Chapter One

7 Days After

“We are gathered here today in dedication and memorial of Vincent Christopher…” Bear began, interrupted only by the occasionally sniffs of the others, “AKA Coco.” He had an unusually loud voice for one so small.

“I will never forget you, Cocoykins, every time you greeted me you had a grin on your face” George liked to emphasise, seemingly random, words. No one knew why.

“This one time I felt really sad, and you just knew, Coco, you just knew and you came running and you hugged me and told me everything was okay and it was.” Lexi breathed into a tissue.

“You were awesome, dude.” Oz added hastily.

“Cabbage,” Bear boomed, “Would you like to say anything?”

Cabbage mumbled something that sounded like “Mushu” but was probably ‘I miss you’ she never spoke very clearly.

And then Bear sparked a match and lit a few yellow and blue candles before setting alight to the plastics, papers and cottons that made up Coco’ favourite things: his worn blanket; the bear he used to chew on; his football; his lead; his favourite shampoo (the pink L’Oreal). It stank but they all stayed and stood, looking very solemn. The abandoned room began to fill with fumes which made their eyes water, but the tears just made the situation all the more perfect. After a few minutes George announced, “Shouldn’t we put the fire out?” Bear agreed, “Before we burn the whole shack down”. They doused the flames with the flat 10p cola they had leftover and filed out of the room one by one. Lexi collected the remains of French fancies into a plastic bag, Coco’ favourite, and put her arm around Cabbage who was still staring at the cola soaked remains of her beloved Coco. Cabbage’s strawberry blonde fringe just covered her eyes enough so Lexi couldn’t tell if she was crying or not.

“Lex…”

“Yeah, kid?”

“I never told him I loved him.” Her voice reflected a person much older than her 12 and three quarter years.

“I know,” Lexi gave her a little squeeze, “But he knew, you could see it in his eyes, his big soft brown eyes” Cabbage smiled faintly and detached herself from Lexi. She grabbed her soft brown leather bag filled with things beyond her years and stepped out of The Shack, and made off through the trees. Bear and Oz sat in their usual spot outside The Shack lighting three cigarettes on a last remaining broken match.

“One for Coco” Oz explained as Lexi drifted over towards them.

“He didn’t smoke” She replied monotonously.

“He enjoyed the smell though”

“That’s true…” She breathed in deep and took the third lit cigarette from its place on the moss-coated stone. She scrambled up and stood on the highest part of The Shack’s outer foundations, long since referred to as ruins. She inhaled the cheap nicotine and scouted for Cabbage, finding her in a tree with George. He always treated her nicely. The other two boys could be quite nasty, but she was their adopted sister without a doubt. George was a lot more like an uncle. Not quite fatherly but not quite brotherly. Lexi sat down with her face to the sun and breathed in deep the humid summer air. She could hear crickets and starlings and pigeons. These woods weren’t particularly big, but they were big enough to hide them from the world. Coco had loved him. He loved running around them freely, climbing the foundations and chasing squirrels, yapping at rabbit holes. He was only 6, just a pup, really.

Lexi stubbed out her cigarette after smoking it through to the filter and hopped down from the foundation. They all stared at the trees, bright green in the glaring afternoon sun. Sweat trickled down their foreheads, trapped heat prickling their skin. There was no breeze today and the silence was unbearable.

George wandered closer, Cabbage trailing behind him still hiding in her fringe. He was the first to break the silence.

“F**k, Lex. The wood’s so quiet without him.”

“Ahknorite?” was all she could muster in response. Cabbage had barely strung together a whole sentence since it happened, and she was usually the loudest, fastest talking one. It made the whole thing that much more awful; awful and quiet.

“Any Totov left?”

“I think a bottle… not sure, why?”

“Well they gave us the day off tomorrow, may as well spend it hanging”

“I see your point”

“And I raise you TOTOV” Oz exclaimed. The boys laughed at the in-joke. When Lexi first met them at the age of 15 she couldn’t handle her drink, and certainly didn’t understand the rules of Poker. Trying to gamble with an empty bottle of un-named spirit had earned her the name ‘Poker Fail’. That only lasted a week until the next “Doyy Moment”. To date she had been given so many nicknames that they usually just referred to her as Lex.

“Cab-“

“Don’t tell parents”

“Thanks, kid”

There was a moment’s contemplation before Cabbage came out with “When can I smoke and drink and drive like you guys?”

All at once the silence of the forest that afternoon was broken. Even Cabbage started laughing. They cackled and laughed and it echoed around the trees. It helped and they felt slightly better. They knew that Coco would not have wanted them to be sad about his dying. He loved it when they laughed, when they got drunk and fell into hysteric fits of stomach bruising, ear splitting, throat raking laughter. He always tried to join in, in his own little way; which was mainly just being very loud for a while. They could never get him to shut up.

“Cab” Oz said wiping tears from his eyes “When you reach 13 we’ll have a ritual party and an initiation ceremony and you can have an alcopop or something. Sound alright?”

Her face lit up and nodded furiously.

“But kid,” Bear added, “you’re not allowed a cigarette until you’re at least 15, that’s when most of us started anyway” He laughed hoarsely then, intentionally adding to the effect of the “smoker’s lung”. They all started coughing and spluttering.

“I’ve got black luuuuung!” Oz yelled as he fell on the floor fake gasping for air and reaching out for Lexi’s hand. He pulled her over and she started gasping too. Soon they were all on the floor gasping under the sarcastic arch of Cabbage’s eyebrow.

“Stop taking the piss”

“Noooo, I really have black luuuuung!” They all wailed. The wails soon turned into cackles of laughter again though, which carried on and got much louder throughout the night after a few glasses of cheap cola and Totov; the spirit of unknown origin (they guessed Russia, “Silly Russians”).

They always teased each other about smoking, drinking, being young and everything else, but they were as close friends as you could get. It was noted that they always hung out together; always played pranks on each other and that they could always be found at The Shack.

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