A Pair of Lost Socks

But don't start any shit, little brother...

Greggory pointed to the Australian Greens political sticker on the rear of Annie's Pajero and spoke loudly, "Look there, Maxie, the bloody hypocrisy of our sister, telling the world to save the forests and stop this global warming bullshit while driving around in her four-wheel drive."

"Yeah, I know," Max said in a sarcastic tone, "Never realised our sister was a greenie till you pointed it out just now. Perhaps she should get one of those little Toyota Prius electric hybrid cars to tow her horse float, and concrete the several kilometre goat track to her property too."

"Come on, Maxie, don't take her side on this."

Max smiled. "I ain't takin' anyone's side, cobber. I always remind her you're doin' your bit for the environment by keeping your pretend four-wheel drive as far from the bush as you possibly can so as not to do any more damage to the environment."

"Nothing pretend about the Land Rover, cobber," Greggory said, patting the bonnet of his spotlessly clean vehicle. "I have more than a few clients with properties and worse roads than Annie's, so I drive on plenty of dirt."

"Mum's driveway doesn't count," Max said with a grin, pointing to the rear of the Land Rover hanging over the grassy foot-path. "By the way, you couldn't park any closer to the road could ya? I mean, why let anyone use all this empty space up the side of Mum's house to park when you can have it all to ya self?"

"There's a whole street out here for them, cobber," Greggory said. Turning to his wife, he muttered loudly, "See, Bev, I told you if it weren't Annie laying into me straight up, it'd be me own brother."

Bev offered an awkwardly apologetic smile, whispering across the lawn to them, "I told him he should park up a bit closer to the house or out on the street."

Greggory huffed at his wife. "First me brother, now you're not even gonna take my side..."

"Come on, Greggory, it's all a bit of fun," Max said, limping forward, and Greggory grunted while Max smiled at his sister-in-law, greeting her in a genuinely friendly tone, kissing her cheek. "Hello, Bev."

"Hello, Max," she replied, smiling, half embracing him back. "You're looking well."

Max smiled at Beverly, and his brother interrupted in a somewhat boorish manner, "Yeah, g'day, Max. I'll bloody re-park, in case anyone else wants to have a whinge. Wouldn't want anyone parking me in, anyway. Might have to make a quick getaway."

Max chuckled and they shook hands, Max still matching his younger brother's crushing grip after all these years. "Like you say, there's a whole street out here, cobber. So play nicely, for Mum's sake."

Again Greggory grunted and climbed back into his Land Rover, revving its turbo-diesel and reversing out, while Bev greeted Heather, looking to her belly. "Heather, I heard the news, you are glowing...you look fantastic..."

"Hey, Aunty Bev, I'm hardly even showing yet..."

Tim and Bev greeted one another too, and soon more relatives arrived; Greggory and Bev's adult children, and Annie's kids and grandkids as well, Max's nieces and nephews with their families. Greggory walked with his immediate family up the side of the house to the back yard, and Max, Heather, Tim and King followed at a discrete distance, and a slight drizzle began to fall.

At the far end of the backyard the timber barn-like shed drew Max's attention, the barely perceptible faded cricket stumps painted on the right hand door. Max and Greggory painted them there in their childhood, and he recalled the countless summer hours playing cricket with his brother and mates, and sometimes his father joined them when time permitted, and even Annie did on the rare occasion she wasn't riding her ponies about the back paddock, or doing the countless chores expected of women in those days.

The grass in the yard was long now, not neatly trimmed like when it was Max and Greggory's childhood chore to keep it short, and towards the rear of the shed's wall was the lean-to half stocked with firewood. Cutting logs for firewood was another chore, making them strong from a young age, and Max wondered if his mother would have enough timber to last the winter.

The vegetable patch by the shed, the one young Max had helped his father and mother tend each year, was still in use but overtaken with the weeds of summer and early autumn now. The old chicken coup was no longer occupied, it's timbers rotting away and wire rusting in the corner, while along the rear fence grew the small apple orchard Max also recalled tending with his mother and father when he was a child, branches laden with red fruit ready for harvest, which was another chore he'd taken on with characteristic humour, eating apples as he went.

