She grimaced. Very funny. Actually it was a trial shopping list, but Ive now thought of several items extra, including five years subscription to Parenting magazine.
She wrote down a couple of things and then handed him the piece of paper. He took it and perused it for a second. For a frightening moment there I thought you were serious.
She shrugged, You know me, Jason, happy with sterilizing liquid and rosehip syrup. I dont need anything else in my life.
He raised his eyebrows in disbelief, chucked Charlie gently under her chin and said, Ill only be gone ten minutes or so, enjoy yourself. Sammy Jo smiled.
When he had gone, she found a pair of rubber knickers, put them over Charlies nappy and then manoeuvred the babys tiny body into a yellow lambswool romper suit. She pulled a small, soft blanket from her cot by the window and wrapped her up in it, then lay her down inside the cot. Charlie squawked her disapproval as soon as Sammy Jo set her down. Sammy Jo steeled herself to ignore these noises and strolled into the kitchen to make a mug of tea. As she switched the kettle on the telephone started ringing. She paused for a moment and then went to answer it.
Yes?
A voice said, Forget all that crap about empirical information. I dont want to alarm you with big words before youve even got a grip on the basic ideas.
Sammy Jo bit her lip, and then said violently, What makes you think that I dont understand what that word means? What the hell makes you presume that?
Her heart sank. She hadnt intended to participate in this conversation at all. She knew that participation was half of the trouble with anonymous callers. It meant that you were condoning the act. Implicitly. She felt ashamed and stupid and thought, After all Ive been through, Im still a silly, stupid novice. I havent learned anything. I dont deserve peoples help and advice.
The voice continued, Lets go back to what I said first, Sammy Jo. That question about two things in life that we can be sure of. Two basic things.
Sammy Jos heart plummeted. She thought, My God, he knows my name. Did I say my name when I answered this time? Why did I answer him in the first place?
She said, I guess I can be sure that you are telephoning me, irritating me, involving yourself in my life when all I really wish is that you were dead in a room somewhere or dying of a terrible disease, or at the very least in some fundamental physical discomfort.
The voice cackled, Well done! Thats part of the answer, Sammy Jo, very well done. To put it simply, the two things that we can really be sure of in life are (a) that we exist. We can be sure of ourselves. Are you in any doubt that you exist, Sammy Jo, any doubt at all?
Sammy Jo sighed. The only thing I dont doubt is that you are a pain in the fanny. Thats all.
The voice paused for a moment and then said, I get your point. We know that we exist because we can feel pain. Our bodies feel pain. I can be sure of two things, to quote Russell: We are acquainted with our sense-data and, probably, with ourselves. These we know to exist. Sense-data is a silly technical word which Ill explain to you later.
Sammy Jo was biting her nails and looking around for the pen shed used earlier to write her shopping list. To pass the time she said, Go away. I dont want to talk to you.
The voice said, Imagine yourself in any situation, any situation at all. It doesnt matter what you imagine yourself doing.
He paused. I knew it would come to this, hes going to talk dirty. I knew it, Sammy Jo thought instantaneously. She felt familiar feelings of outraged passivity seeping into her chest. Go on, say it, you dirty bastard. Dont pretend that this is about anything else, she said.
But the voice continued, No matter what you think, do or imagine, the only constant element is you. You cant get away from yourself. You can imagine that the world is a figment of your imagination, that the sky is yellow but just seems blue, that your body doesnt really exist and that you are just imagining that it does, that you are in fact asleep and dreaming and not awake at all. Close your eyes.
Automatically Sammy Jo closed her eyes and quickly opened them again. She hung up. The phone rang immediately. She let it ring about ten times until the repetitive noise it made began to upset Charlie and she began to splutter and howl. Sammy Jo felt guilty about letting it upset her and also couldnt help thinking that perhaps it was someone else. Eventually she picked it up. Yes?
The voice continued, If you close your eyes its possible to reject almost everything that seems predictable in everyday life.
She sighed and then said bitterly, I cant deny the fact that you exist, though, can I? You exist, dont you?
The voice was urgent and persuasive. No way. Think about it. Nothing exterior to your mind and your thought is necessary. Dont be confused by my use of the word necessary here. I used it in its philosophical context. By it I mean a Necessary Truth, something that cannot be denied. For all you know my voice could be just a figment of your imagination.
Sammy Jo laughed, a guttural, cynical laugh. Oh, so now youre going to tell me that this telephone call, this infuriating interruption in my life, is my own fault. Is that it?
Could be.
Sammy Jo sighed loudly. Well, if I made you up, how come you wont go away?
