Wanderers
By Shotzette

Carmine emptied the contents of the metal dustpan into the trash can as he surveyed his handiwork. The small dingy apartment was at least clean now, but still not welcoming. There was an aching emptiness to the bare room that made him nostalgic for the disgusting, yet definitely lived in, pigsty that Lenny and Squiggy had shared all those years ago. Nothing says home like a two week old grilled lard and lettuce sandwich under a pile of boxes.

After spending a week back in Milwaukee, he still felt he was no closer to Squiggy than he had been when the former was still in California and he was back in New York. Squiggy was almost polite, a scary concept at best--but he kept to himself. The only moments when he was what passed as normal for him were his infrequent phone calls from Lenny.

Carmine shook his head ruefully, and wondered if Lenny had any idea how much of an impact his leaving would have had on his best friend. Then again, Lenny wasn't known for having ideas. Until recently, he mused, Lenny wasn't known for having a girlfriend either. What could have happened in the six short months that he had left California for New York that made Laverne DeFazio end up in Lenny Kosnowski's bed? He knew she'd taken Shirley's leaving hard, and even before that, she'd seemed to be struggling to fit in and make a new life on the west coast.

Hell, he thought, the transition hadn't been easy for any of them. California had seemed a dream come true--at first. The seduction of the golden sunshine and glamour had been all consuming. They all had thought they were going on to brighter, shinier lives. All they had seen was the potential of the entertainment business, but it wasn't too long before they saw the hunger, the competition. By the time he left L.A., the industry had seemed like a monster that chewed up and spit out dreams. His included, he admitted, begrudgingly. Then again, New York wasn't that much different. It was just like Hollywood, but without the smiling.

A knock on the door interrupted his pity party. The person on the other side of the door nearly made him drop the dustpan in surprise.

Rhonda Lee stood in the doorway, looking taller, brighter, and a hell of a lot angrier than he'd ever seen her look in Burbank. Her dark and cosmetically enhanced eyes swept over the room contemptuosly. "You have got to be kidding Rhonda. You left New York to come back HERE?"

"Good to see you too," was his dry reply. His initial instinct to grab her in a fierce hug was quelled by the ice in her voice and the rigidity in her stance.

"Rhonda thought your roommate was joking when he said you quit your show to come back to Wisconsin. It looks like the joke was on Rhonda."

"Steve actually read my note? I'm shocked. I didn't know he could read and I actually thought about drawing a little cartoon figure of me hopping on a plane..."

Rhonda favored him with a withering look. "Stop it. This isn't funny. You walked out on a job--a good job. What were you thinking? Don't you know that the theatre community is a small industry? You're not at a point in your career where you can afford to get a reputation for being an unreliable prima donna."

Despite himself, Carmine smiled. Poodle exterior not withstanding, Rhonda had one of the keenest business minds he'd ever encountered. When had told her he was moving to New York, she'd solemly sat him down and run down a listing of ten things to look for in a booking agent. Number eleven of course was that there would be no resemblence in any way, shape or form to the Squignowski Talent Agency of Burbank. She'd then advised him on the differences and similiarities between SAG and Equity, and the fastest ways to get into both unions.

"My understudy is playing my part."

"Your understudy is stealing your part, Carmine," she replied as she rolled her eyes in apparent exasperation. "That's how these things happen."

"Squiggy needed me."

"Really? He called and asked you to throw away all you've worked for to come back to this godforsaken town and hold his hand? No, Rhonda didn't think so," she added, when he could no longer meet her eyes.

"You don't understand."

"You've got that right. I don't know how people who make such a big deal about being friends just leave each other with out any notice."

The sharpness in her words hit a nerve. "I said good bye to you when I went to New York."

"Yes, you said good bye. But you were the only one. Shirley left with only a note. Laverne, Lenny, and Squiggy didn't even do that." Rhonda's lower lip quivered as she removed her ski jacket and seemed to look around for a clean place to put it.

"Gee, Rhonda. I'm surprised you care. You didn't seem to care that much about Lenny and Squiggy when they lived in the same building as you did."

"Rhonda got used to them," she said a little defensivley. "The building is just a little too quiet and normal since you all left."

He snorted derisevely. "You came all the way here from Burbank to tell me that?"

"Hardly. Rhonda is on vacation--a much overdue vacation."

"You're vacationing. In Milwaukee. Riiight..."

"Rhonda has always wanted to see the midwest," she sniffed.

"And now that you've seen it?" he prodded.

"Rhonda is ready to hop on the next Greyhound bus and go back to civilization."

"Make sure you pick up a souvenieir beer mug at the bus station, so you'll never forget Milwaukee," he quipped, instantly feeling sorry for his flippant remark. "I'm sorry, Rhonda. I didn't mean to snap your head off. It's just, things aren't right, y'know?"

"When did it become your job to make them right?"

He squirmed under the intensity of her dark gaze. "I dunno. Always, I guess. I've been helping out the girls ever since I can remember."

"Yes, you have. When was the last time they helped you out?"

"It ain't like that! They've come to my rescue a bunch of times."

"When was the last time you came to your rescue?

"I don't get it."

"Don't you? You always put other people's needs ahead of your own, Carmine. You sold your dance studio to move to California to be with Shirley. You left a good job in New York to babysit Squiggy. Rhonda is starting to see a pattern here. You're afraid of success."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"For your information, I couldn't wait to get out of Milwaukee. Running a dance studio or boxing are the only two things I could do here. Shirley moving to California was one of the best things that ever happened to me."

"Then she met Walter," Rhonda said flatly, as she watched him intently.

"Yes. She met Walter." It was funny that saying it didn't hurt anymore. "I ain't mad about that, though. Me and Shirley, we'd had our time. Part of me will always love her, but we'd become habit more than anything."

"But you moved across the country to be with her?"

He shook his head. "I used to think that, Rhonda. I moved across the country because I was alone when they all left. I knew a lot of people here, but I only had a few real friends. The month that I stayed here after everybody else moved was the longest month of my life." He looked up sharply at the sound her her exhaled breath.

"That's the real reason you left New York, wasn't it? Loneliness?"

"Yes. No. I'm not sure. I mean, I love to dance. I've got a great gig going in "Hello, Dolly!", but..."

"You're lonely."

"Yeah." He shook his head, ruefully, "You wouldn't understand."

"I do. Do you think it's any different back in Burbank with all of you gone?"

"But you know so many people..."

"Acquaintances."

"But you're career..."

"Nothing big has happened months..."

"Then why did you..."

"I missed you," she said as he felt himself being smothered by the angora and Chanel No. 5 of her embrace. As he hugged her back, he couldn't help realizing that she was no longer speaking in her affected third-party style, and he began to wonder if she had meant "you" in the plural or the singular. He then wondered at himself for wondering.

FIN



To "From Me To You"
To "Right Beside You"