I was reading a book on René Descartes when I heard a knock on the door. Not the type of aggressive knocks that sounded like thunder booming, but gentle knocks that would almost make one mistake it for the sound of rustling branches of the trees outside the window. In fact, I almost dismissed the knocking sound as a figment of my imagination when it came again. Knock, knock, and knock.
I put down my book and walked towards the door. Who would come and look for me in this late hour of the night, I wondered. When I opened the door, there was this man in a business suit standing outside the door. The first impression that he gave me was that he looked gray. Not only was his business suit gray in color, so were his hair and eyebrows. I didn't know whether it was the night playing tricks on my eyes, but I could almost swear that his skin was also gray in color. In fact, it seemed to me that all colors had been taken from this man, and the only way to differentiate the outlines of the different parts of his body was by the varying shades of gray that seemed to paint different parts of his body.
"How may I help you?" I was trying hard not to stare. Damn, even his shoes and briefcase were gray in color.
"Well, I’m actually a salesperson and I have a very nice deal for you. Would you mind opening the door and letting me in so that we can talk things over a nice cup of hot coffee?" he smiled sincerely.
"Well, I don't know..." I hesitated.
"I’ve been walking up and down these blocks for three hours already, and frankly speaking, I’m quite exhausted and thirsty. Could you just let me in for a while for a nice cup of coffee so that I can tell you all about the deal while I rest my weary feet? You don't necessary have to accept my offer, just hear me talk about It." weariness showed in his smile this time.
What the heck, I thought, I’ve got nothing better to do anyway, and I didn't understand a fuck what Descartes was trying to say in the book. I’m sure this guy wouldn't want to rob me anyway. Even if he did, there's really nothing valuable in the house for him to take.
"Well then, come on in." I said as I opened the door for him.
He bowed slightly as he entered the house, as if to show appreciation for my hospitality. I offered him a seat in the living room and asked, "Well, do you want milk for your coffee?"
"Yes, thank you please."
So I went into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. I don't actually drink coffee. In fact, I find the taste of coffee distinctly disgusting. However, my girlfriend is addicted to this beverage, so there is just a small bottle of coffee powder in the kitchen at all times. I made a cup of coffee for the man in the living room and a cup of hot Milo for myself. From the corner of my eye, I saw that he was taking out some documents from his briefcase and laying them out on the coffee table. Well, at least he wasn't a robber trying to rob me. As I carried out the two cups of beverages to the living room, I wondered what it was that he was trying to sell.
"Well, this is hot, so try to take it slowly." I told the man as I laid down the cup of coffee in front of him.
"Thank you very much,” he said politely as he took a swipe of the burning hot coffee. He placed the cup on the coffee table after his thirst seemed to have been quenched. All of a sudden, he took out a name card out of his shirt pocket and held it with both hands in front of me. I really do mean "all of a sudden". One moment I was enjoying the hot Milo, and the next moment there was a name card being thrust in my face.
I placed my cup on the coffee table and took the name card from him. It read:
The devil
666, Hell
I put down the name card and looked at the man in front of me straight in the eyes. He was still smiling politely and nodding his head slightly in response to my gaze. Is this some kind of a joke? I thought to myself. Perhaps this guy is mental. If this was the case, then I might be in serious trouble. He was still smiling politely. I wondered what I should do next, whether to play along with him or to demand an explanation for all these absurdities. It was at this point of time I noticed something very odd. When I had received him at the door, I dismissed the fact that his skin was gray in color as an illusion conjured up by the lack of light. However, as I scrutinized him more closely under the light now, I discovered that his skin was really gray in color. It wasn't my eyes playing tricks on me just now. He was still smiling politely. I suddenly remembered a part of a story I had read somewhere a lot time ago. I can't recall exactly which story it was, what the plot was, who the characters involved were or any other things about the story. However, there was one part where the devil came in the guise of a salesperson in order to purchase his soul from him. I drew in a deep breath. Well, what do you know? Truth is stranger than fiction.
"So, Mr. devil, what do you want from me?" I asked, trying to disguise any trace of nervousness that I have in my voice with nonchalance.
"Well, as I said just now, I came here to offer you a deal... a very lucrative deal, as a matter of fact. Yes, you will benefit from it. In fact, most of the others have said that they benefited from the deal. Of course, you do not have to agree, I’m just here to state my proposal, you know, I..."
