Short Lived by Shortlived
‘Do you really think it’ll be okay?’ He looked up at her anxiously and Sophie paused in her sweep of their immediate surroundings – thankfully no one else seemed to have noticed Zach in his efforts to become a real-life Guy Fawkes.
‘Yeah, Zach – I think it’ll be fine.’
The nine year-old looked back at the bonfire once, uncertain. Sophie rolled her eyes and tousled his hair, a familiar gesture that only she could get away with.
‘So where did you get a phoenix egg then? You don’t really come across them outside of Harry Potter World.’
Zach shot her another surprised look and Sophie swallowed back a grin; Zach had a fantastic ability to seem both incredibly wise and incredibly innocent at exactly the same time, with his wide-eyed, gap-toothed, matter of fact smile and huge eyes.
‘In the supermarket.’
‘Huh - in the supermarket. Really?’
‘Yeah. Mum sent me to get some eggs and it was there in the egg box when we got home. It must have gotten in there by mistake.’
‘Must have,’ Sophie agreed, leading him back towards the sweet stalls with a hand on his shoulder. ‘Aren’t phoenix eggs pretty huge sorts of eggs though? I’m sure I read that somewhere.’
‘Well, it was a box of large eggs.’
At that Sophie had to laugh.
‘Okay, well I guess that explains it, yeah. So did you show your Mum?’
Zach pulled a face, lowering his chin so that his expression was lost in the night’s deep shadows and covered by the orange glow of the fire behind them.
‘She’s always too busy with Rosy.’
Sophie felt a sharp shard of sympathy cut through her and she stopped humouring him, instead halting mid-step to crouch down beside him again and crook the corner of her mouth in an understanding, earnest smile.
‘Yeah, I know it must feel like that a lot, Zach. But you know, Rosy’s going to get bigger pretty quickly and then she won’t need your Mum and Dad to look out for her – she’s going to want her big brother instead. And that’s pretty cool.’ She nudged his shoulder. ‘And I bet your Mum wishes she could spend time playing with you too – babies aren’t anywhere near as fun as finding phoenix eggs at the supermarket, trust me. And she can’t come to Bonfire Night with little Rosy, can she? Which sort of sucks for your Mum.’
Zach considered this intently, biting his bottom lip.
‘Is your Dad here?’
‘Luke’s mum brought us – me and Luke and Harry. But after she gave us some money for the tea-cups, she went off with some of the other mums and told us to come and find her when we wanted to go home.’ Wow, responsible, Sophie thought, rolling her eyes to the skies, where the stars twinkled their own disapproval. ‘I wanted to help the phoenix so I told Luke and Harry that I was going home early and to say Dad came to get me.’
‘That’s actually quite ingenious, Zach – nice.’ Sophie knew she probably shouldn’t be encouraging lies, but for a nine year-old that was a pretty foolproof way to slip off unnoticed. She certainly would never have come up with such a plan at his age. Zach’s parents still trusted Sophie to be a mature example to their son, though, so...
‘You know that it was still a really dangerous thing to do though, yeah? Playing with fire, sticking things into the middle of the bonfire – you could have been really hurt, Zach, not to mention if anyone else had seen you, you’d be in so much trouble. You must never do anything like that again, okay? I’m serious here, Zach, okay?’
Zach nodded guiltily. He knew how risky it was; Sophie could see it written all over his earnest little face and decided to end her lecture there. He was a bright kid, and it was probably more effective for him to be told off by her than by anyone else. And all because of an egg; she knew Zach was imaginative, but jeez. Rosy must be sucking up more of his parents’ attention than Sophie had originally thought.
‘Come on then – let’s go get some candy-floss and wait for the fireworks, yeah?’ His face brightened as though the sun had just come up. As they headed over to the stand, Sophie couldn’t help but ask him one last question, curiosity getting the better of her. ‘Zach, why did you decide that the egg needed to go in the bonfire? Couldn’t you just have hatched it in the oven or something?’
‘Phoenix eggs don’t hatch in the oven, Soph.’
