SERIES:
PART: 5 of 5
RATING: NC-17 (Adult thematic material, drug content,
violence, adult language)
PAIRING(s): LK/LDF; Past LDF/CR; SF/WM
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CATEGORY: Romance/Drama
FEEDBACK: PLEASE?!
SETTING IN TIMELINE: Alternate post-show canon.
SPOILLER/SUMMARY: Lenny moves to
NOTES: A spin-off of a drabble
started for Bethy’s Fingertips challenge. Conclusion!
***
Lenny wakes the next morning to filtered sunshine and empty
arms. The shock of the emptiness inside
of him at this discovery is indescribable - Lenny forces himself to sit up and
nearly falls out of his small bed on the way to the closet. He changes shirts and heads to the dining
room, dreading what he might find.
But she hasn't disappeared!
Laverne sits behind the kitchenette counter, eating ravenously from a Styrofoam
container. The most delicious aroma
wafts through the air - cinnamon, Lenny recognizes. They regard each other with shyness not
reflective of the chastity of their evening prior.
He walks toward her, into kitchen. "You got any left for me?"
Laverne pushes the container of cinnamon rolls in his
direction. "I went down to the
bakery and got some stuff while you were asleep. Been up for an hour now - I couldn't go back
to sleep." She split her final roll in half and savors each bite, and then
watches him as he begins to eat his own.
"You think he'll really go into treatment?"
"I think so." Lenny tries caginess - his reality
being that he's unsure of Carmine's reaction.
"If you think you got through to him."
Laverne nods.
"For the first time ever he listened to me about the drugs,"
she picks up a handful of pamphlets she's been keeping on the counter. "I got a bunch of these at the free
clinic downtown, and I still got the number for the rehab place in my
pocket. And I don't even gotta worry about the money - Shirl
said she'd be willing to foot the bill."
"Doctor Walter know about
that?"
"Doctor Walter never had a problem with Carmine because
he knows what Carmine means to Shirley."
Lenny nods thoughtfully.
"I dunno if I'd be so nice if it was my
wife."
"You would," Laverne insists. "Just like you're
being nice with me.
"Ain't nothing that any other
good guy wouldn't do."
"You're more than good, Len. You're really sweet, and a swell friend. No one else would put up with me the way you
do."
He finishes his roll and searches for his coat, not wanting
to think about why Laverne was being so nice to him. "It's almost twelve. We gotta start
walking now, if we wanna be on time."
Laverne puts her hand on his wrist. "You gotta
know how great of a guy you are. I know
I treated you real bad for a very long time.
I was stupid to do that."
"Nah, you didn't, Laverne. 'sides, I wasn't so
great to you a lot of the time..."
"I wish I'd been nicer - maybe you wouldn'ta
left. I just...always thought you'd be
around, y'know?
I never thought you'd go."
His smile fades.
"We all got our limits. I
always knew I was gonna leave
"With
"Yeah? When?"
"Right after Sonny left me."
"What?" He
snorts. "Nah! You were happy for a long time after
that. All that stuff was your dream,
living where it's hot, meetin' movie stars. You wanted to marry a big rich
lifeguard. And you kept saying you did
after Sonny left."
"That was a dream, Len.
In the real world, I got a crummy job at a department store and a
boyfriend who wouldn't stop cheating on me.
After we broke up, me and Shirl
had our fun, but when she was left I didn't have nothing. Just an even crummier job, a junkie
boyfriend, and a bunch of sharks who thought I was an easy mark." Her
smile holds its usual winsome mystery.
"
Lenny's heart leaps, but he knows in the back of his mind
that her affection comes from desperation to feel loved. "But you don't need me, Vernie. You never
needed me."
"You're wrong. I
always need you near. I just never knew
I did til you were gone. But now we're together, and
we can start new again." Her smile
is affectionate. "And you're
right," she says, pulling her hand away from his. "We gotta
leave."
***
Lenny knows something bad's
happened when they pass
"What's going on?" She stretches to see over the
teeming crowd. "Did someone start a
fight?"
"I don't know.
Someone's gotta be hurt bad, though." A
door opens. Lenny's hand clenches around
hers. "Oh no..."