There was a short silence. During this silence Sammy Jo picked up her pen and wrote the words NECESSARY TRUTH on the pizza pad in large capitals. The voice then said, Try and remember this phrase: I Think Therefore I Am. In Latin it goes Cogito Ergo Sum. I think is cogito, c-o-g-i-t-o. Therefore is ergo, e-r-g-o. I am is sum, s-u-m. Got that?
Sammy Jo finished writing down the last letter, then slammed her pen down on the table. What on earth makes you think I give a damn? Youre boring me. Go and bore someone else.
The voice said calmly, I want you to read something by a guy called Descartes tonight. He was the founder of modern philosophy circa 1600. He invented something called The Method of Systematic Doubt. If you can get hold of his Meditations Id recommend the first chapter. Its only short.
Sammy Jo said quickly, Forget it. Ill be much too busy this evening committing sodomy with my household pet and watching Emmerdale Farm.
Sammy Jo said quickly, Forget it. Ill be much too busy this evening committing sodomy with my household pet and watching Emmerdale Farm.
This time he rang off.
She picked up her pen again and wrote down the name Descartes (although she spelled it Deycart), then threw the pen down, tore off the top page of the pad, crumpled it up and threw it at the paper bin in the corner of the room. The paper missed the bin and hit the wall. She got up and went into the kitchen to finish making her cup of tea. While she was pouring in the milk Jason returned carrying a couple of bags of Pampers. He pinched her arm, Tea! Yes please! She grimaced and bent down to get out another cup.
That night when they were both lying in bed waiting to go to sleep and listening out for Charlies whimpers from her cot nearby, Sammy Jo took hold of Jasons arm and said, Jason, have you ever heard of Descartes?
Jason yawned and turned over on to his back, I dont know, Sammy Jo. I have some vague ideas about him. Probably read him at college at some point. Why?
Sammy Jo shrugged. Is it rude?
Jason laughed. Not so far as I know. He was French, but that doesnt necessarily mean that he was a kinky writer.
Sammy Jo sighed. Oh.
Jason paused for a moment, then said, Sammy Jo, I didnt mean to be off-putting. If youre interested I might have a book on ancient philosophy downstairs that features him, but I cant be sure. Sammy Jo smiled. I dont think so, Jason. Apparently Descartes was the founder of modern philosophical thought.
Jason opened his eyes and stared at her in the dark.
The following afternoon Sammy Jo had just returned from taking Charlie out for a walk in her pram and was taking off her coat and combing a hand through her rather windswept short, red hair, when the telephone started ringing. She picked Charlie up and went to answer it. It was the man again. She pulled the telephone over towards the sofa and sat down, balancing Charlie on her knees, supporting her with one hand. The man said, Hello, Sammy Jo. I suppose it would be optimistic of me to expect you to have read that chunk of Descartes Meditations that I recommended to you last night? The first chapter, remember?
Sammy Jo snorted. Why dont you just sod off?
The man continued, After I rang off yesterday it occurred to me that I hadnt been particularly encouraging towards you, and that was very wrong of me. I think you did extremely well, all things considered. You are obviously an intelligent woman. I think you just need stretching.
Sammy Jo shook her head, No, I dont need stretching. The only person who needs stretching around here is you, and by that I mean stretching on the rack. Ancient forms of torture. I like that idea.
The man said quietly, Try not to be so combative, Sammy Jo. Lets just get back to Descartes and his Method of Systematic Doubt.
Sammy Jo hung up. As she tucked Charlie up in her cot a good fifty seconds or so later, the telephone started to ring again. Sammy Jo finished arranging Charlies covers and then, grabbing hold of her pizza pad and pen, went to answer it.
Yes?
The man said, Do you understand the word scepticism, Sammy Jo? Try and give me a working definition.
Sammy Jo was writing on her pad in untidy capitals. She wrote: I WILL NOT GIVE IN. I CANNOT GIVE IN. I SHALL NOT GIVE IN. I MUST TAKE POSITIVE ACTION TELEPHONE JASON? TELEPHONE LUCY COSBIE? WHISTLE DOWN THE TELEPHONE?
The voice said, somewhat more harshly, Sammy Jo? Do you understand the meaning of the word scepticism?
Sammy Jo threw down her pen and ripped the top page away from her pad. She shouted, Of course I do. Dont patronize me. Of course I do.
Well, give me a working definition, then.
Why should I? Why?
He sighed, Just to prove that you know.
She laughed. I dont need to prove anything to you.
Well, prove it to yourself then.