‘Right.’
‘They hatch in proper flames – big orange and red ones, like in all the picture books. And then when the phoenix gets old and dies, it burns up again and another one comes to hatch out and take its place – so it never really dies at all, it just turns into something new and better and really, really cool.’
‘Right,’ Sophie repeated.
‘My book of myths and legends says that phoenixes look like flames too – all their feathers are orange and yellow and gold, and when they fly they leave a trail of shooting stars and sparks and stuff? The egg needed to hatch, so I had to help it. I just couldn’t think of a fire big enough. And then I remembered about tonight and the bonfire – I think it should work, Sophie. You know, it’s going to be so cool when it hatches...’ He paused, looking concernedly in the direction of the bonfire once more. ‘As long as I got it in far enough... They need loads of heat, you know?’
Sophie handed him a bag of candy-floss, smiling as she untwisted the knot of her own.
‘I think it’ll be fine, Zach. Honestly.’
They were just turning from the stand when darkened figures approached from the left, giggling and jostling each other. Louise and Debbie. Sophie’s heart sank.
‘Soph! Oh my god, you should so have come on the ‘Spin Doctor’ with us – it was amazing! The guys are waiting for us – we’re going on again; you should really come this time.’
Zach raised his dark eyes to her, candy-floss reddening his lips in a sugary hue and Sophie’s heart plummeted even further. This was so not cool.
‘We-ell – aren’t the fireworks about to start?’
They always stood gazing at the fireworks together, enraptured by the display...
Always.
‘Oh, come on, Sophie – fireworks, seriously?’
‘Yeah,’ Debbie agreed, ‘the fireworks are always the same every year – the rides are way more fun! And anyway, you’ll still be able to see the sky, won’t you?’
‘I don’t really think it’s the same, Debs.’ Sophie deadpanned, unable to help it.
‘Sophie, fireworks are for the little kids.’ Louise sniffed, shooting a dismissive look in Zach’s direction. ‘We came all the way over here to find you while the others went on the Twister; I can’t believe you’re being so... un-cool.’
Finally: the word was out in the open.
Sophie shrugged her shoulders, feigning nonchalance even as her blood boiled.
‘Sorry to be so disappointing, Lou, but I just bought candy-floss and Zach and I were planning to watch the fireworks. So... I guess I’ll just catch up with you guys later.’
Louise harrumphed, while Debbie just stared at her in complete amazement, as though Sophie had just sprouted four more arms.
‘You’re seriously going to hang with him? He’s a kid.’
‘So? Since when were you two too cool for fireworks and playing games?’
‘You’re being so lame, Sophie.’ Was all Louise could manage in retort. Ever the peacemaker, Debbie eyed her one last time, gesturing back towards the garish glow of the carni rides.
‘Come on, Sophie, seriously. We just want to have a laugh and it’s not like he’s your responsibility. Do you seriously want to spend all night babysitting and not even getting paid for it?’
‘You know what?’ Zach’s face had crumpled at their words and suddenly Sophie stared at her friends as though seeing them for the first time; they weren’t the same Lou and Debs from reception class, from their first day at high school, even from last summer. She didn’t like it – and she didn’t want to be a part of it anymore either, even if it meant teen-clique suicide. ‘Why don’t you two just grow
Something splintered in that moment; strangely Sophie didn’t care. For a long moment, Louise and Debbie stared her out, eyes narrowed in shock. Then, shaking their heads, they stalked back towards the rides, leaving Sophie alone with Zach, the candy-floss suddenly tasting like grit on her tongue.
‘Are they your friends?’ Zach piped up finally, watching the retreating backs of her so-called best mates. ‘Because... you know... They’re not really very nice.’
‘No,’ Sophie snorted. ‘I guess they’re not really very nice at all...’
‘Not like you,’ Zach continued, earnest gaze lifting Sophie’s leaden heart from its drowning point deep within her chest. ‘I think you’re the coolest person I know, Sophie. Hey, can we call the phoenix “Sophie” too? You know, when it hatches.’