Laverne goes into an instant panic and begins to run toward
the tenement’s front stoop. Two
paramedics - one thick-shouldered and dark-skinned, the other skinny with milky
and freckle-dotted skin - are rolling a blanket-covered gurney out of the
building - a body lies visible beneath the covering and two thick, buckled
straps. Laverne nearly knocks Lenny over
to get to the ambulance before the white-shrouded body can be placed in the
vehicle.
"Ma'am, you can't -" but Laverne is already trying
to pull back the tightly-strapped sheet.
She finally finds the corner of the blanket and pulls it down. When the face is revealed, her body went
white. Lenny doesn't have the bravery to
look down at what's displayed his fear of death nearly as overwhelming as his
fear of a loss of a friend. The drain of
the past few days visible in all of her form, Laverne turns toward Lenny and
clasps him tight in her arms.
"I'm sorry," says a blue-uniformed medical attendant
- the freckled one. "Were you a
friend of Mister Cowsington?"
Mister Cowsington. Lenny's
hands involuntarily flex against Laverne's back. He enjoys the briefness of her contact with
guilty pleasure. "No, Sir. We're here to take a friend to
rehab."
"Rehab?" The other
attendant laughs as he covers Mister Cowsington's
face once more. "Buddy, people here
don't go to rehab. They're lifelong
addicts and they always come here to die.
I pull ore bodies out of here every week than I ever did from the
Coconut Grove." Lenny's face has
gone ashen, and the attendant hastens to provide comfort. "But hey, if you're telling the truth,
your friend's a rare case. The trouble
is, even if someone really wants to get clean, they don't always end up
clean. This is a hell of a big city and
it's easy to find what you need, get it?"
Lenny looks the plump-cheeked intern in the face. "Let's just say we're owed some
luck."
The paramedic extends the gurney, rolling it up into the
ambulance. His expression tells Lenny
that he doesn't believe, but perhaps he hopes.
Laverne pulls herself out of his embrace. "That could have been Carmine."
"I know, Vernie," he
pushes her toward the sidewalk.
"Let's go get him."
***
"You sunnuvabitch!"
The hope Laverne had held in her soul, all of the faith she
had carried with her to Boston, dies as she tears into Apartment 5 and saw
Carmine nodding off on the sofa, a needle buried in his left thigh.
Lenny had hoped not to be involved, to be a passive party to
the drama between them, but Laverne's wild shriek caused him to enter the
apartment at her heels. Just in time - she's just flung
herself across Carmine and is pounding on his chest with all of her strength,
letting out the incredible frustration held back for years. Every effort Lenny makes to separate them
proves futile - as emaciated as Laverne is she still proves stronger than him
as she pounds her fists into Carmine's atrophied muscles and shrieks
invective. Carmine's sole response to
this is a grunt. He eventually lists
over and leans belly-down on the couch, the thigh with the needle dangling over
the side of the couch. Lenny redoubles his efforts to separate the two of them
as fear and adrenalin courses through him.
Laverne kicks and screams with the frustrated, useless love inside of
her, unable to staunch the rage flowing through her as she rains blows on
Carmine's inert body.
Lenny sends up a prayer to Saint Jude - somehow, it seems to
work and he finally gains leverage, pulling Laverne up and depositing her on
the floor. Carmine is frighteningly
still - Lenny gropes down the side of the couch for his thin wrist. When he tries to feel for Carmine's pulse his
fingers nearly sink through a rotting, blackened patch flesh on his arm - souvenirs
of unclean needles and untreated needle marks.
Lenny is nauseated by the smell of the infected flesh but bravely moves
his finger down until he finds an atrophied vein. Nothing. He grabs Carmine by the neck, finds an
unmarked pulse point, and feels a thready beat. He goes weak in the knees from relief.
"He's okay!" Lenny calls to Laverne, who has
curled up in a ball among the refuse and is sobbing, pounding her raw knuckles
into the floor. "Get a hold of yourself," he hisses.
The harshness of his voice and the humor of being told to get hold of herself by Lenny Kosnowski brings
Laverne around. As she starts to force
herself to calm, Lenny gets up off of Carmine, pulling him up by the shoulders
into a sitting position. In exhaustion,
Lenny at last sits down beside him on the filthy and hard couch, and scares up
the courage to look into his old friend's face.
