Professional Mourners

 

12 months ago subscribers to my Patreon could read this tale from the professional mourners. Now the gates have opened and we can all learn what they say.

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Professional Mourner

So there we were, waiting outside the town house of Lord So-and-so. You know who I’m talking about, not going to name drop, I’m a professional and we don’t do that. We’re waiting for the word to come. You know how it is. These posh folks up on nob hill. They’ve got an account with the boss, so when they think the time is coming they send word and we jump. And then they linger, can’t blame them for that. Not usually the client as sends for us to be fair. A family member jumping the gun or an over-zealous underling. Wanting to make sure everything looks right for the neighbours. As though half an hour to save us standing out in the weather would hurt.

Anyway, we’re standing there, bundled up in coats and hats still, just like any other idlers, we’re professionals, don’t want to go off early, and this enormous black cockerel comes up the street. Well at first I think it’s someone playing games. Two family members, rivals, putting on a show, trying to one up each other. We’re professionals, we don’t use animals. They’re unreliable. The horses to pull the carriage, that’s it, anything else we won’t take the job, not even for ready money.

Anyway this cockerel is coming up the road and young Billy turns around and sees it. “Bloody big bird,” he says. “Uncannily enormous.” We’re not yet on duty so I don’t chew him out for the swearing, but I do give him the stare. But when I look, I see it really is big.

Listen, you see some odd things in this job, especially late at night, waiting for the event. But in broad daylight, coming up nob hill like that. A jet black cockerel, blood-red feet and wattle, as tall as a man. As tall as a big man. We get out of its way and it pecks right at Lord So-and-so’s door, and is let in.

We’re all looking at each other when there’s a discrete signal from the window. Well, that was it, time to start with the mourning. “Oh Lamentations! Oh Woe! Lord So-and-so has left us!” You know how it is, you’ve seen us at work. And we’d been paid for a day and a night so we didn’t have time to think about it.

So do I think that Death came for his lordship in the form of a Cockerel? I’m a serious man, and I’ll tell you what I saw. When I saw that cockerel walking up the street, well, I nodded to it and it nodded back. One professional to another.