"I think you can come straight to the point." I interrupted the devil.
"Yes, yes, time is precious, isn't it? Well, since that is the case, I’ll just go straight into the point" he paused, "I’ll like to buy your soul from you."
"My soul?" I queried.
"Yes, your soul. Of course, I wouldn't buy it from you cheaply. Yes sir, there are a lot of benefits to be gained when you sell your soul to me. First and foremost, you do not have to fear about eternal damnation. It’s not that once you sell your soul to me, you'll be subjected to eternal damnation, you know. You can still get to heaven if you accumulated enough good deeds in your life. I’m not forcing you to just give me your soul like that. I’m just asking you to sign a contract saying that your soul would belong to me on the precondition that you do not make it to heaven. You still have an equal chance of making it into heaven even if you sign the contract. And if you really sign this contract, I can grant you a few wishes as indicated in this blue document here. You can choose any three of the wishes indicated here. See, here's a good one, it says that you would be entitled to at least half a million dollars each year of your life on earth. Another one here gives you the opportunity to live up to the age of hundred, and these are just two of the numerous wishes you can choose from. Of course, I realize that sometimes customers like to custom their own wishes, so you can actually custom you wish on this column here too. However, it will be subjected to selection and discussion among my peers before acceptance. We simply can't grant you anything that's outside our scope of power, can we? These offers are really interesting, you know. In fact, there is absolutely no catch. Just think of it as buying an insurance from an agent." the devil spoke as though he had gone through this speech a million of times. Well, I wouldn't be surprised if he really had.
"So, what do you think of my offer?" the devil asked, smiling politely again.
"Well, much as your offer is interesting, I don't really think I can accept it." I replied after a moment's thought.
"Why?"
"Well, basically, I’m currently a psychology student in college, and as you would know, psychology is a behavioral science. Thus it can be considered as a branch of science itself. One of the interesting assumptions of science is that we must always base our judgment and perception on empirical data and experience, and anything that is abstract must be quantified in such a way that it can be measured empirically."
"The point you are trying to drive at?"
"Well, as psychologists, we basically deny the existence of a soul. It doesn't exist as far as we are concerned, as it falls outside the range of empirical measurement and experience. Since this is the case, how do you expect me to sell my soul to you? It just like asking me to sell you the hole in a donut after I have eaten it."
"Well, that really seemed to be a problem." the devil looked somewhat crestfallen at the prospect of a failed deal, "isn't there a compromise we can reach or something?"
"Well, I could sell you my pituary gland if you want to, that is the only thing I can think of that comes closest to your concept of a soul. The pituary gland is of course the gland in the brain that controls all behaviors in the body by the secretion of hormones, and yeah, maybe this is the 'soul' thing you were talking about? However, I can't sell it to you now.... will you still be interested in it after my death?"
"Well, I don't really need pituary glands, you know... I can easily get them from corpses buried under the ground...." the tone of disappointment in the devil's voice was difficult to hide now, "Even if I really wanted to buy that from you, I wouldn’t want to offer any wishes to you in exchange for it... that would be an unfair trade from my perspective."
"In that case, I don't think we can strike a deal here." I said.
"True, true, sad but true." the devil sighed as he brought the cup of coffee to his mouth.
"If there's anything else you'll like to buy...."
"Well, actually, no. We’re only interested in souls,” he said as he put the cup down on the coffee table, "well, I must be going now, can't stay here forever. Time is precious, and I’ve got a quota to meet."
"I’ll see you to the door."
After the devil had left with his grayish existence, I proceeded to finish my cup of Milo and washed up the cups. As I was drying up the cups and placing them back onto the shelf, I couldn't help but think, what if I had promised to sell him my soul without telling him that I, in actual fact, denied the existence of my soul? That would be cheating on my part, wouldn't it? I wondered what would happen if I actually pulled off a bloody stunt like that.... come to think of it, half a million bucks a year is quite a generous offer. But, oh well, it's too late to consider this option now.
I returned to the living room and sat down on the sofa. There was still some time left before my usual bedtime, so I decided to proceed with where I have left off with the book. The wind had started to blow outside, forecasting the imminent presence of a storm. I flipped over a page of the book, trying to disentangle my thoughts through Descartes’ elaborate use of language. Somewhere in the distant, I could hear a baby crying.
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