What he sees is not familiar.
Carmine grins straight through him, clearly not seeing anything but his
drug - fueled delusions. He isn't dead,
but he's definitely high.
"You bastard," Laverne snarls. She seems exhausted herself.
The tone of her voice breaks through Carmine's high. "What the fuck is your
problem?" His tone is sweetness and
love.
Her eyes are wild.
"My problem is that you're using again, you stupid sunuvabitch! You
promised you'd be clean for me!"
Carmine shrugs.
"It's just a goodbye hit. A coke speedball, not heroin, see?"
"You said you were gonna stay sober! You motherfucker! You stupid sunuvabitch!"
Lenny has never seen Laverne so angry - he's frightened of her at this
point.
"It's just one last ride," Carmine grins, the
manic sheen of the cocaine obvious to Lenny.
"Come one,
let's go - I could walk to
Laverne shakes her head at his pathetic efforts. "No!
I ain't going anywhere with you but rehab!"
"Who invited you?
I can go alone to
"Jesus, Carmine," Lenny
whispers. The dark eyes are
trained on his face.
"Kosnowski!"
He brays. "Where the fuck have you been?"
Lenny knows that Carmine truly hasn't seen him before this
instant. The power of cocaine is that
strong. Beyond his fear of the drug,
it's the sight of Carmine that revolts Lenny - the once-athletic and enthusiastic
young Golden Gloves champ now has translucent skin, unwashed hair grown into a
thinning afro, dull eyes and red-rimmed lids.
He is whisper thin, visibly skeletal beneath his stained white teeshirt
and hole-pocked jeans. This husk did not
match up with the hard-muscled, health-conscious ex-boxer that Lenny had
admired for years.
He finds his voice. "Here."
"
"That ain't funny," Lenny blurts. "This ain't funny at all!"
Carmine's glazed eyes roll about in their socket like a
Kewpie Doll's. "You wanna know a
secret, Len?" he snorts, lurching in Lenny's direction like a Hammer Films
zombie. "My girlfriend, my
beautiful, talented girlfriend - always had the hots
for you."
It makes no sense to Lenny, but he decides to tolerate
Carmine's fantasy. "Shirl?"
"No -" He tosses his head in Laverne's
direction. "Well, why don't you
tell him? How you yelled his name the
last time we fucked," He brushes a hand through his thinning natural. "You see why I'm a smack junkie?"
"Carmine..."
"She acts like I ain't good enough for her - like I gotta be the Prince of Araby to
be her guy - and the whole time she wants to fuck you!" He howls a gale of
laughter.
"Why'd you stop packing?" Lenny asks, getting off
of the sofa and bending down to the bags.
"We gotta hurry up if you wanna get to
the bus on time."
"Yeah, I was thinking about doing that - I'm not going
to rehab. Now I wanna go see
Shirley."
"Are you crazy?" Laverne cries out. "She's a mother! She don't have time
to take care of an addict!"
"Fuck you! You
kept me from Shirley for years! She's
gonna take me back. She'll forgive
me. She always forgave me! I gotta beg her to
take me back, before it's too late.." he
stops. His body becomes stiff and
unresponsive. The glazed eyes fix
straight ahead and into nothing.
"CARMINE!" Laverne
screams. Everything after that cry
happens in slow-motion as, like a melting piece of wax, Carmine sinks onto the
floor.
"Go get help!" Lenny orders, commanding under
pressure, and Laverne is out of the apartment before he can move. Lenny mows through the trash, incautious of
the discarded needles, crawling over to Carmine's side and taking the prone
man's hand. "Stay with me!"
"Why? Don't got Shirl. Wrecked things with
Laverne. Career's gone." He
squeezes Lenny's hand with strength that belies his cadaverous form. "You got Laverne now. You gotta make sure
she's okay, and you got to make her happy..."
Lenny doesn't even care about his prospective relationship
with Laverne anymore. He had to deal with the present,
with being alone at a deathbed. "I
don't got to do that!
That's your job!"
