Free The Gospel According to Larry by Janet Tashjian

this.”
    â€œOh he is,” I said. “Guaranteed.”
    She propped herself up on her elbow. “What do you think he’s like as a person? Some brainwave or just a regular guy?”
    â€œJust another guy in a wizard hat, I’m sure.”
    She took a long look at me, then punched me in the arm. I pulled her closer to me. To use my Larry-ness as a way of having my way with Beth would be so not-Larry. 47
    If I were going to tell Beth about my secret identity, this would be the perfect time. I looked at her cuddled in her sleeping bag and weighed the choices in my mind. YES, NO, YES, NO. YES. NO. YES! Our relationship could reach another level, I’d reach another level in the honesty department. And just like that, I decided to tell her.
    â€œBeth?”
    â€œWait a minute, look.” Three girls from Chicago approached us, handing out lyrics to a song they had written for everyone to sing the next morning.

    After they left, Beth turned to me. “Yes?”
    But the moment had passed. She gave me a squeeze, then lay back to watch the fireworks. She said good night an hour later with a chaste kiss on my cheek. I watched her sleep through the canopy netting.
    Did I blow it? Should I have been more assertive, told her how I felt? I was a guy who diagrammed Rubik’s Cubes for fun but couldn’t dig deep down to that emotional place inside and tell my best friend how I felt about her. I always could do that with Mom, but a person shouldn’t be emotionally honest with only one person his whole life, should he? Shouldn’t the courtesy extend to everyone? My intentions were good, my feelings were real, but I just couldn’t put two and two together. Why don’t they make those colorful magnetic numbers for the heart? That’s where I really needed the help.
    Or maybe I was just practicing restraint? Maybe making love to Beth under a sky of fireworks—of all things—would have been gaudy and anticlimactic. 48 Maybe I had done the right thing after all.

    I barely slept all night. Some wizard I was—more like Mickey Mouse trying to hold back the flood with buckets. Loser.
    I watched the sun rise over the fields of people, then made my way to one of the water stations. A grandmotherly woman dropped her toothbrush in the mud; she seemed ready to cry.
    â€œIt’s much more crowded than I thought it would be,” she said.
    I handed her my toothbrush, still in the box. “Here. My friend brought tons of them; she’s always overprepared.”
    The woman grabbed my hand and thanked me profusely. She wore the same hand lotion my mother had always worn. I held my own hand up to my face and inhaled the familiar scent. Mom, I thought, could you ever in a million years have imagined it? The world is shifting, the consciousness is changing, we’re evolving in the right direction.
    Talk to me, Mom. Tell me what you think. Please.
    And then I waited.
    The woman in front of me took her place at the makeshift sink. She held up the toothbrush like a flag. “Your mother would be so proud of you.”
    This woman brushing her teeth would never know how she’d just made my day.

    SERMON #272
    Critics said it was impossible, but we did it!
    We did it without corporate sponsorship.
    We did it without product endorsement.
    We did it without burning down tents.
    We did it without anger and fights.
    We did it without violating women.
    We did it without people being afraid.
    We did it without cynicism and apathy.
    We did it with idealism.
    We did it with enthusiasm.
    We did it with grassroots efforts.
    We did it with hope.
    We did it with music.
    We did it even though no one thought we could.
    Change the world?
    Did.
    Are.
    Can.

My feet still hadn’t touched the ground when I accessed Larry’s messages.

    DID YOU HAVE FUN AT LARRYFEST?
    DID YOU SEE MY BOOTH?
    I ENDED UP GETTING 4,589 SIGNATURES,
    LARRY. IT’S A REAL MOVEMENT.

    I scrolled down; even