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623 E. 68th St., Apt. 3-D
623 E. 68th St., Apt. 3-D
623 E. 68th St., Apt. 3-D
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623 E. 68th St., Apt. 3-D

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She's back! The kooky redhead and her Cuban bandleader husband have returned to their former address. The years have not been kind to the used to be in love couple; she's let herself go with a vengeance and he's been banished to the YMCA after their latest fight. Their grown son visits his mother and reveals he needs to find a new singer for his band. Guess who wants to get into the act?

LanguageEnglish
PublisherJ. R. Duke
Release dateSep 19, 2017
ISBN9781370564156
623 E. 68th St., Apt. 3-D
Author

J. R. Duke

Much like the narrator of his novel, Doctor Gillespie's Discovery, J. R. Duke lives alone out in the boonies on the big island of Hawaii where life is generally always peaceful and quiet, interrupted only occasionally by volcano eruptions, earthquakes, and hurricanes.

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    Book preview

    623 E. 68th St., Apt. 3-D - J. R. Duke

    623 E. 68 St., Apt. 3-D

    A Reading Play

    By J. R. Duke

    Copyright 2017 J. R. Duke

    Smashwords Edition

    TABLE OF CONTENTS

    Scene 1

    Scene 2

    Scene 3

    Scene 4

    Scene 5

    To

    Lucy and Desi

    From

    A Lifelong Fan

    Lucy: I have an idea!

    Ethel: How can you stand there in the middle of this mess and utter those four horrible words, I have an idea?

    -I Love Lucy episode

    Scene 1

    (Before the play begins there is a musical prologue, none other than the theme to I Love Lucy; but just as it builds to its familiar climax it loses steam, gets slower, becomes off-key, and quickly deteriorates into unrecognizable sour notes, like the slowing down of a record on a turntable; the sound of the player's needle being ripped from the record is heard and then the record being shattered; there is semi-darkness at first, the living room of a vaguely recognizable apartment can be seen in the low-light; a door buzzer starts buzzing, very loud and obnoxious, which should sound familiar; it persists and someone barely visible enters from the left; this person, a woman, hollers and curses at the buzzer/buzzee and when she makes it to the door she turns on a light: it is Lucy and we are in the Ricardo's last apartment, but now many years later; time has taken its toll on the apartment and Lucy, both looking old and worn down; Lucy is now a senior citizen, not aging well to put it mildly: her once henna-red hair is grey, still in the same puffy Lucy hairdo from the past, but frizzy and uncombed/unbrushed; her makeup, which was excessive when she was much younger, is now even more so with exaggerated eyebrows, lipstick, and rouge making her appear clownish; throughout this scene she seems out of it, not just drunk which she probably is, but foggily vague and almost incoherent, as if she's having difficulty struggling to become fully awake; she searches in her tattered robe pockets, finds an empty liquor bottle, tries to take a swig but it's only fumes, then tosses it away and rummages through the couch cushions; she finds another bottle with barely anything in it, takes the last swig, and pauses as the contents does its thing; she wipes off her mouth, tosses this bottle too, and finally goes to answer the door (the buzzing has continued through all this) cussing under her breath all the way; she stops to look at herself in a mirror next to the front door, hollers, and nearly faints from shock at what she sees; she recovers, turns the mirror around, and answers the door; the person standing there is a man in his thirties, Latino and good-looking, strongly resembling Ricky Ricardo at that age.)

    Man: Hi, it's me --

    Lucy: (cuts him off) Not interested. (tries to close the door but he holds it open)

    Man: Wait a minute, Mom.

    Lucy: Mom? That’s a new one. Sorry, not gonna work. I don’t want to buy whatever you're selling, now go away. (tries to close the door again and he holds it open again)

    Man: I'm not selling anything and you are my mom -- don’t you recognize me?

    Lucy: (squints comically while taking a closer look, then shakes her head) Never saw you before in my life. Leave or I'm calling 4-1-1.

    Man: That’s 9-1-1 and you don’t have to call. I'm Little Ricky.

    Lucy: Little who?

    Man: Ricky.

    Lucy: (has to think about this for a second) Ricky? What are you doing back here? I threw you out and told you never to come back and I meant it -- and I still do.

    Man: No, not that Ricky -- Little Ricky, his son. Your son.

    Lucy: (he's starting to get through her drunken haze) Oh, that Little Ricky.

    Little Ricky: Yes, that’s me.

    Lucy: Prove it.

    Little Ricky: Prove it?

    Lucy: Yeah, prove it.

    Little Ricky: How?

    Lucy: A driver's license and a credit card will do it.

    Little Ricky: Mom -- look at me!

    Lucy: (takes another close look) Okay, I guess you are him, or were him, or whatever.

    Little Ricky: May I please come in?

    Lucy: Sure, why not -- you don’t have to ask. You used to live here too, I think. (honestly not sure) Didn’t you?

    (He enters and she closes the door. They go to have a seat on the couch; there is a pack of cigarettes and a lighter on the coffee table in front of the couch; she offers one to him which he declines and she proceeds to light one up and chain-smoke through the rest of the scene.)

    Little Ricky: Of course I lived here, you must be kidding.

    Lucy: Yeah, that’s right, I'm only kidding -- you know me, the big kidder.

    Little Ricky: I've always said I got my sense of humor from you. (takes a closer look at his surroundings) This place still looks the same, sort of, and different too. I guess that’s how it is with memories -- you think you remember how things were, but your mind can play tricks on you.

    Lucy: If you say so. Want a drink?

    Little Ricky: A cup of coffee or tea would be nice, if it's not too much trouble.

    Lucy: I mean a drink. (stares at him in a vapor lock)

    Little Rick: (gets what she means) This early in the

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