And that was it, right there, captured in his cheerful, unknowing wisdom. Sophie’s black cloud lifted like the smoke wisping from the bonfire’s heart of ashes and she laughed, Louise and Debbie and their sickening sixteenth transformation temporarily forgotten in light of Zach’s chatter... until Sophie finally felt the truth of his words hit her like the warmth from the flames.
She was cool.
If Louise and Debbie couldn’t see what they were missing, who cared? She loved fireworks, reading, basketball, candy-floss, pretending to see phoenix eggs in the free-range egg box with Zach... And it was cool – because she didn’t want to hide any of it. Why should she? Things changed; Louise and Debbie were proof of that, and maybe Sophie herself was too... But if she had to choose between laughing with Zach and screaming with all those other fakers...? Well. She knew the answer to that – and always would.
Always.
Huge bangs and whistles snapped their focus up to the night sky, a black backcloth illuminated suddenly in bright ochre and gilt colours as the fireworks exploded to sprinkle the stars with flame-trails. Green, blue, purple, gold, white; the colours shone and sputtered in giant arcs and waterfalls down to the horizon, exploding from one small missile at a time to erupt in showers with colossal booms – the most beautiful sight silhouetted against the darkness of November. All faces in the crowd around them were upturned to the display, with even the adults transported back to childish delight as their eyes sparkled in the flickering lights. Sophie swapped a glance with Zach, whose face was alight as the Catherine wheels began spinning at the base of the football pitch and a fountain of silvery, sherbet-like firework fronds spouted higher and higher in the wake of the rockets shooting above.
Sophie stood with the rest, eyes lifted skyward and chin held high. Cool, always.
And then, without warning, the bonfire – like a flaming throne seated between the flying Catherine wheels – exploded, huge flames streaking up towards the sky, a pyre of smoky black, burning orange and blood red. It stretched and stretched, seemingly trying to burn heaven with its golden fingers – and then, as it began to sink back down in a languid, heaving breath, a second shower of flames shot out, tattooed against the inky black depths of the night. Curling and curving, pirouetting and preening, the flames formed a clear shape, burning and smouldering as the crowd below gasped and pointed and applauded in sheer amazement at the astounding pyrotechnics.
It was a bird – huge wings fashioned of ruby red and gold flecked flaming feathers; its eyes were the deep crimson, ringed in ebony, like the heart of a fire, and the plumage of its tale burned in glowing embers. Above its head, the final cluster of rockets and Chinese dragon explosions whizzed and thundered, shrouding the flaming, flapping bird in a shower of rainbow sparks; smoking, it journeyed ever higher, head aimed skyward towards the stars, the horizon, the world...
Sophie stared at the phoenix open-mouthed; beside her, Zach beamed and waved a hand ecstatically up at the disappearing sight.
‘See! I told you it was a phoenix egg!’
‘I – I –’ Words failed her, but Zach didn’t seem to notice, finger tracing the fire-bird’s progress further and further, deeper and deeper, into the night, trailing a tail of flame like a shooting star across the sky. His voice rang out above everything else; excited, full of life and, above all, so, so unknowingly wise.
‘Isn’t it the coolest thing you ever saw? Sophie!’
Ace and Noah
From the day Noah met Ace, there had been problems where food was concerned.
It always proved to be an issue; whenever Noah placed his food within feet of his dog, the dish would immediately be in danger. There had been countless times wherein food had gone missing - whether or not Noah was present at the time was of no consequence. Ace simply didn’t care.
The most famous incident amongst Noah and his friends was the night he had finally got Hazel from the office to come over for dinner. The chicken that had been marinating overnight in a sauce - almost impossible to perfect - had been left on the counter, waiting to be placed into the oven… Only to be swallowed whole by one naughty dog. Noah reflected that the plate would have gone too if Ace had been able to get his teeth into it.
Ace never left Noah’s side, though. Despite mischievous behaviour, and Noah’s tendency to bring young ladies back to his flat after vodka soaked nights out, the two understood one another.
