Read Larry and the Meaning of Life Online
Authors: Janet Tashjian
Larry and the Meaning of Life (13 page)
I woke up half an hour later to the sound of Gus's voice. He wore camouflage cutoffs and a sleeveless fleece vest with no shirt underneath. A smudge of leftover gold paint remained on his neck like a neon hickey. He leaned back on the earth beside me.
“I'm hitting the road,” he said. “But I wanted to say goodbye.”
I asked him why he was leaving.
“I'm a nomadâI no mad at you, you no mad at me.”
I had to smile at the lameness of the joke. I asked him where he was going and what would happen to his disciples. He told me he had no planned destination and his students were ready to practice without him. When I sat up to talk, I noticed a large group of people at the opposite end of the pond, probably the peace activists preparing for their midnight vigil.
Gus propped himself up on one elbow and wondered if there was anything I wanted to ask him. Here was a chance to finally make the inconclusive results of the DNA test conclusive. But I first chose to ask about something more pressing. “Were there ever any land mines?”
He shook his head and laughed. “Were you looking in my truck? Those weren't land mines.”
The wave of relief I felt was physical.
“You must've been worried out of your mind,” he said.
“Petrified.”
He laughed again. “No, those were bombs. They look like land mines, but different results, believe me.”
“Did you say
bombs
?”
bombs
?”
“Your pal betagold was chomping at the bit for this assignment. You'd think with a new kidney she'd be eager for a few more years of life, but when she makes up her mind, watch out.”
I begged him to explain.
“She wants to sacrifice herself for a worthy cause.”
“What worthy cause? Is this part of that game Janine was talking about? Are you putting me on? Tell me!”
“Betagold has really embraced the dark side. I gotta say, she's one of my most committed students.”
My kidney was giving betagold the strength to kill innocent people? What happened to enjoying another few years with her grandchildren? I tried to piece together the disparate scraps of information, but one thing didn't make sense. “The Pentagon canceled. What's the point?”
Gus looked confused. “Those guys from the Defense Department? What do they have to do with anything?”
“Weren't they your targets?”
A huge grin spread across his face. “That's so
obvious
! If you want to put the fun back in fundamentalism, you've got to do something people aren't expecting.”
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obvious
! If you want to put the fun back in fundamentalism, you've got to do something people aren't expecting.”
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What had I missed? I asked him again who the target was.
He nodded toward the group on the other side of the pond. “You know who I hate more than those thieves at the Pentagon? Activists who are so disorganized the best they can do is hold up candles and hope for peace. Activism used to mean bringing a government to its kneesâstanding for hours in the rain, walking to work for months rather than breaking a bus boycott, chaining yourself to a tank. People today think they're doing something by complaining to their friends about how much things suck. It makes me sick. We stopped a war during my lifetime. Now the government runs rampant over our civil rights, and no one wants to get off the couch except to hold a candle.” He waved his arm across the pond as if he were a magician. “As soon as it turns midnight, betagold and your new kidney are blowing those do-gooders into a thousand picket signâholding pieces.”
This had to be a joke. What kind of twisted mind blows up people praying for peace? But when I looked over at Gus, he made Conrad's Kurtz seem like Little Bo Peep. Between the glow of the moon and his wicked eyes, he appeared to be the devil himself.
“The beautiful thing is when they investigate afterward, your DNA is all over the diagrams and detonators,” Gus said. “I saved enough of your blood sample to splatter on the evidence and pin tonight's terrorism on you. You were trying to get my DNA, but I got yoursâdifferent reasons, of course. And after your tête-à -tête with the FBI, it sounds like they'll be eager to buy my manufactured version of reality.” He put his arm on my shoulder. “Goodbye, son. May the forest be with you.”
I shoved him off me and sprinted down the hill.
