That night she had a dream. In her dream she was a tiny little elephant, but she was without a trunk. She had four legs and thick grey skin, big flapping ears and a thin end-tassled tail. But she had no nose. Because she had no nose she couldnt pick things up to eat, to wash, to have fun all these things were now impossible. It was like being without arms. She kept asking for help. Her mother smiled and stroked her, but everyone else just laughed and pointed.
She slept late. When she awoke she felt battered and exhausted. When she looked into the mirror, her old face looked back at her. Nothing had changed. She felt utterly helpless. Her mind rambled and a thousand different images moved through the space behind her eyes. Her head was full of colour. She saw different people too, pointing their fingers, wiping her nose, holding her arm, bouncing her up and down on their knee, up and down, up and down.
In the kitchen she looked for a small knife to cut the top off her boiled egg. Instead she found that she had a chopping knife in her hand and it was as long as her arm. She cut the egg in half and its yolk hit the wall. She placed the blade near to her nose and felt tempted to move it closer. She stopped. For hours she remained stationary.
Larry had forgotten his sandwiches. He drove home in his lunch hour and let himself into the quiet house. He went upstairs for a quick pee. For once he neglected to shut and lock the door. He whistled contentedly.
Downstairs in the kitchen Laylas mind started to turn again. She considered her options.
A Necessary Truth
Sammy Jo burped the baby and then lay her down on her pink, rubber changing mat and began to unpin her nappy. The baby puffed a gentle tongueful of spew out of her tiny mouth and down the side of her chin. Sammy Jo undid the nappy and then, almost without thought, used one of its Terry corners to mop up the sick. She lifted the babys head up, gently supporting its weight in her free hand, to make sure that her mouth was now empty. She didnt want her to choke accidentally.
A Necessary Truth
Sammy Jo burped the baby and then lay her down on her pink, rubber changing mat and began to unpin her nappy. The baby puffed a gentle tongueful of spew out of her tiny mouth and down the side of her chin. Sammy Jo undid the nappy and then, almost without thought, used one of its Terry corners to mop up the sick. She lifted the babys head up, gently supporting its weight in her free hand, to make sure that her mouth was now empty. She didnt want her to choke accidentally.
The baby was called Charlie, short for Charlotte. She was four months old. Sammy Jo tossed the nappy into the (thankfully close) washing basket and carefully laid Charlies head down again. She picked up a clean nappy and formed it into the requisite shape. The baby wheezed quietly.
Sammy Jo stared out of the window for a moment and caught sight of her husband Jason hanging out some nappies on the line. She rolled her tongue around the long nappy pin with its baby pink tip which she had stuck in the corner of her mouth like a metal cigarette while she felt around sightlessly on the table for some baby-wipes and talc.
The telephone rang. She grimaced to herself, let go of the tin of talc and then reached over to pick it up. Charlie screwed up her face at the sudden sharpness of the ringing she couldnt decide whether to cry or not and then relaxed again when it stopped. Sammy Jo carried on staring out of the window. Yes?
She never said anything but yes when she answered the telephone. Her biggest mistake in the past had been repeating her name and number on answering. She now knew that if you say your name and number some strange people copy this information down when they hear a womans voice. Then they telephone you again and again and turn your life into a living hell.
Sammy Jos telephone number was ex-directory. All the people who now had her number were people that she definitely trusted; a mere handful. This system had hitherto proved virtually foolproof.
A voice said, What can we be sure of in our life? What two things can we infer almost immediately without needing to resort to empirical information?
Sammy Jos eyes snapped away from the window and focused, somewhat pointlessly, on the telephone receiver in her hand. The voice continued, By empirical I mean information derived from experience. Does all this sound rather confusing? Dont let it confuse you. Ive already confused myself. Bringing in the notion of empirical experience Locke, Hume, remember those names has confused things already. Lets start again.
Sammy Jo slammed down the receiver. She stood up and searched around for some paper and a pen. She found a thick telephone pad with slightly sticky adhesive edges which she had been given (months before) by her local independent pizza restaurant and takeaway. Each piece of paper was shaped like a red and yellow pizza, intermittently round, with the address and telephone number of the restaurant in small print at the top.
She placed the pad on the table in between the telephone and the baby and began to write: Man, Thirty/forty, deep but weak voice muffled? Breathy.
