A Place Called Radcastle Station by Jack Cummins

The day had dragged at the office where I was working and it was a wonderful relief to walk away from the drudgery. Only one more day until the bliss of the weekend. I sat on the bus home and the temptation for a quick drink was too strong to resist. I had a collection of Stephen King stories in my rucksack and would escape into another world.

I bought some cheap cider and searched for a quiet, uncluttered area in the pub I came to. The mess was a big problem as so many tables had not been cleared. There were so many plates with dead chips, shrivelled burgers and decaying salad leaves. The sight put me off eating at all and I had a few more drinks. My head became fuzzy as I drifted off into the gothic parallel universes constructed by Stephen King. It was getting late. I was due to phone my mother and try to get a decent night's sleep to cope with busy Friday.

I got on the bus to go home and phoned my mother. She said, 'You're late. I have been worried about you.'
'I'm okay. I have been out reading but I am on the bus home now. How are you?'
'I 've had a terrible day. The cat has been going to the toilet everywhere and I am so tired from bending down to clear it up. He also keeps jumping up and down. Have you had any supper?'
'No, not just yet. I don't know what you are going to do with Biffy. He's ruining your life'.
'I know, but I do love him. I will be so glad when you have some leave from work and can come and give me a hand'.
'Hopefully, in a couple of weeks', and I saw the bus was terminating, so I said goodbye to my mother, realising that I was in a country area I didn't know.

It was dark and I had no idea where I was. Maybe I had caught the bus in the wrong direction and should cross the road and get one back. A white haired man, wearing a suit was sitting at the stop on the other side, smoking a cigarette. I told him my problem of being lost and he said,
'There are no more busses tonight, son', and I walked off in a tranced out whirlpool of distress. I didn't have the money for a taxi in my pocket. There wasn't anyone I could phone to ask to come and pick me up this late at night. I wandered along the path, with no clue where I was in this post-apocalyptic wasteland.

The only feasible solution seemed to be to try to find somewhere to rest. I could make my way to work in the morning. I would probably look a bit rough, unshaven and wouldn't have showered. I wandered along the lane, hoping to find a bench. I was chilly as it was cold for September. I found a patch of grass and lay down. I pulled my rucksack over my chest as an improvised sheet.

The ground was hard against my spine and I thought how some people in the world have to sleep on the ground for a bed. I expected comforts and would not cope at all if I became homeless. My stomach churned as I had not eaten since midday and I had a headache. If only I had some over-the-counter sleeping tablets. I tossed and turned on the damp grass but adrenaline was surging through my entire body. I got up and began walking and walking. I spotted a railway station, a sign of civilisation in the deserted wilderness. If only there could be a train running, and I had enough money on my railcard. I looked at my watch and it was 2.30 in the morning. I would probably need to wait and catch the first morning train.

I was so happy to walk into the shelter of the station and I could see a bench to lie upon. The station sign said, 'Radcastle Station'. It seemed a strange combination of retro and futurism, like a steampunk collage. I sat down and tried to still my racing thoughts. A man emerged from the shadows and he said,
'Hello, what are you doing out this late here?'.
'I got lost. I was miserable after work and went for a few drinks'
'You seem spaced out. How much did you drink?'
'I'm not sure,' I shrugged.

He told me that I had shown up on CCTV and that the transport police had been alerted. The man engaged me in mundane conversation about his daughter. I saw an ambulance and I was ushered into it. A police car trailed behind. I was asked so many questions, mainly about whether I was depressed. Finally, the man with a ponytail said, 'We're taking you to A&E, to have you checked out'.
I would have rather they had taken me home.

I was strapped in by the seatbelt and had my blood pressure taken and all my personal details taken down, even though I felt too tired and done in to answer endless questions. The ambulance made its way through the darkness of night and came to a hospital, where I was abandoned in a waiting area. It was warm and I managed to get a drink of water. I waited ages before being called into a cubicle. After telling my sorry story I was asked to wait and see the psychiatric team. I think that I was viewed as vulnerable and as a suicide risk. I was uncertain if I was free to leave if I wished to.

I couldn't relax because I knew that I needed to go to work in the morning. Time seemed to stop and when I paced around it was like I was trying to speed it up. I watched it become 8 and 9 in the morning and my absence at work would be apparent . I tried phoning my manager but the line was engaged each time I called. At last, I was called into a room and seen by a couple of laison psychiatric nurses. They were fairly young, listened to my story and did not think I was suicidal or crazy.

I phoned in to work when I got home. My manager, Jean, seemed horrified and bemused by the tale which I gave to explain my absence at work. She said, 'There is no such place as Radcastle.'

I have tried googling it and can't find such a place. I never went back to the office job, and I am jobless now. Biffy, the cat, has been diagnosed with a thyroid disorder and needed medication for this. I wonder if any other lost souls in the night will stumble across the hidden place of Radcastle Station. I continue my journeying and may come to other hidden places and portals, and my deepest desire is to find some beautiful creatures, and even a lover, in the midst of my travels.