Running along a narrow path through the woods at night is tricky, even with a full moon. I fell several times, once on my side, which had me clutching my solitary kidney in pain. I wished the pond were frozen so I could run across the ice to save time. It wasn't fear of the FBI or Gus's betrayal that propelled me forward but a passionate sense of purpose I hadn't felt in a long time. Sure, I'd made sacrificesâI'd given betagold enough life energy to let her implement her terrorist beliefsâbut this was something else. Gus's violent plans were screwing with
my
world, and that was a whole different thing. Let the old guy wax nostalgic all he wanted, but messing with the future of my universe was not okay. As jumbled and confusing as these past months had been, I now realized I couldn't give up the struggle to make the world a better place. There was no one else to do it. Not because I was specialâwe were all equal to the taskâbut because I
wanted
to. The world was full of all this breathing, all these pumping hearts, all these ideas, all this
life.
It was time for people who chose not to positively contribute to get out of the way and let the rest of us give it a go.
my
world, and that was a whole different thing. Let the old guy wax nostalgic all he wanted, but messing with the future of my universe was not okay. As jumbled and confusing as these past months had been, I now realized I couldn't give up the struggle to make the world a better place. There was no one else to do it. Not because I was specialâwe were all equal to the taskâbut because I
wanted
to. The world was full of all this breathing, all these pumping hearts, all these ideas, all this
life.
It was time for people who chose not to positively contribute to get out of the way and let the rest of us give it a go.
I'd always had more questions than answers, and asking why seemed a giant waste of time. As okay as it was to accept
reality, it was also perfectly right to try and change it. And that's what I was doing. I needed to stop waiting to be fixed; all I could do was start where I was. I was human and flawed. For the first time in my life, I felt like I actually belonged. Sitting and waiting around for burned-out adults like Gus to solve the world's problems seemed a surefire formula for failure. I ran through the darkness like a leopard chasing prey, picking up speed with every step.
reality, it was also perfectly right to try and change it. And that's what I was doing. I needed to stop waiting to be fixed; all I could do was start where I was. I was human and flawed. For the first time in my life, I felt like I actually belonged. Sitting and waiting around for burned-out adults like Gus to solve the world's problems seemed a surefire formula for failure. I ran through the darkness like a leopard chasing prey, picking up speed with every step.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the two giant koi reflected by the full moon. I hadn't seen them in several weeks, but as I ran by, their orange-and-white blur gave me hope. If they represented liberation, maybe I was finally free.
As I reached the edge of the clearing, I knocked over a man in a tie-dyed parka. I helped him up and asked him if he'd seen a grandmotherly type in a heavy vest.
“Are the Grannies for Peace here? I love them!”
I tried to place the man's face but couldn't. I gave up and ran from person to person in search of betagold. The moon, candles, music, and dancing combined to make the setting seem like a surrealist's dream. I wondered if I'd really just had a conversation with Gus or if I was still sleeping in my down bag on the other side of the pond. I actually looked across the water to see if my body was still there. I put my hands on my knees and caught my breath. Maybe this was an innocent group of people supporting peace and Gus was screwing with me again. But just as I considered abandoning the whole project, I realized where I'd seen the man with the parkaâhe was one of the agents from the FBI. Was it typical for federal agents to attend midnight peace rallies? Was he some kind of
spy? If the FBI didn't believe me, why were they here now? I tore through the crowd to find him, and as I did, more and more people looked familiar. One man resembled one of the cops who'd arrested me. My perception of what was real and what wasn't totally blew apart. Was this all taking place in my mind? Was I having an official nervous breakdown?
spy? If the FBI didn't believe me, why were they here now? I tore through the crowd to find him, and as I did, more and more people looked familiar. One man resembled one of the cops who'd arrested me. My perception of what was real and what wasn't totally blew apart. Was this all taking place in my mind? Was I having an official nervous breakdown?
Just as I was ready to fall down the well-known rabbit hole, I spotted betagold. She wore her black beret and camouflage tracksuit with a backpack strapped to her chest the way some people carry babies. She was walking straight into the center of the protestors.