Max sometimes believed he'd grown up on apples, and garden-grown vegies too, with mutton or pork, and beef or lamb or fish if they were lucky, and if not so lucky, the occasional wallaby or rabbit when meat was scarce, hunting them with his father. They'd never starved, his father seeing to that; a man who'd experienced being starved to near death, their father made sure they ate every skerrick of food on their plates every meal before they were allowed to leave the table. It was one of the few house-rules, and consequently, the Coughlan children each grew tall and strong with bulging muscles and healthy complexions, their childhoods wild and free.

Now Max looked to Greggory, who was still tall and perhaps he was still strong, but he clearly didn't lack food these days either, because he was fat now, a big man with a big belly, and soft where he'd once been hard, like Max was once powerfully hard, back in their youth.

But Max wasn't fat, he was thin, and broken too, swinging his prosthetic leg, limping and leaning on his walking stick. Heather, who was tall and strong and tough and lean, muscly and athletic, walked at his side and ready to help if he were to fall. Distracting himself, he said to her, "The apple trees are dripping with fruit. We should pick a whole bunch before we leave."

She nodded, and pointed to the blackberry bush running rampant in the corner of the yard. "Maybe pick some blackberries too."

Greggory turned to Max as he walked. "Mum won't let me graze the cattle in the house yard to keep the bloody grass and blackberries down."

"They your cows?" Max said, pointing to the handful of black and white cows grazing in the back paddock across the fence. A brown mare with white splotches stood in the paddock too, with her equally brown and white splotchy fresh foal, still finding its lanky legs, mum's ears swivelling in the direction of people walking and talking.

"Yeah, what of it?" Greggory grumbled defensively. "Annie's keeping her horses here too these days..."

Max chuckled. "I was just askin' if they were your cows, not havin' a go."

"Yeah, okay, Maxie."

"But they're fine lookin' beasts, Greg," Max chuckled again, knowing his brother disliked the shortened version of his name for some reason. "About ready for market, don't ya think? If they stay in the paddock any longer they're eatin' all the horses' grass for no reason at all."

Some relative's chuckled and Greggory said, "I see what ya getting' at, Maxie. Tell me, the old bomb of yours is still in the shed, taking up room. Worth a mint I reckon if someone were to actually look after it. Might do it up meself and flog it off?"

"Touch Her and you'll be eating out of a tube with ya jaw wired shut," Max said, but with a laugh, and there were more chuckles, increasingly awkward with the aggressive brotherly banter. Heather elbowed Max gently in the side, and he shrugged and whispered, "What?"

"Play nicely, remember."

Max muttered, "Greg and Annie both have their stuff here, so what's wrong with me storing the old Girl here too?"

"That's not a nice thing to say about Nana," Heather whispered with a cheeky grin.

Max's laugh was hearty, and several of his nieces and nephews and their children turned to see what he was laughing at. He grinned, then whispered to Heather again, "I should pull Her tarp off, get a battery and turn Her over and see if She still goes."

"You should, and maybe you can borrow a trailer and we can bring Her back to my place so you can fix Her up, because Greggory might actually try sell Her one of these days."

"He's all talk...and anyway, I have me own personal police officer who's a witness to his desires to lay his grubby fingers on Her."

"I hope I don't ever have to be involved in arresting me own rellos," she whispered as quietly as possible.

The family entered the house via the back veranda, where Max waited for the entire Coughlan clan to walk up the steps ahead of him. Tim tied King on his long leash in the yard under the eave at the corner of the veranda, with a bowl water and promise to take him for a walk after lunch.

Again Max looked to the shed his father built many years before he was born, noting how several more of the old and rotting vertical palings used as cladding had fallen into the long grass since his last visit a year ago.

Politely shrugging off Heather's offer of help, Max climbed the steps, entering into his world of nostalgia, the little house he grew up in, with smells of roasts and baking vegetables and stews, taking him back to Sundays of his youth.

But it was Saturday today, his mother Norma's eighty-first birthday, and the house was full of family, his sister Annie slaving away in the kitchen, Heather immediately offering her assistance, as did Annie's daughter, Karen.

