When last we left Jack McKay, the TV news anchor was struggling to understand why he could only speak as if reading a news story. McKay was on his way home, hoping his wife would have some answers.
McKay drove straight home, scrapping plans to stop at the cleaners and pick up his suits and shirts, for fear someone would say hello, or try to engage him in conversation. He tossed aside the idea of stopping to fill up the tank on the leased Mercedes for the same reason.
He pulled into the driveway, and sat there for a moment, debating how to approach this with his wife, Susan. He could text her, or write out an explanation of what was going on. Or maybe he could just blurt out a hello, and see what happened.
He went inside and found Sue in the home office, and stood in the doorway until she looked up from the computer.
“The strong silent type,” she said. “A little different than the talkative anchorman I know, but I’ll adapt.”
When he didn’t respond, Sue’s face broke into a smile. “So, we’re taking the silent type thing quite literally, and a little far, no?”
Still, he said nothing, unsure how best to communicate. He went to the printer on top of a small bookcase, grabbed a blank sheet of paper, and sat down and started writing. When he was done, he handed his wife the piece of paper and motioned for her to read it.
“It’s charades, or you’ve been drinking. Maybe both,” Sue said, before reading it aloud. “I can only speak like I’m on-air reading the news, I think.”
He took the paper back, and added a line.
“Go ahead, ask me something,” she read.
“Sure,” she said. “I’m game.”
She spoke slowly, and in a loud voice like he was hard of hearing. “So…how…was…work…honey?”
He took a breath and gave it a try. “At this hour…Susan McKay is asking her husband, Jack about his day at work. The TV news anchorman responding that the day was fine. That was before, quote — this crazy crap with my voice happened. Up next, we’ll have the latest on Mrs. McKay’s reaction to Jack’s condition.”
Sue’s eyes widened and she said, “Whoa. Is this something the new consultant is recommending? Maybe trying to blend your off-air personality with your on-air persona? I mean, I suppose I could get used to it. It may be a little touch and go when we’re trying to, you know, be romantic. But even that could be interesting. A little third person narration to liven things up.”
Jack spoke, still in his news voice. “McKay went on to say that he didn’t appreciate his wife making fun of his condition. The award-winning anchor said he was a little fearful, and didn’t know what was going on inside his head. He added that he hopes he is not, and I quote — nuts. McKay is looking to rally support for his situation from his wife. He remains optimistic she will eventually be able to help him, and is closely monitoring his wife’s reaction to the statements.”
“Yikes,” Sue said, getting up and coming around from behind the desk. She placed a hand on his forehead and said, “You don’t feel feverish, big guy. But you definitely have something.”
He took the paper and scribbled, “Yes.”
Sue went back behind the desk, took a legal pad and handed it to him. “Maybe we try and limit your talking. I mean, it’s a little spooky. Actually, a lot spooky. Let’s just have you write out things. It seems like you can write like a normal person, right?”
McKay’s shoulders sagged and he looked up at his wife.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Jack,” she said. “I didn’t mean it like that. You are normal. I mean, mostly. You know, except when you talk.”
He smiled, and wrote, “It’s okay. I just have to figure out what’s going on. It’s like I have some sudden mental block that’s stopping me from talking normally.”
“Have you been hit in the head, or anything?” she asked.
He shook his head no.
“Fall?” she asked.
Another shake of his head.
“Hmmm,” she said.
“Maybe I should get an MRI,” he scribbled on the pad.
Sue shrugged and said, “I’m not sure what that’s going to show. You said you haven’t had any blows to the head.”
“Maybe my brain shifted or something, and the lobes got all turned around,” he wrote, and then showed his wife.
“You keep scribbling things like that and I’ll do an MRI right here. I’m sure there’s an app to help me.”
The two of them went back and forth with the notes, trying to hash out what the heck had happened to cause his odd talking. But there was nothing obvious. Jack had gone about his usual routine, driven to work, met with his producers, prepped for his time on-air, and wrapped things up like a normal day.
“What about at work, is there anything new there, besides this consultant lurking around?” Sue asked.
Jack started to write out his response, and Sue got up and subtly, came around the desk and grabbed the pad off his lap as he wrote.
“This just in to the newsroom,” he blurted out. “Susan McKay was seen rudely grabbing the pad from her husband.”
She handed him the pad back and said, “Just checking. I thought maybe if you didn’t have time to think about it we’d get a regular response.”
“McKay says there’s no excuse for such behavior, and hopes his wife will be more sensitive to his situation in the future.”
Jack stood up, scribbled the words, “I’m going to try to take a nap,” on the pad and handed it to his wife.
Then the doorbell rang.
(To be continued…)