"Her Pop woulda wanted her to
have a nice guy like you. Not a bum
like me." He coughs. "You know what I always wanted? All I ever wanted? To take care of her. To make sure she'd be all right. But all she wanted was you. And she wouldn't let herself realize that
until you were gone." Carmine turns
his head with great effort toward the door and stares at the vacancy Laverne
had left. Lenny swears he sees a fly
crawl into the man's cracked and dry mouth.
"STAY WITH ME!
Carmine! If you die, you ain't
gonna get a chance to take care of Laverne!"
"Not Laverne - Shirl. I oughta take care
of Laverne, too. She's been so damn good
to me during this. Sorry, Len - bright
lights - a lot of bright lights..."
The paramedics burst in, followed quickly by Laverne. Lenny's feels his hand yanked out of
Carmine's weak grasp as the paramedics clustered around. He recognizes the team - the ones who had
just left with Mister Cowsington's body.
"Pulse 50/50 - stabilize him - 50ccs..." the
jargon goes over his head as Lenny
kneels on the floor and watches helplessly as they attended to Carmine's
emaciated buddy. Maybe an hour passes,
maybe a minute - thankfully, Carmine's heartbeat strengthens and his breathing regulate. At last, he’s carried out of the room on a
stretcher.
Lenny finds Laverne in the doorway, trying to not to interfere
with the struggle for Carmine's life. He
holds her as Carmine is wheeled by.
"Damn you!" Laverne blurts as his dark eyes meet hers. When the stretcher is out of sight her eyes well with tears. "You're a manipulative sunuvabitch!"
She whispers.
Lenny's arms are around her.
"You did everything you could do for him."
"What'm I gonna tell Shirl?"
"You'll tell her he OD'd, but he's alive. She needs to know the truth," he rubs
her arms. "They'll make him go to
rehab this way."
"So it's all for the best?" she replies hollowly.
"No. But he's
seen how easy it is to die now. Maybe
he'll get better."
"I gotta follow him..."
She breaks free of Lenny's arms and rushes outside to follow the gurney, but
they have already reached the street and loaded him inside. The ambulance wails away from the scene,
leaving Laverne in the middle of traffic, numb-faced and helpless as Lenny
felt.
"Hey, lady! Move your ass!" A motorist bellows. Laverne jumps to life, getting out of the way
of an expensive-looking sports car.
"Junkie!" he adds, revving past.
Lenny pulls her up onto the sidewalk. "I'll call us a cab to the hospital - my
treat."
"Thank you so much," she whispers.. Her clinginess is
alarming and so unlike her that he feels sickened. "I don't wanna ever let you go."
"It's going to be okay, Laverne." His hand drifts down her back, and she is
unable even to muster a cry of outrage.
"You remember when you and Shirl saved
that immigrant’s life? And you wouldn't
let any of us give him charity?"
She wordlessly nods.
"Carmine's like him.
He don't need our help to make it. He's the clown choosing to wreck his
life. I think we should let him do it,
or let the doctors figure out what to do." Silence passes between them. "Laverne - what Carmine said - he didn't
mean it, did he?"
Her green eyes regard him with deep affection. What she would have said is cut off by the appearance
of a car.
"Darlings! I'm here to rescue you!" Cinnamon honks
the horn of her Hyundai to punctuate each word.
Lenny doesn't release Laverne - and he isn't shocked that
Cinnamon's there to pick them up in full drag composed of the loveliest aqua
sweater and green miniskirt, platinum wig and green eye shadow. "I really didn't need rescuing right
now, Cin."
"You're in the Combat Zone in the middle of the
afternoon. You should need a whole fleet
of sailors, but you'll have to settle for
Laverne wipes her nose against the back of her hand. "We need to go to Mass General."
"Are you sick, honey?" Cinnamon asks, as Lenny
climbs into the backseat.
"It's an emergency.
Carmine's sick..."
Without words, Cinnamon's features turn sharp. "I'll get you there before you can
scream."
"Scream?" Laverne wonders, climbing in. "Why would I wanna scream?"
"You ain't seen Cinnamon drive yet," Lenny
laughs.
The gunning motor quickly punctuates his words. Laverne retains her breakfast, but none of
her nails.