“Stop!” I yelled. “Somebody grab her!”
It must've been close to midnight because the group started counting down. “Ten, nine, eight ⦔
“Somebody stop that woman!”
“ ⦠seven, six, five ⦔
There were probably fifty people there, even a few small children. I didn't think twice about what I had to do. It wasn't my own life that flashed before my eyes as I raced to betagold; it was Gandhi's. I remembered an anecdote of a reporter running beside Gandhi's train to ask for a message to take back to his people. It was Gandhi's day of silence, so he scrawled a reply and handed the man a note. “My life is my message.” That was what I thought of as I tried to save the others from betagold's bombânot of Peter, Beth, Janine, or even joining my mom in the afterlifeâjust a poignant anecdote about someone else's time on this earth. But I guess if you have to have someone's life flash before your eyes, Gandhi's isn't a bad choice. In the seconds of slowed-down time, I realized my
life, too, was my message. I thought of the Thoreau quote, “If I am not I, who will be?” I finally understood the meaning of my lifeâto fully embrace being
me
âbut unfortunately that life was now over. The irony made me laugh out loud as I threw myself on top of betagold.
life, too, was my message. I thought of the Thoreau quote, “If I am not I, who will be?” I finally understood the meaning of my lifeâto fully embrace being
me
âbut unfortunately that life was now over. The irony made me laugh out loud as I threw myself on top of betagold.
“ ⦠four, three, two, one ⦔
The explosion was deafening.
When Robert Oppenheimer described his reaction to seeing the first atomic bomb he'd developed light up the sky, he quoted from the Hindu scripture, the Bhagavad Gita.
114
“Now I am become death, the destroyer of worlds.” But there wasn't a mushroom cloud at Walden that night; the sky was ablaze in red and green. I wasn't dead but very much alive, underneath a giant fireworks display. Several people shouted “Happy New Year!”
114
“Now I am become death, the destroyer of worlds.” But there wasn't a mushroom cloud at Walden that night; the sky was ablaze in red and green. I wasn't dead but very much alive, underneath a giant fireworks display. Several people shouted “Happy New Year!”
“Would you mind getting off me?” betagold asked. “You're hurting my leg.”
I slowly rolled off her, still unsure about what was going on. “But I thought ⦔ I pointed to the pack strapped across her chest.
She unzipped the bag, took out a bottle of champagne, and handed it to me with a smile. With the fireworks, the whole scene still appeared dreamlikeâevery person seemed familiar in some vague way. I felt as if several switches in my brain had been flipped.
Katie jumped me from behind. “So, what do you think?”
I asked her what she was talking about.
She didn't answer, just kissed me on the cheek and grabbed the bottle of champagne. “I'll e-mail you the photos of you digging for land mines. The earnest look on your face is priceless!”
Mike tackled me and apologized for being such a jerk. “I was just following the script, dude. No hard feelings?”
“Just tell me where Gus is.”
Mike pointed down toward the pond.
On my way to find our leader, I ran smack into Janine. She wore a sequined dress, Cleopatra eyeliner, and platform shoes. It was the first time she'd worn “normal” Janine clothes since she'd been here.
“When you confessed to being part of Gus's plan the other morning, was that part of the game too?” I asked.
“Everything was scripted,” she said. “There were very few improvisations.”
I felt something rub against my leg and looked down to find Brady, head and all. I nearly fell to the ground in relief. “YOU PRETENDED YOUR DOG WAS DEAD?”
“It was incredibly hard, believe me. I actually had nightmares. Every time you showed up at Victopia unannounced, you thought I was with Gus, but I was hiding Brady.”
“What are you, a Method actor? What about his ashes?”
“I took them from your fireplace.” Janine gave betagold a high-five when she approached.
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“Tracy did a really great job too, don't you think?” Janine asked.