She paused and thought for a moment and then wrote: Rubbish, not offensive. She crossed out the word offensive and then wrote sexual instead. She bit her lip. The telephone rang again. She stared out of the window towards Jason (who still seemed rather preoccupied) and then slowly, hesitantly, picked up the receiver. A voice said, Hi! Sammy Jo? Sammy Jo breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed visibly. She smiled. Hello. Yes?
Hi Sammy, its Lucy here, Lucy Cosbie. How are things?
Sammy Jo pinched the receiver between her shoulder and her ear while using her two free hands to grab a tissue and wipe Charlies bottom. Charlie let out a small whimper, but Lucy Cosbie heard it. Is that Charlie there?
Sammy Jo grinned. Yeah. Im changing her. I havent seen you for a couple of months, Lucy. You must pop around when youre free. Jason mentioned you only the other day
Lucys laughter echoed down the telephone line. Wow! I must be making progress if Jasons asking about me!
Sammy Jo clucked her tongue and picked up the talc. Dont be stupid. In a way I think he kind of misses you.
Lucy stopped laughing and said, Well, this is just a semi-professional informal call. I wanted to make sure that things are fine, that everything is going well, you know
Sammy Jo finished talcing the babys bottom and put the talc bottle down on the table. She stared guiltily at the pizza pad in front of her and touched what she had written on the pad with her index finger. She then said, Honestly, Lucy, everythings great. I already have my midwife coming around every other week to check up on Charlies progress. Shes doing just fine. I think enough of the councils resources have been spent on me already without you worrying too
Lucy was sensitive to Sammy Jos tone. She said lightly, Sammy Jo, relax. Im not checking up on you. I know how sensitive young mums can be. Im honestly not intruding, just interested.
Sammy Jo interrupted, breathless with embarrassment. Lucy, Im sorry. I didnt mean it to sound like that, honestly. Im just a bit uptight today. Youre more than welcome here any time. In fact, why dont we make a date for a visit right now? How about Thursday afternoon?
Sammy Jo could hear the busy noises of an office and a typewriter behind Lucys voice. Lucy said, Hey! Im quite a busy person, Sammy Jo. Im afraid Thursdays a bit tight for me. I tell you what, why dont I ring in a couple of weeks time and we can make an evening arrangement? Something purely social. That way the neighbours cant possibly have anything to gossip about, especially if I arrive on your doorstep after six-thirty with a bottle of wine. How about it? Purely informal. Im desperate to see that gorgeous baby again.
Sammy Jo smiled. I dont care what anyone thinks, Lucy. Id love to see you, any time of day. Telephone soon, OK?
They exchanged their farewells.
Sammy Jo put down her receiver and reached out to pick up Charlies legs, lifted them up a few inches and slid the nappy underneath her whitely talced bottom. Before she could complete her nappy-tying, Jason had strolled into the room with the bag of remaining clothes pegs tucked under his arm. He said, Did I hear the telephone ring?
Sammy Jo nodded. Yes. It was Lucy Cosbie.
He raised his eyebrows, rather cynically. Checking up? I didnt think you were her department any more.
Sammy Jo smiled. Im not. Just a social call, thats all. She pushed the nappy pin into Charlies nappy and, picking her up, said, Look, Jason, Charlies left you a little present in the washing basket.
Jason looked down at the basket and let out a howl of horror. Bloody hell! Youd think we had a production line of babies in here, not just one, with the amount of waste she produces. Im sure that when she eventually gets around to speaking, her first coherent words will be More washing, Daddy.
Sammy Jo was looking around for one of Charlies clean romper suits. Before she could say anything Jason said, In the pile on the sofa. Would you mind putting on some rubber knickers this time so it doesnt get soaked in twenty seconds?
She winked. Oh, Jason, you never said you liked me in rubber before!
He smiled and shook his head. I know that I agreed to take responsibility for the washing of nappies and stuff if we had a baby, Sammy Jo, but tomorrow I have a lot of work on so I might just pop out and buy a packet or two of disposables, all right? Just for one day.
Sammy Jo shrugged, unmoved, I dont care, Jason, go ahead. Youre the one whos so bothered about the environmental angle concerning disposables, not me. Buy them if you want to, feel free.
Jason picked up his jacket, which was slung over the back of the sofa. He said, Ill pop out now. Do you want anything else?
Sammy Jo smiled obsequiously. Ill write you a list.
She looked around her and then saw the pizza pad on the table. Jason was watching her as he pulled his jacket on. She saw the few words that she had scribbled on to the top of the pad and, trying not to frown, ripped the page away and screwed it up in her hand. Jason said, Whats that? Beginning of your thesis?