***
Four Months Later:
A plumper and infinitely healthier Laverne DeFazio sat
perched on Lenny Kosnowski's sofa watching him intently. "You don't think I should go?"
"Nope."
She regarded the invitation she'd received. "You don't think Carmine'll
miss me?"
"With Shirl
there? Nah." He placed a plate of grilled cheese between
them.
"Don't put that there, Len - the grease'll
go down into the sofa."
Lenny grinned. The
old, assertive Laverne had returned weeks ago, with her opinions and her common
sense intact. Unfortunately, so had
returned her old fear of commitment - which was why they had agreed to date,
but take it slowly. They both knew of
the transitory nature of life but didn't want to rush on heedlessly.
Shockingly, heedless described Shirley Meeney
very well lately. Neither of them
completely approved of Shirley's leaving Walter for Carmine, but now that their
friend was three months clean he seemed to be overjoyed by their relationship. He also acted as a decent father figure to
Shirley's young son, Walter Junior. All
of this had been learned from frequent letters and calls from Rhonda Lee
Squiggman, as Laverne hadn’t' spoken to her best friend since she'd moved in
with Carmine a week after he left the halfway house. Laverne's own break-up with Carmine had been
a relief, but it didn't change the way she felt about him. Now the soon-to-be Ragusas
were living back in
"So you think I should look for a place
here?" It was a try at
flirting. She was desperately trying to
learn how to be young and carefree again, and he didn't mind being the receptor
of her affection.
"Well, we gotta
think..."
A minxish look. "You think?"
He sighed elaborately.
"Laveerne..."
"Okay - I admit nothing's waiting for me in
He and Cinnamon hadn't minded - especially Cinnamon, who
finally had someone else willing to lip-synch to Lesley Gore records. "I didn't think you would. I'm just saying you can stay as long as you
need."
"What about Cinnamon?"
"She won't mind.
If she don't mind me, she won't mind
anything."
She smiled, but it wavered.
"It feels like I'm dropping my problems on Shirl. Like I'm abandoning
Carmine." She couldn't admit
to him that some small part of her still loved him. It was a part getting quieter and
quieter. Laverne DeFazio was no glutton
for punishment, no hopelessly devoted woman, and she knew she never again
wanted to risk her heart on another round with Carmine Ragusa.
He hugged her. "Hey, no waterworks.
You got a right to be happy after all the shit he put you through."
"You sure Cinnamon don't
mind?"
Lenny shook his head.
"Okay - I guess you still got another roommate. Mind if I call Shirl
and decline? It'll be short."
"Nah."
She picked up the phone and he made himself absent, going to
his room, finding his guitar. He had
another ream of sheet music to practice, and Laverne was his best ear. They would go out to the courtyard and be
together for the evening. Darnell
wouldn't know what hit him Saturday night.
But he found himself looking at the picture again. It was the same as it ever was - a source of
comfort to someone who had always felt lonely.
And yet when he looked into the even-then distant eyes of Carmine Ragusa he felt his betrayal of Laverne again. He picked up the picture, deciding to spread the
comfort to Laverne.
"I'm sorry Shirl - no, don't
cry. No, I'm not mad at you. This is all for the best. Sure, I'll see you if you come up, alone -
no, I'm not mad at Carmine. It's just
not a good place for me to be right now..." When he held the picture
underneath her eyes, a magic began there, glowing, the sort he had never seen
before. His heart seemed to stop
beating. He gestured that he was going
outside, and she nodded. She turned back
to the phone. "No, Shirl, I'll send you something nice - a piece for your
silver service..." Seeing the past
seemed to remind her that the present was worth experiencing, even in all of
its tumult. It was the same for him. Maybe he had never been as lonely as he had
imagined himself to be.
Lenny left the picture in her hand, watching her stare,
listening in on the conversation as he made for the door. "Yeah, Shirl -
I know. It's a real shame, but it
couldn't be helped. Oh, Squig isn't coming?
He mixed up the date? Well, he
was always so irresponsible..."
In the doorway, Lenny found an envelope, dingy but readable,
wedged between the door and its jam. He
opened the flap addressed from
Inside were over a thousand dollars, and a note. It read:
For Laverne and Lenny,
who brought me home again. I'll never forget you. Carmine.