Mathew's Magic

By SCOTT HARRIS

May 3, 1998 12 AM PT

This is a story about a boy named Josh and a boy named Matt.

They have a lot in common, these boys. Both are 11 years old. Both have a lively wit. And both possess special gifts and extraordinary powers.

Josh Font seems like an ordinary American boy until he mysteriously finds himself in the Land of GinGin, the realm of an evil queen who commands an army of dragons. It is there that Josh discovers he possesses the power of Gin and teams up with a good dragon named Bob and woman warrior named Reena and a few other cohorts to confront the forces of darkness.

Mathew Rudes, however, has never seemed quite ordinary. The day he was born, perplexed doctors counseled his mother that her baby might not live long. A day later, Matt’s condition was diagnosed as a rare and severe affliction caused by a spontaneous genetic mutation that weakens the connective tissue of the human organism. Neonatal Marfan syndrome affects Matt’s heart, bones, spinal column, vision--nearly everything except his mind and, it seems, his spirit.

Josh Font is Matt’s alter ego, the protagonist of a 155-page manuscript he began writing at age 9. The working title is “Monstress Mayhem,” and to read this tale of fantastic adventure is to get a sense of Matt’s precocious powers. Another way is to visit Matt at Porter Middle School in Granada Hills, to chat with him and watch him study and joke with classmates.

He maneuvers his motorized wheelchair around the campus and parks himself at the end of a lunch table. He shares the ambition of so many frustrated authors.

“I want it published!” he declares. “I want it made into a movie!”

Marfan syndrome has given Matt double vision, except for those episodes when it renders him totally blind. He usually sees well enough to enjoy movies from a front-row seat. He’s a fan of novelist and screenwriter Michael Crichton and envisions his book made into a blockbuster starring Mel Gibson, Harrison Ford and Dustin Hoffman. Maybe Sharon Stone would play Reena. And who would play Josh?

“Me,” he says. “I’ve got to make some money here. Magic costs a lot.”

Magic is his latest passion, but it’s easy to understand why school officials don’t want him bringing his dice and cards to campus. But the son of Carol and David Rudes of Northridge doesn’t need props to impress adults with the powers he possesses despite his physical limitations.

Matt doesn’t always use the wheelchair, but if he stands too long or walks too far he feels pain and could easily fall and break a bone. Marfan syndrome has made his bones unusually weak and unusually large; Matt wears size 12 shoes and at 5 feet, 7 inches looms over classmates. In recent months, painful spinal complications have caused periods of paralysis and the inability to speak. These frightening episodes may last minutes or more than an hour before passing.

Matt, meanwhile, has long lived with the understanding that, in a matter of a few days, an aorta could swell like a balloon and burst. Twice he has undergone heart surgery, first at age 4 for an ascending aorta and aortic valve transplant, and again two years ago to replace the transplant with an artificial valve.

This was one of the seven surgeries he has undergone in the last three years. In troubled times, he may be hospitalized for more than a week. In better times, he typically has two or three doctor appointments per week, his mother ferrying him between Childrens Hospital of Los Angeles, Cedars-Sinai Medical Center and the UCLA Medical Center. Physicians study Matt as they treat him because he is one of only a few children who have lived so long with this malady.

It was the down time in hospitals, waiting between appointments, that spurred Matt to write his book. Matt had been writing stories for years; the imagination, his mother explains, is one place where Matt is free of his Marfan syndrome.

A couple of years ago, Matt asked the Starlight Children’s Foundation, a charity known for installing playrooms in hospitals for ailing children, for a laptop computer.

Matt and his mother had become familiar with the foundation’s services. Before his last heart surgery, Carol recalls, they were alone in a hospital hallway when Matt abruptly turned to her.

“Mom,” Matt said. “I’ll say goodbye now because I might not come back.”

His words, she recalls, had her reeling. Then they turned a corner and discovered a Starlight Nintendo Fun Center, a mobile module designed for hospitals. Carol recalls with a laugh how quickly Matt was playing games while she was struggling to regain her composure.

The Starlight Children’s Foundation granted Matt’s wish for a laptop. Soon he was tapping out the legend of Josh Font.

“With fantasy,” Matt explains, “you can run free.”

Matt says he got some ideas from his family. His 21-year-old sister, Susan, was learning sign language--and it is Josh’s sign language skills that translate into a kind of telekinetic power in the Land of GinGin. He named a character Gus because his 15-year-old brother, Michael, likes the name. Some of the parallels between Josh’s adventures and Matt’s life are apparent.

It’s no accident that the heroine is named Reena. Dr. Rena Falk is the geneticist who made the early diagnosis of Matt’s condition and, his mother says, probably saved his life. Falk has monitored Matt’s condition and counseled other physicians ever since.

And just as Josh has a watchful English teacher, Matt has a close relationship with his honors English teacher, Randy Holtzman. She has read his manuscript twice. “There’s so much of his personality in it,” she says, “so many witty statements.”

His personality may explain why he is a popular student with teachers and classmates alike. It was only a few days ago, Holtzman recalls, that Matt had recovered sufficiently from his spinal troubles to return to school after missing several weeks. Class was already in progress when the door opened and Matt wheeled into the room.

His classmates welcomed him back with applause.

It is difficult to begin a 155-page manuscript written by an 11-year-old and, after a few chapters, not skip ahead to the ending. But perhaps it is not giving away too much of the plot to quote from the last chapter, “Back on Earth.”

Having returned from the Land of GinGin, Josh excitedly greets his mother. She, like Carol Rudes, is an artist:

“Mom,” Josh said, running over to the easel. “I just had the most exciting experience. I went into another world. I meet a dragon named Bob, a bunny named Mimack, a porcupine named Gus and a really strong woman named Reena. I fought a girl named Garpin. And I died, and then Bob and the others brought me back to life. It was all real.” Josh’s mom responds by suggesting that maybe they should go see that nice psychologist Dr. Murphree. She worries as Josh, still insisting it wasn’t a dream, suddenly feels very tired.

Josh Font lay back on his bed, rested his head on the pillow, closed his eyes and went to sleep.

And then Mathew Rudes wrote this:

“THE END . . . Or is it?”

Scott Harris’ column appears Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays. Readers may write to him at The Times’ Valley Edition, 20000 Prairie St., Chatsworth, CA 91311, or via e-mail at scott.harris@latimes.com. Please include a phone number.

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Marfan Syndrome

A single abnormal gene is the cause of the syndrome, which affects at least 40,000 people in the U.S. Although the most visible evidence is of the condition is disproportionate growth, the most dangerous effects involve the cardiovascular system. The mitral valve on the left side of the heart can leak, and people with Marfan syndrome can suffer from irregular heart rhythm.

Medical problems associated with Marfan syndrome:

Eyes

* Lens disfocation

* Nearsightedness

Cardiovascular system

* Irregular heart rhythm

* Mitral valve leakeage

* Tears in aorta wall

Skeletal system

* Disproportionate growth

* Abnormally shaped chest

* Loose-jointedness