name. It would be like an investment.”

  He cringed at the word investment.

  “Maybe,” he said. “I don’t know how this all works. I mean…I don’t have any money yet. I can’t even buy this dinner.” Laura Friendly had announced the gift, but she hadn’t written them a check. She’d told them it would take some time to get everything in order.

  “You’re right. We’re getting ahead of ourselves.” His mom closed her menu. “Your poppy had a rule about money that I think we could adopt. He said, ‘Never spend over one hundred dollars without sleeping on it first.’ Good advice, huh?”

  “Guess that means we shouldn’t buy a house today.” He’d never met his poppy, but he appreciated this insight from beyond the grave.

  His mom laughed. “We will definitely have to sleep on it.”

  The waitress returned, and his mom ordered a trio of lobster dishes. Felix got the fried shrimp even though he didn’t have an appetite.

  “No work tonight?” Felix asked. His mother had two jobs: as a nurse’s aide at an old folks’ home (he wasn’t supposed to call it that) and a
s a package sorter at an Express Services warehouse. She liked taking care of people, but handling boxes paid more.

  “I took the rest of the day off. It’s a special occasion when your son becomes a millionaire.” She grabbed a cheddar biscuit and put it on a small plate.

  She hadn’t taken the day off on his birthday last month. Guess that wasn’t a special occasion. But she had made him chocolate-chip waffles and bacon and had left them warming in the oven.

  “I know it’s your money, Felix.” His mom couldn’t stop talking about the millions. “But I think it would be nice if we could help out Georgie and Michelle, too. Maybe with a small loan.”

  “Yeah.” His sister and her fiancée both had jobs, and he knew they were trying to save for a wedding and a house and a new truck.

  Felix felt like the world’s strongest rubber band was squeezing his head. He needed to tell his mom the truth.

  He wasn’t a real millionaire. At least not yet.

  But if he did win, and he did get ten million free and clear, he would buy his mom a house. And one for Georgie and Michelle, too.

  If!

  Tuesday, November 2

  Felix was sitting at the kitchen table, eating off-brand frosted flakes and focusing on the maze on the back of the box, when the TV caught his attention.

  “Tech billionaire Laura Friendly surprised two students at a middle school in Stirling, New York, yesterday,” the woman behind the news desk said.

  “Mom! Come here!” he called. She was still in her bedroom, getting ready for work.

  The image on the screen cut away from the reporter and to the assembly at school.

  “The boys found Friendly’s wallet last week in Central Park and turned it in to the NYPD. As a reward for their efforts, she gave the students—you’re not going to believe this—$5,368,709.12.” A graphic popped up on the TV along with a cha-ching sound effect.

  His mom walked into the living room with her hair still wet from a shower. Felix pointed to the TV, and her mouth dropped open.

  Benji was on the screen. “We just returned the wallet because it was the right thing to do. We never expected anything like this.” Felix-from-yesterday was in the background of the video. He looked ghostly white, and his eyes darted around the room like something was about to attack him.

  “There you are!” His mom pointed.

  “I look like a freak.”

  “No, you’re handsome,” his mom said, because that was what moms were supposed to say.

  The news anchors came back on, showing off their best surprised faces—mouths open and eyes wide, like the emoji.

  “This is national!” his mom shrieked. “People across the country will see this.”

  Do you think Mark is watching? He couldn’t ask the question out loud. His father was not part of their lives, and hadn’t been for years.

  “That’s quite a reward for a returned wallet,” one host said. “When I left my bag in a cab, I only gave the driver a twenty when he returned it. That was a few years ago. Now the going rate seems to be over five million dollars.”

  Both hosts laughed.

  Felix’s mom muted the TV. “You’re a celebrity. I bet you think people will clean up after you now.” She winked at him and snatched a blanket off his bed, which was also their couch. The apartment had only one bedroom, and he slept on the pullout in the living room. His mother called it cozy and easy to clean. He couldn’t argue with that.

  “Sorry, I’ll do it.” Felix got up and began folding the blankets and sheets.

  As he transformed his bed back into a couch, his mom’s cell chimed. It was the only phone they had between the two of them. She answered and then glanced in his direction, smiling.

  “Thank you,” she said multiple times before hanging up. Then she pointed to Felix. “No school today. We’re going to the bank to get your money.”

  Benji

  Someone from Laura Friendly’s office called early that morning and instructed the Porters to meet at First Bank of New York at ten o’clock.

  Things keep getting better, Benji thought. Five million bucks and no school.

  When they arrived, Benji and his parents were escorted to a room with a large wooden table surrounded by leather chairs. Two of the seats were already occupied by guys in suits, who stood as the Porter family entered.

