He stretched stiff limbs and got to his feet, cursing as the pins and needles in his toes made him stumble. I’m getting too old for this he thought, even though he had no idea exactly how old he really was.
The Emporium was a kind of waiting room, with people sat in booths facing rows of vacant chairs, on the wall was a huge electronic screen displaying the number of the next to be seen. At midnight a steady stream of people started to come through the unlocked doors, they took a ticket from the machine on the wall and quietly sat down, no one spoke. Eventually when their number was called, they reported to the allotted desk and were told which floor to select in the elevator.
A lady in a crisp white suit walked between the desks constantly checking details on the paperwork before the numbers were called. She smiled at Thrumps as he took his place behind his own desk and tapped the coaster for a coffee.
Good evening, sir ... all is on track.” He nodded.
“Are these people dead?”
“Yes,” she said with a sad smile. “But that is not why they are here. They have been summoned as the escorts for someone they loved when they were alive. They are waiting here for when that person's number is up.”
An old lady walked away from one of the desks.
“My grandson,” she said shaking her head. “Such a lovely boy.”
“How will they recognise them?” Thrumps asked.
“These are the ones that volunteered to be the watchers and have been waiting for this day. They see them grow and if it is allowed, they are able to guide them in their life choices. Not that many listen,” she laughed. “They should pay more heed to what humans call gut instinct, it’s always a good sign.”
“Where do they go?” Thrumps asked pointing towards the elevator.
“Each floor represents a different religion or faith. These people are the ones selected as guides in the afterlife,” she said.
“Although …,” she paused to listen to the announcement. “As you just heard sometimes there’s a problem. Tonight a train running nine minutes late managed to avoid the upcoming crash. As a result no one actually died and so the greeters are no longer required.” They watched as the relevant people left. “Arrangements will be rescheduled for another time.” She laughed, “humans put this down to fate, or a lucky escape, but now you know that things like this are always just a matter of logistical errors, but shhhhh … don’t tell anyone.”
There was a steady flow of traffic for the next few hours, not as busy as Thrumps would have expected, but then what did he know.
“Does this happen somewhere every night? He asked the supervisor. She nodded.
“Yes, there are many other establishments that we frequent.”
Just before three in the morning it seemed that everything had been concluded.
Thrumps counted the strikes from the grandfather clock. One, two, three, but it continued to eleven, twelve and thirteen, Thirteen? Thrumps looked around.
The lights had dimmed leaving just one booth illuminated. The supervisor took the seat behind the desk, linked her hands in front of her and waited. Eventually the display clicked to the number 333. A man in a dark suit, that Thrumps had not noticed approached from the darkness. Her hands shook as she handed over the paperwork.
“Take the lift all the way down,” she said nervously. The shadow man grinned. Standing he doffed his hat and bid her goodnight.
The lift took ages to arrive as if reluctant to do so. Once inside the dark figure turned and caught Thrumps eye, lingering just a little too long for comfort before making his selection. Although he’d said nothing, Thrumps shivered and as the lift doors closed the lights came back on.
“Who or what was that?” he asked, taking the seat opposite the supervisor. She let out a sigh.
“It is not very often we get that kind pass through,” she said quietly. “Which is why you were chosen tonight. It was hoped that The Emporium magic would be strong enough to deal with anything nasty that might have occurred.”
Thrumps didn’t like the sound of that.
“So …” he began not really sure where his thoughts were going. “So, down is … ‘hell’?
She nodded.
“You see sometimes there is a soul so evil that no amount of redemption is ever going to be enough.” He indicated for her to go on.
“People like Jack the Ripper, Adolf Hitler, and Pol Potts to name but a few, but also child abusers and serial killers …” she took a deep breath. “They are the ones that can see nothing wrong in what they have done and so there is no other option but to send then below.”
“The paperwork lists every detail,” she said with a shudder. “Thankfully, it happens only rarely.
Thrumps took her hand. This was obviously part of her job, but one she really had no stomach for.
“So,” she said sounding brighter. “Hopefully that’s it for now and we’ll not have to meet again anytime soon.”
She gave him such a radiant smile, that Thrumps was somehow kind of sorry about that.