Max entered the lounge room to find his Mother among the small crowd, sitting in her favourite chair by the window, her craggy face and pale blue eyes lit by the glare despite the grey skies and drizzle outside. Several logs burned in the brick fireplace, warming the increasingly crowded room, as adults and children alike filled the space. While he waited his turn, he considered his father's giant two-man cross-cut saw, as long as a man was tall and with fearsome jagged teeth, hanging above the hearth's mantel for as long as he could remember. And on the heavy timber mantel piece sat several old photographs of his powerfully built father and somewhat younger mother, and of them together as a family with young Annie and Greggory, Max himself a boy with rosy-red cheeks, curly blond hair and cherubic smile.

Soon Heather and Tim joined him to greet his mother, wishing her a happy birthday. Still a tough old bird, Max thought, and she said, "You're looking better than I've seen you in a while, Maxie."

"Exercise, Mum. I borrow Heather's kayak and we go swimming and I'm even doing weights again."

"And he's given up smoking," Heather added.

"And here I was hoping to sneak a cigarette off you," Norma whispered to Max.

He laughed. "Sorry, Mum, but Heather would kill me."

"Like yer father was, you are," Norma said. "Strong as an ox and wrapped around your daughter's finger."

As if on cue, Annie entered the room and asked for help with setting the table and dishing up the food, and Tim offered his assistance. Greggory told his twin six-year old granddaughters to go help too, and Annie frowned, pointing to Greggory's nine year-old grandson who sat in the corner staring at his iPad, and she asked, "Perhaps the boys could also help?"

A minor argument ensued, where Greggory said the boy was already occupied while the girls were doing nothing, and Annie told Greggory he was sexist, and Greggory laughed, calling Annie a crazy hypocrite under his breath, but deliberately loud enough so people about him would hear. Max told them they were both being unreasonable, because there was enough help between Tim and the twins, and the girls actually weren't doing anything else, and there was no need to act like children.

Annie frowned at both her younger brothers, then shrugged and headed back to the kitchen, Heather giving Max a frown before following her Aunt, and Greggory proclaimed, "Bloody women, can't live with 'em and can't live without 'em," and earned a frown from Bev plus a weak rebuke from their daughter, Jolene.

"To think you all used to get on so well when you were children," Norma said to Max with a hint of sadness in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Mum. We're all so different, I s'pose."

"No yer not, Maxie. You're all so similar, and when you come here you fall back into the same rolls you played fifty or more years ago. You just don't recognise it."

Fifty or more years ago...when you put it like that...Jesus...

The twin girls set the ancient Tasmanian oak dining table, covering its straw-coloured timber with a light-blue floral patterned table cloth, plus covering several cheap trestle tables set up in the small dining space too, while Heather and Tim helped dish up the food, and Annie fussed and stressed and ordered people about the entire time.

Lunch was eaten, where the overflow of Norma's great grandchildren sat on the floor in the lounge room with trays on their laps, knives and forks clinking on plates, and lots of chatter. Discussions among the adults turned to the coronavirus; debates over its severity and threat to health, where some family members appeared cautious, others asserting it'll all blow over, stating it's no worse than the flu and how everyone's over reacting. Despite the disagreements, everyone agreed the people hoarding and even fighting over toilet paper in supermarkets were crazy.

Max heard Tim speaking to one of Heather's cousins, Rodney, who was Greggory's son and a plumber by trade, trying to explain the disease was to be taken seriously and perhaps they should all be more cautious. Tim used the fact he was a nurse working in the emergency department to justify his arguments, however, it appeared Tim was getting nowhere, where Rodney argued against every point.

Further up the table, Greggory and his son-in-law, Shaun, who was Jolene's husband, were in a discussion about real estate, which was Greggory's business, and they inserted themselves into Tim and Rodney's conversation, giving more than their two cents worth of opinion, telling Tim how the virus was spooking politicians, saying the fear could drive off foreign investments in property markets and cause a general economic downturn.

Then someone reminded them of the suspected source of the disease, and many around the table began prefacing a sentences with the words, "I'm not racist, but...," then launching into racist statements.

Tim gave up, turning to Heather to speak about other things, and others in the room outright ignored the increasingly conspiracy theory laden and racist discussion, Greggory's wife Bev keeping quiet the entire time, embarrassed, her face turning red. Even Annie kept her mouth shut despite shaking her head. Soon Greggory looked over to Max, asking, "Isn't Ryan seeing some Chinese girl up in Brisbane?"