“I used to do community theater years ago,” betagold added. “This was so much fun.” She gave me a playful nudge. “Screwing around with your head was just an added benefit.”
“WHAT ABOUT MY KIDNEY?” I said. “I wish someone had let me in on the joke before I went under the knife.”
Janine covered her mouth and laughed. “About that kidneyâ”
“What?”
She and betagold exchanged glances.
“You don't mean ⦔ I reached underneath my shirt. “I have a scar to prove it.”
“The guy who designed your scar apprenticed with the makeup whiz who did
The Nutty Professor
,” Janine said.
The Nutty Professor
,” Janine said.
Betagold joined in Janine's laughter.
I pointed to the space separating betagold and me. “So there was no ⦔
Janine continued to laugh.
“There's no way Mass General was in on this,” I said.
“That's a funny story,” Janine said. “You'll have to ask the puppetmaster about it.”
“So the pains, the recoveryâthat was all in my head?”
“You never had more than that Valium,” Janine answered. “In a real organ donation, you would've had to undergo more rigorous screenings.”
“I've got to give you credit,” betagold said. “I would've let you die before I gave up anything that valuable to you. You really surprised me with your generosity.”
I didn't have my kidney removed?
I borrowed Janine's cell and called Beth. Between the party noises here and in Providence, I could barely make out a word she said.
I borrowed Janine's cell and called Beth. Between the party noises here and in Providence, I could barely make out a word she said.
“Gus has been twisting and manipulating my life all along.”
Beth laughed until I told her about Brady and the fake transplant.
116
“You could sue him!” she said. “I've never heard of such a violation!”
116
“You could sue him!” she said. “I've never heard of such a violation!”
She told me she'd find a quiet place to talk and to call her back. On my way to a calmer place on the hill, I finally spotted Gus. He was talking to two young women in togas and ski jackets. It took a few moments to recall where I'd seen themâthe makeup department at Bloomingdale's.
So my mother never told me to study with Gus? She still hadn't spoken to me? Could the news get any worse?
As I approached Gus, I noticed other people out of contextâthe guy with the videocamera, Peter's ex-wife Katherine, and Marlene from Bloomingdale's. How wide had Gus cast his net for this little game?
Gus wore a Viking hat with two large horns and was blowing into a noisemaker. As he excused himself from the girls, I held myself back from punching him in the gut.
“So the dog was a lie, the transplant was a lieâwhat else?”
He shrugged. “The arrest with the park rangers, getting rejected from Princeton, the land mines, the FBI agents, selling the paint-by-numbers on eBay.” He blew the noisemaker into my face. “Everything was a lie. I told you the first day we met
that life was a game.” He reached into his pocket and handed me a pawnâa perfect metaphor for how I felt.
that life was a game.” He reached into his pocket and handed me a pawnâa perfect metaphor for how I felt.
I forced myself to ask the next question. “What about the inconclusive results on the DNA test? If there's any bit of truth I can squeeze out of you, can you at least be honest about that?”
He tucked the noisemaker into the pocket of his overalls. “I'm not your father,” Gus said. “But I'd be proud if I were.” He reached out to hug me, but I turned away.
“You've been jerking me around for months,” I said.
“Are you any more awake?”
Although the scene around me seemed like a carnival taking place in my unconscious, I had to admit I did feel more alive. I reluctantly congratulated Gus on his meticulous orchestration.
Gus looked confused. “Me? I'm just another actor. I was told to show up, and I did.”
“What are you talking about? Then who ⦔
He pointed a few yards away to someone wearing a pointy wizard hat and a long purple cloak. I moved through the crowd until I was right behind the small group. The hat looked like one I'd owned years ago; I recognized the crooked moons and stars. I spun the wizard around, eager to see the person who'd manipulated every facet of my life for the past two months.
“I thought you were going to call me back.” Beth held up the cell phone buried in her giant sleeve. She gave me a huge kiss. “Happy New Year, Josh.”
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