  Benji had hoped to see piles of cash on the table. The largest bill the US Mint made was a hundred-dollar bill—he’d Googled it last night. That would be over fifty thousand bills. If they were all put into one stack, it would be about seventeen feet high. Or they could make seventeen one-foot-tall stacks. (He’d spent a lot of time Googling money.)

  Felix and Ms. Rannells walked in a few minutes later. Felix took a seat without saying anything and immediately stared at his hands in his lap.

  “Good morning, I’m Roger McDowell, Laura Friendly’s personal attorney.” Then he motioned to the other man. “And this is Leonard Trulz, an accountant for this endeavor. We have a lot of paperwork to get through, so let’s begin. The money’s been placed in an account here at the bank in the names of Felix Heathcliff Rannells, Benji Augustine Porter, and Laura Marie Friendly.”

  “Ew, we both have horrible middle names,” Benji said.

  Felix didn’t even pretend to laugh at the comment.

  “Excuse me. Why is she on the account?” Benji’s dad asked.

  “It’s necessary so we can address the tax burden,” the lawyer explained. “It’s a custodial account.”

  “Will we have access to the funds too?” Ms. Rannells asked.

  “No. Only the boys can write electronic checks and use the associated debit cards.”

  “That’s ridiculous. They’re twelve,” Benji’s mom said.

  “Maybe we should have our lawyer present.” Benji’s father shook his head and then pulled out his cell phone.

  “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.” Mr. McDowell clasped his hands and folded them on top of a stack of documents. “This is not a negotiation. It’s a take-it-or-leave-it offer.”

  Benji watched the muscle in his father’s jaw tighten. He was a pretty even-tempered guy, but that slight movement was a clue—he was royally ticked off.

  His dad put down the cell phone. “Continue, please.”

  Papers flew around the table, requiring signatures. Then the boys were issued debit cards—thick black cards with their names printed in silver letters.

  “I assume each of the boys is entitled to half the money. How will that be monitored?” Benji’s mom asked.

  “There is no formal arrangement for dividing the money,” Mr. McDowell answered.

  “Can we set up two separate accounts?” his mom asked.

  “No,” Mr. McDowell replied.

  “Are you kidding me? This is wrong,” Benji’s dad said. When they’d left for the bank, Benji’s dad had been all smiles. Now he looked like he’d been robbed and kicked between the legs.

  “Remember, take it or leave it.” Mr. McDowell sat back in his chair and crossed his arms.

  Benji’s parents didn’t get it. They were not in charge, and they had to let him do this, or they could say goodbye to the money.

  “Proceed,” Benji’s dad replied.

  McDowell pushed another set of papers to the parents. Benji’s dad didn’t even bother to read it before he signed.

  “Thank you very much, Ms. Rannells and Mr. and Mrs. Porter.” The lawyer collected the papers and put them in a folder. “Now we need to speak to Felix and Benji alone for a moment. Laura Friendly has prepared a statement that I must read to them. Once that is taken care of, we’re done, and your sons will be millionaires.”

  Those words did the trick. Smiles returned, and the parents left the room without argument.

  Mr. McDowell let out a noi
sy breath before zeroing his dark eyes on Benji and then Felix. “Boys, you understand you aren’t simply receiving this money without stipulations. Correct?”

  “Yeah,” Benji answered. “It’s a game.”

  “A very expensive game,” Mr. McDowell replied, and it was obvious that he did not approve. He’d probably feel different if he’d been the one invited to play.

  Mr. McDowell slid a packet of papers in front of each boy. Benji picked it up to read, but he couldn’t get past the first few lines. He could read. But his brain got distracted like four different songs were playing at once and he was expected to sing along to only one.

  Thankfully, Mr. McDowell went over the document.

  “The opening paragraph simply states that you have until midnight on December first to spend $5,368,709.12. At that time, if the account balance is zero, you will each receive ten million with no restrictions. Are we clear so far?”

  “Yep,” Benji said.

  Felix nodded.

  “Section two outlines additional rules. Number one says you cannot simply give the money away. Not to people. Not to charities.” The lawyer cleared his throat. “Number two states you cannot buy gifts for others.”

  “Like birthday presents?” Benji asked.

  “Like any presents.” Leonard Trulz finally spoke. He hardly had any hair on the top of his white head but had very bushy eyebrows and a mustache—like three fat gray caterpillars. “You cannot buy things for other people. Not a TV. Not a bouquet of flowers. Not a pair of socks. However, you can take someone out to eat, throw parties, and go to events. If you are sharing the experience, it is permissible.”

  “That leads us to rule three,” Mr. McDowell said. “You must use what you purchase. For example, if you purchase a plane ticket, you must take the trip. If you buy a new suit, you must wear that suit. If you buy a computer, you must use the computer.”

  “Got it.” Benji drew an invisible check mark in the air with his finger.

  Mr. McDowell turned a page of the document. “The fourth rule in section two is the ‘No List.’ Things you cannot buy.”