Let Me Whisper in Your Ear by Mary Jane Clark

Yearender all morning and a good part of the afternoon. She screened three cartons of videotapes looking for just the right two seconds of pictures to capture the essence of her dead subjects. By four o’clock, she was eager to go down to the Evening Headlines studio for her taping session with Eliza Blake.
    As many news staffers as possible tried to take Christmas week off. Laura, with the exception of Christmas Day, would work through the week, finishing her Yearender. Eliza Blake was taking some vacation, but before she left, KEY News wanted to be prepared for contingencies.
    When Laura arrived in the studio, Eliza was already at the anchor desk going over her copy. She smiled at Laura as the younger woman approached.
    â€œI feel creepy doing this the day before Christmas Eve,” Eliza remarked.
    Laura nodded. “Me, too. But you know how it works. If we’re prepared, then he won’t die. It’s only if we’re not ready—that’s when he’ll be sure to go.”
    â€œI guess that’s one way of looking at it.” Eliza shrugged. “I wonder if they know we do this.”
    â€œFrom what I hear, he’s in no condition to know much of what’s going on,” Laura answered.
    â€œOkay. I’m ready when you are.”
    Laura crossed the studio to the director’s booth, leaving Eliza to give an audio level. “Mike check, one, two, three.”
    â€œSounds good,” confirmed director J. P. Crawford, as Laura took a seat in the control booth behind him. Crawford counted down, “Eliza Blake, ‘Special Report Kevin Kane,’ in three, two, one. Cue Eliza.”
    Laura watched on the television monitor as Eliza looked directly into the camera and read the words on the TelePrompter. “This is a KEY News Special Report. Former President Kevin Robert Kane died today at his ranch outside of Tucson, Arizona. He was seventy-three years old. The former president had been fighting a battle against cancer for the last year.
    â€œPresident Kane’s body will lie in state at the Capitol Rotunda and he will be buried on the grounds of the Kevin R. Kane Presidential Library in Tucson.
    â€œWe will have more details on the death of President Kane on tonight’s Evening Headlines. Repeating, former President Kevin Kane is dead at age seventy-three.”
    â€œLet’s stop and check,” directed Crawford.
    Laura and the control room staff watched as the tape of Eliza played back on a half-dozen screens across the control room wall.
    â€œYou happy?” Crawford asked.
    â€œFine,” replied Laura.
    Now, if the former president did die over the next ten days, as he very well could, his demise would be reported on the KEY Television Network, as it should be, by the Evening Headlines anchor—even if she was two hundred miles away from the Broadcast Center, vacationing with her daughter in Rhode Island.
    Eliza Blake unclipped her microphone.
    â€œDoesn’t doing these obits all the time get to you?” she asked.
    Laura shrugged. “Not really. In fact, I kind of enjoy them. The fact that the person warrants a network obituary means that he or she has led an extraordinary life. I enjoy doing the research. I always learn things I didn’t know.”
    Eliza nodded. “Any common thread?”
    Laura stopped to consider the question.
    â€œYes,” she answered. “Without exception, each subject I’ve done has had very difficult periods in his or her life. Each has dealt with tough times and gotten through, persevered and, most often, prevailed.”
    Eliza smiled brightly. “I like that. And on that upbeat note—I wish you happy holidays and I’m off with Janie to visit my parents for Christmas. What are your plans, Laura? You aren’t working, I hope.”
    â€œNo, thank God. I have Christmas off this year. I’m going out to New Jersey to spend the day with my father.”

16
    Christmas