The Mariner

“Kids,” Tetrazzini rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry, she’s rather shy with strangers, but once you’ve been here a week or so, you won’t be able to shut her up.”

“That’s ok,” the Mariner mumbled, still mulling over the coincidence and staring at the foliage through which the girl had vanished.

“You asked me how many patients I have. Well, as you can see, my rehab unit appears small, but on the inside its economical with the space. We can house up to five guests at once, though at the moment we only have three. You’re the fourth.”

“We?”

“Yes, myself and Grace. We run the centre together. The only other patient you haven’t met is Donna; she’s in the infirmary. ”

The Mariner sighed, looking about the grounds with a mixture of content, envy, and the unease of chemical dependency. “You have a wonderful place here, doctor. I can’t thank you enough.”

“Nonsense.” Tetrazzini put his arm around him and began to lead inside. “Thank me once you’re better. You, the patient, are all that’s important. It is addiction that turns man into beast, and when you’re free of that, you’ll be amazed at what you can achieve.”

The Mariner allowed himself to be led, stomach fluttering with excitement. Perhaps it was his addiction that had dragged him down, stopped him from finding the island he’d been searching for all this time? No wonder every day felt like a curse! He had a disease, an affliction; once it was cured he would be free of his sins. Free to start anew.

They passed back into the cool building and into a study. It took a few seconds for the Mariner’s eyes to adjust from the glare of the sun to the shade inside. Finally colours seeped into his vision and the room revealed itself. Like the previous, the study was furnished with comforts the Mariner had only dreamed of. Every surface was clean, every chair cushioned. In the corner was a white humming box that when opened spilled out gloriously cool air.

“We’re going to start your treatment right away,” said Tetrazzini as he reached inside.

“Really?” The Mariner was thinking of that last drink he’d been hoping for. “I thought I might… settle in for a bit before we got going?”

“Nonsense, no time like the present.” And then, to the Mariner’s horror, he saw what the doctor had pulled from the box. A beer. “It’s cold,” Tetrazzini said, seemingly unaware of the torture he was inflicting. “We have a generator here, so there’s electricity to run the lights and cool the fridge. Take it.”

Drops of moisture ran down the glass, mirroring the saliva that flowed in the Mariner’s mouth.

“Is this a test? Am I expected to resist already?” The Mariner closed his eyes in misery. Every fibre of his being was screaming for the drink, egging him on to seize the bottle and drain it in an instant. Only then would the pain in his stomach and his head cease.

He began to tremble, and would have continued to if not for the comforting hand he felt placed upon his shoulder.

“Open your eyes my friend. It’s no test. We do not teach abstinence here. In fact, it’s necessary for your treatment that you do drink. First, take this pill.” Tetrazzini put the bottle on his desk and pulled a small capsule out his breast pocket. It rattled as he unscrewed the top and shook out a single white pill into his palm.

Still shivering, the Mariner tried to tear his eyes away from the cold beverage. “What is it?”

“An innovation of mine. Blending traditional beta-blockers with Ibogaine extracts. I meant it when I said you need to keep drinking to lose your addiction. It works thus: every time you ever drank alcohol, it reinforced the addiction in your brain. In your neurons. It is that connection that needs to be severed. And with these pills it can be. I want you to take one every time you drink. And every time you do, you will lose a little bit more the need to do it again, until one day the addiction will be completely gone.” He flexed his hands like a magician disappearing a rabbit.

“And I’ll never drink again?”

“You’ll never need to drink again. That’s the beauty of this drug: you can still drink! In fact you could drink yourself silly every day for twenty years, but if you take this pill every time you do, you’ll never become addicted. You’ll never have dependency. It is addiction, not action, that causes a man to become a beast.”

“It sounds too simple.”

Tetrazzini laughed. “Yes, yes it does, doesn’t it? But the best solutions often are, aren’t they? Drink! Drink my friend, you’re in good care. Other doctors preach abstinence, but not me. I don’t tell my patients to turn their backs on their behaviour or their lives. I tell them to embrace their addiction. Don’t run, seize it! Squeeze it! Only when you confront addiction head on will you become free. Confront it and you’ll never feel the pain of want or denial ever again. You’ll once again be truly alive!”

The beta-blocker felt sour and dry in his throat. The Mariner wasn’t bothered though, he washed it down soon after.