The Mariner

The Mariner tried. It felt silly, but he could just about do it.

“Now instead of a pillow she’s placing over your face, its a big fluffy mask, so you’ll look like a silly rabbit too.”

The Mariner opened his eyes, eyebrows raised in cynicism. “But that’s not how the dream goes. That’s not how it went.”

“But that’s the point,” Tetrazzini insisted. “It isn’t. Whatever happened, whatever sad events took place between a boy and his mother, it isn’t happening now. It doesn’t exist anywhere but here.” He tapped a finger on the Mariner’s skull. “And if that’s the only place it exists, then what’s to stop you changing it?”

“I… think I understand.”

“We may well employ that tactic, once we understand where this memory came from.”

The Mariner paused, ingesting the technique. “And you said I could have made it up?”

“It’s a possibility.”

“I see.” A lie, the Mariner didn’t understand at all. He was more perplexed about the dream than when they’d begun.

“In this dream, where do you think your father is?”

The Mariner shrugged, he’d never given it much thought. “Just away.”

“You said you made friends with a man named Alcott, many years your senior.”

“That’s right.”

“Would you say he was a good man?”

The Mariner remembered Absinth Alcott: his selfishness, his ruthless disregard for others. He also remembered feeding him to the devils.

“No.”

“And yet when you told me you parted ways, you looked sad.”

“I was. I am. Alcott was,” the Mariner struggled for an accurate word. “A friend.”

“A ‘friend’ who threatened your life and treated you as a means to an end?”

The Mariner chose not an respond.

“And now you’re here, putting your faith in me, another man more advanced in years than your own. Do you not think it strange that you be so quick to trust us both?”

“You’re not to be trusted?”

Tetrazzini laughed. “Of course I am. But what I’m trying to point out to you is your desire for a father figure. Someone to fill the void so obviously apparent in these dreams of yours, someone to protect you from this dangerous matriarch. And when you fail to find a father to fill the void, you seek out alcohol to do the job instead.”

The Mariner frowned. “So if I find my father… my addiction will go away?”

“No, not at all. I’m just theorising about what caused you to drink so much, that’s all. The addiction was caused by repetitive action and a reward function. The pills will treat that.” He sighed and put his notes on the floor. “I think that’s enough for today’s session. Well done, I think we covered a lot of ground and even made some progress, don’t you think?”

The Mariner stood, looking sheepish in his uncertainty. “I guess so.”

Matching the Mariner, Tetrazzini rose and put his hand on the sailor’s shoulder to stop him leaving.

“Before you go, I wanted to thank you again for what you did for Rebecca. She was very lucky you woke up at that moment, otherwise…” The doctor looked to the floor, unable to voice the possible further horrors that could have taken place. “I have no doubt she owes you her life.”

You watched her.

Guilt and remorse made the Mariner’s voice hollow. “I only wish I could have…”

Raped her myself.

“…woken up sooner.”

An expression the Mariner couldn’t decipher flickered across the doctor’s face and then was gone. Had he seen the guilt? Had he sensed the Mariner’s sin?

“Don’t beat yourself up about it, you did the best you could under the circumstances. I take full responsibility, I shouldn’t have allowed you both into town without further supervision. Sighisoara is a small community, but just as dangerous as any other in this broken world.” Tetrazzini’s bitter admission of his own remorse seemed genuine; the colour drained from his face as he spoke, ageing him before the Mariner’s eyes. “What happened? Where did it all go?”

The Mariner had no answer to give, and after sharing a moment of silence together the doctor shook himself from his reverie and opened a door leading to the garden, gesturing he should leave.

Outside, the air was warm, though not as bright as the Mariner had been led to believe from staring out the window. The sun was heavy in the sky, its reflection on the ocean providing the golden glow.

The Mariner heard Tetrazzini close the door, leaving him alone with the peaceful sounds of the birds as they collected their supper of insects. Somewhere in the foliage he could hear the swift rat-a-tat-tat of a woodpecker. A glimmer of white and red amongst the brown bark hinted at its whereabouts.

“Do you remember the zoo?”

The voice surprised him, he’d completely forgotten that Grace was playing outside. She stood not far off with her back to him, staring out at sea through a gap in the trees.

It was the first time they’d spoken, and a certain amount of superstition about her name still lingered in his mind. Reluctant to step closer, he stayed put.

“A ‘zoo’?”

Disappointed. “No-one ever remembers. It used to be over there.” She pointed to Sighisoara’s western side. “I liked the monkeys.”

“What happened to it?”