Chapter 426: An Englishman's Castle

Chapter 426: An Englishman's Castle

I inhaled deeply. There was no mistaking it genuine British air. I knew it was British because of the faint smell of diesel and cow shit, a disgusting combination that the English countryside proudly insisted on, as integral to the rural way of life as fox hunting and sheep shagging. God, I hated the countryside.

My first instinct was to assume this was another fake reality created by Maurice, but hallucinations were never a hundred percent accurate, and smells were particularly hard to simulate.

Rather than clear my head, which was what I had been going for, taking a deep breath made me feel even more dazed and confused, both from the shock of returning home and also the toxic pesticides farmers use to make sure we have perfectly symmetrical potatoes.

This dislocated feeling was kind of nostalgic for me. It was the same sort of confusion I had experienced that first day I arrived in Flatland.nove(l)bi(n.)com

I should have felt happy to be out of there, a crazy, unreal world where everything was determined to kill you. I should have been happy to be back in a sane, normal, boring world where no one cared enough to want me dead, where no one even knew I existed. Anonymity had a lot going for it.

Only, it didnt actually feel all that great to be back. Not that I had much choice about it. Here I was. Adventure over.

The wind was brisk and the stars were intermittently hidden behind clouds preparing to piss down on me any minute. The first thing I needed to do was get down from here, then I could figure out what to do next.

I didnt know where I was and I had no way of taking care of myself. No money, no friends, no magic sword. None of the basics.

The moon kept disappearing behind clouds and the darkness made it difficult to see anything.

I was definitely on top of a castle that much I knew. The funny-shaped walls gave it away. And also, it was the same castle from my vision, where Id met a future version of Claire. Was she about to appear? Would she provide me with answers and, more importantly, would she have the foresight to bring some sort of hot meat-filled pastry with her? Not bloody likely.

Imagine how much male-female relationships would improve if women carried around a few savoury pies in their handbags instead of all that other crap they insist on lugging around. Sexism would disappear overnight.

Low blood sugar may have caused me to become unreasonably angry about future-Claires lack of a portable pantry, but my rage did at least help to warm my shivering bones, which was helpful as my clothes were from Flatland and apparently were not made with the intemperate British climate in mind.

Claire did not appear. No one did. I remained pie-less. I think I heard the sound of a passing aeroplane but it could have been my stomach.

It was cold and dark and I was standing on castle battlements, that much I could confirm. Everything was made of stone and solidly built. There was an ugly blue door with a sign showing it was an exit. The sign was written in English.

Okay. Old world traditional construction, modern world shitty Health and Safety features.

I hurried over and tried the handle; didnt budge. I dont mean the door didnt move, I mean I couldnt even turn the handle. Pull, push, twist, nothing. This was a fire exit.

Of course it didnt work. Why would it?

Thats how this world worked. Insurmountable obstacles, pointless obstructions, endless inconveniences. It wasnt supposed to be like that, but there was a guy coming to fix it on Tuesday, between nine and three. He was supposed to come last week but something came up. But this week, for sure.

I punched the door and hurt my hand. Then I kicked it and hurt my foot. I felt so weak and powerless. If this was Flatland, I could burn the door down, I could jump off the room and heal myself of my injuries. There was so much more I was capable of that this world just wasnt going to allow.

Id been through so much, gained so much, and now I had lost it all. It would have been easy to give up all hope and lie down, but the stone floor didnt look very comfortable so I decided to postpone succumbing to despair (temporarily, of course). Instead, I took a moment and stepped back from the door.

My magic may have abandoned me but I was still someone who had plenty of experience in getting myself out of the shit I constantly found myself in. Practice makes perfect, I guess.

Hmm. I best be getting back. Wife be wondering where I am.

Right, then. See you in the morning.

See you.

There were various clunks and clicks as the man got in the van and started it up. The smell from the exhaust flooded my senses as the vehicle rattled and shook above me. The van started moving. The light from the open doorway would be enough to reveal my presence, but if I rolled out there was a good chance I would be spotted or get squashed.

It was at times like these that my wealth of experience facing life or death crises came into its own. I closed my eyes and lay as still as possible, hoping the problem would go away.

The van drove off, the sound of its engine growing more distant. A cold breeze washed over my prone figure. I slowly opened my eyes and looked up.

There was a pale, skinny man standing in the doorway in just his boxers, staring at me.

Who the fuck are you?

I jumped up and said, You home-wrecking bastard! Then I turned around and ran after the receding tail lights of the van, shouting, Dad! Dad!

The van was far enough for there to be no danger he would hear me, and it was still dark enough so he wouldnt see me in his mirror. Hopefully, the guy in the underpants wouldnt want to get involved in family matters and leave it.

In any case, I ran until I reached a road and slowed down to catch my breath. There was the yellowish glow of street lights in the distance and the sounds of traffic and no sounds of police sirens, so I seemed to have gotten away with it.

I walked for quite a while before I reached a road with lampposts. There was a sign with the red symbol for a train station. I veered to the left and kept going. The occasional car drove past me. The people in them looked pretty normal, dressed as youd expect. I was beginning to think Id been returned around the same time Id left. I hadnt seen any futuristic cars or anyone flying by on a hoverboard. Cant say I wasnt a little disappointed.

I checked my ill-gotten gains, a grand total of 7.52, which wasnt a lot. The money looked the same as the coins I was familiar with, with the same queen on them. There hadnt been a coup while Id been gone, with Charles finally claiming the throne, blood streaking down Pall Mall and the heads of journalists from The Guardian stuck on the gates of Buckingham Palace.

I continued to try to make my magic work as I walked along but with no luck. No flame on my finger, no healing light.

After another hour or so, I arrived at Arundel station. It was a small train station with no one around. The large digital clock said it was nearly six oclock. There was no one in the ticket booth, but there were machines where you could buy tickets. There was a direct train to London Victoria for the low, low price of thirty quid. Well, 33.10, to be exact. Even now, the Great Train Robbery was celebrated daily all over these British Isles.

The next train was due now. The tracks rattled and there was a whoosh of air as the 6:04 to London pulled into Platform 1. I jumped the barrier and ran down the stairs.

Old Colin would have been very nervous about fare dodging. Old Colin would look guilty the whole time and would desperately need the loo but refuse to go because thats where fare dodgers hide and that would be the first place theyd look. Old Colin was big on overthinking everything.

This Colin didnt give a shit. There were probably security cameras watching, but no one really cared. Probably werent even turned on.

The train came to a creaking, grinding halt and the doors slid open to reveal an empty carriage with free newspapers on each seat. I picked one up and checked the date. February 29th, 2020.

Four years was how often people were supposedly transported to Flatland. Every leap year. Did that mean a new batch had been sent over? Was that how I managed to slip back, using their interdimensional tunnel?

Four years. It made me feel a bit dizzy. I slumped into a seat and went through the paper to find out how the world had changed, thinking four years wasnt really long enough for anything really major to have happened. Boy, was I wrong.