Noah had met Ace by chance. Perhaps, in retrospect, Ace had known what he had been doing all along. He had snuck in through the rickety back door that never quite clicked shut, back when Noah had lived in student accommodation. That was a good four years ago, and through feeding the stray red setter cheap dog food and scraps from the table, a bond was formed.
Which was why today had been so nightmarish.
Ace had disappeared during his walk; become a distant rusty orange dot amongst the green of distant fields, and Noah had shouted and shouted. What was his one bedroom, lacking-in-character flat without his beloved Ace?
It wasn’t difficult for panic to set in when your best friend popped out of your life like a rogue bulb or missing house key. Noah extensively searched anywhere and everywhere in proximity to his home, his voice growing higher and more strained with panic each time he called his dog’s name. This couldn’t be happening, it just couldn’t. He couldn’t live without his dog, he couldn’t bear it.
…Until the fortunate moment that Ace did return. The relief had been more painful than weightless, but Noah had accepted it, and moved on. It wasn’t worth thinking more on the matter. His dog was safe and sound after all.
In theory, the problems should have ended there, in the frustrated reunion by the front door of Noah’s grotty block of flats – sweaty, red faced owner greeting filthy dog - one hugging and swearing, the other wagging an excited tail against the floor.
The problems should have ended there – but in fact, that was where they started.
*
“I thought we understood each other,” Noah muttered, rubbing his fingers between Ace’s ears, the two of them lounged together on the sagging leather sofa; TV blaring, unfinished dinner abandoned on the coffee table. “You broke the trust today, Ace.”
Ace groaned in return, a sound that, while animalistic, was laced with regret. Said groan was followed by a hard, throaty cough, and Noah pulled a face.
“No need to overdo it.”
Ace coughed again, and his tongue lolled, teeth bared. Something caught in his throat? Noah sat up, a concerned frown knitting his eyebrows together. “Have you been sneaking chicken bones out of the bin again?”
Again, Ace groaned, but impatiently, and Noah firmly took hold of the dog’s snout, prising his jaws open to peer down into the black gummed depths of Ace’s throat; nothing to see and yet as Noah inspected, Ace wretched, and gave a heavy, honking cough. Something wasn’t right.
It only took one sleepless night of overheard choking hacks for Noah to make an executive decision.
*
“We got the X-rays back,” the vet explained a week later, when Noah and Ace had returned for the results. The coughing had subsided since, but something was still wrong.
&n
“See this?” The very-serious-vet tapped the ghostly print of Ace’s insides and Noah squinted. There was something in Ace’s stomach: small like an eraser and obviously out of place.
“What is-” He began, only for the very-serious-vet to talk over him in an authoritative voice that had no place in a veterinary practise.
“It looks like a memory stick, or USB drive. Why would your dog have eaten such a thing, Mr Parks?”
Noah’s face screwed up in confusion, and he turned his bemused stare onto Ace, who wagged his tail – heavy thumps on the sterile table. He sounded amused and Noah scowled.
“It’s not funny.”
“The coughing was because the drive lodged itself in Ace’s throat. Thankfully it wasn’t large enough to cause a major issue, but now that’s it’s reached the bowels, it’s causing-”
“I keep all my USB drives in a drawer,” Noah insisted, taking the moment to gain some control by interrupting. He knew what he said was fact. He owned three USB drives. One for boring work presentations, one for film scripts he’d never finish, and one for… private entertainment. The vet rolled his eyes, clearly of the opinion already that Noah was an inconsiderate kid, who enjoyed force feeding his dog USB drives. Ace bristled, sensing the attitude, but Noah gave the scruff of his neck a soothing tug.
The vet held up a slip of paper between two fingers.
“Laxatives,” he said, eyes betraying just how bored he was of the situation, “should send the drive straight out.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Noah muttered, snatching the paper. Ace sniffed it and licked his owner’s hand. As they headed towards the desk, Noah tried to think how Ace could have got to one of his USB sticks, why he had eaten it at all, and as well as that, which one it was.