"Yeah, what of it?"

"Come off it, you know...all this talk about the virus we've been discussing."

"No I don't know, Greg? What's Ryan's girlfriend being Chinese got to do with anything?"

Greggory smirked. "Come on, you know as well as I do..."

"Mate," Tim said, interrupting Greggory, "Ryan's girlfriend Georgina is as Australian as you or me." Max saw the steel in Tim's eyes, and Heather's also, and despite Tim's calmly spoken demeanour, other conversations died, given he was an outsider challenging one of their own.

"Come on, cobber," Shaun answered before Greg could. "We all have Asian friends who are great individuals, but you know, we're not talking about them, are we."

Heather spoke before Tim could, her voice calm but eyes glaring at both Shaun and her Uncle Greggory, and even her silent crimson-faced Aunt Bev who looked like she might crawl under the table to hide. "But you are talking about them, and you know it. You've implied a connection between Ryan's girlfriend and the virus, because she happens to have Chinese ancestry, which has nothing to do with anything you're discussing. And while you're at it, you should know Georgina's one of Tim's closest friends from before Ryan knew either of them, so please cut this racist chatter and let's talk about something else. This is Nana's birthday, after all."

Greggory smiled the kind of smile he might use when selling a house to a difficult customer. "Heather, darlin', please tell me how this discussion was racist when we're talkin' about..."

Anger flashed across Heather's hardened face and Max could tell she was about to reply in harsher terms, with everyone in the room looking at them, perhaps in fascination, knowing confrontation was brewing, and he knew it was time to step in, cutting Greggory off. "Greg, we all know what you were implying and we don't need your opinions right now, especially not on Mum's birthday, so can you please..."

"Come on, Max, you used to say all these things about the...!"

Annie cut Greggory off this time, speaking through clenched teeth. "We all know what you were implying, Greg, so shut it. And don't go callin' women darling, it's condescending."

"Jesus, you don't sound half condescending now, tellin' me what I can and can't say. Bloody like when we were all kids, you still thinkin' yer in charge. You shame our family with ya pretend greenie bullshit, and Maxie too...husk of his former self..."

"Stop it right now," Annie hissed. "This is Mum's birthday and yer embarrassing yourself."

Greggory gave an exaggerated sigh. "Okay, sure, but Dad would be spinning in his grave, you and your crusade against logging and all of you defending foreigners over yer own."

"Dad never said nothin' bad against anyone," Max growled, "So don't bring him into this..."

"Oh, yes he did, he didn't come away from Singapore and the Thai-Burma Railway without scars and a bit of hate, tough as he was, but not even the Japs could kill him, though God knows they tried..."

"Don't bring Dad into this discussion," Annie said, "He'd not approve of what you're doing."

Norma sat at the head of the table, her pale eyes following her adult children as they spoke, and she said, "Why is it, whenever you three get together these days you end up bickering like you're children again? It's my birthday and I want you to all get along, even if it's only for today."

Max and Greggory stared at one another, while Annie glared at Greggory too. Greggory shrugged and looked to Norma and said, "Sorry, Mum," then turned away, whispering with Shaun, who whispered back while looking around at everyone awkwardly.

The conversations were slow to resume, and some did, but not all. After lunch Annie produced a round sponge cake with pink icing and two candles on top, an eight and a one, and everyone sang happy birthday to Norma as if the lunchtime shenanigans never happened.

After cake, several of Norma's granddaughters helped clear up, including Heather and some of her cousins, the women sharing muffled discussions about the argument, and others, including Greggory's daughter Jolene and her husband Shaun, packed up their brood and left early.

The remaining men mostly moved into the lounge room, or went out the back for a smoke and drink, and Max sat in the single brown lounge chair, opposite his mother in front of the lounge room window, exactly where he used to sit as a child sometimes and watch his mother knit, or his father reading the newspaper while smoking his pipe on the rare occasions the man was relaxing.

He looked at his mother now, and smiled, watching her chat with Tim who squatted at her side, over-hearing them discussing Ryan and Georgina, who'd briefly become the centre of attention at lunch. Tim explained how Georgina was his friend with whom he'd studied nursing at university together, and later they'd ended up working at the same hospital too, becoming housemates for several years before Ryan moved in with them, all back in Brisbane.