A Pair of Lost Socks

Max nodded. "Makes sense. This shed's comin' apart. I can fix some of the timbers, but couldn't do it all by meself. And the house needs a paint...maybe Tim and Heather can help?"

"No, they're busy preparing for parenthood. I can organise a builder and painter."

"Best to demolish this shed."

"What about this old girl," Annie said, patting the edge of the passenger seat. "What'll you do with her?

"I should sell Her," he sighed. "Apparently they go for a good price these days. Bloody Greggory's eyin' Her off."

"He's been saying these things for years. He says it about my horses too. He's got his eye on anything he can immediately put a money value on."

"He's a shit stirrer."

"He learnt from the best." Annie looked to Max, giving him a smirk.

Max grinned back. "Yeah, we all got it from Dad."

Annie chuckled. "Dad was a shit stirrer, in a funny way. I s'pose you and Greggory used to be funny too, if I think extra hard beyond what annoying little buggers you were. But he's something else these days and takes it to the next level."

"He has more money than all of us put together, but still carries on like an entitled cun...prick."

Annie laughed. "You were right the first time, he's an entitled cunt alright, more money than sense. You think he'd be humble since we didn't exactly grow up with a whole lot. But I never understood what happened between you two. When we were kids you and he were thick as thieves, like best mates. After all, he even lived with you in Hobart for a year when he was eighteen or so, when his job at the mill down here fell through, but now I don't think you and he can stand the sight of each other."

"Yeah, I dunno." Then Max grinned. "Maybe because he's a Collingwood supporter?"

Annie nodded and smiled. "A legitimate reason, it wouldn't surprise me."

Still grinning, Max shook his head and sighed. "He found out about Bev and me, way back..."

"Wait, what? You and Bev!"

Max chuckled. "You know he met Bev when he lived with me back in eighty-three or eighty-four?"

"Yes...I vaguely knew how they met, I think..."

"She was, ah, a friend of mine. Hung out with us all down the footy club, and for a while we were each other's regular hook up..."

"You used to sleep with Bev? Seriously?"

"We didn't exactly sleep most of the time. It was way back, before I met Yvonne, or Greggory met Bev for that matter. Um, Bev liked a bit of fun. She was always hanging about at our parties and used to bang like a dunny door."

"Wow...as did you, you had a reputation. Friends used to tell me half the women up in Hobart had lain on the back seat of this...argghh, I don't want to think about you and Bev!"

"More than half," Max chuckled, nodding, recalling his sister-in-law in the year before he'd introduced her to his brother, long brown hair down to her bum, bright blue eyes, big bouncy tits and a smile to die for, riding his cock, letting him use her, using him in this very cabin more times than he could count, all for fun and they'd never even discussed becoming a serious item. He chuckled again, and said, "Bev's no stranger to the seat behind us, she goes off like a frog in a sock..."

"I don't need to hear anymore," Annie said, and Max kept chuckling, shaking his head.

"Anyway, those days were long gone by the time Bev and Greggory began seein' one another, because I'd already moved on. I genuinely always thought he knew about Bev and didn't care about her history. Turns out he didn't know about us, and Bev casually mentioned it some years ago without a second thought because she also assumed he already knew and wasn't fussed. He was gobsmacked with surprise, and apparently chucked a wobbly, and he's acted funny towards me ever since, even though I never looked at another woman once I met Vonnie, and Bev's never done the dirty on him either, at least as far as I know."

"Awww, Maxie, you're such a sweetie when you speak of Yvonne, even after all..."

She stopped and Max looked down at his lap, half smiling, shaking his head. "Yeah, anyway...now you know why Greggory picks fights with me too. And this is why he hasn't invited me around to his joint in years...now he's a ..." Max stopped himself from saying, sad middle aged man, because then he'd feel like a hypocrite. "He's someone who's not content unless he's whinging...it started the moment he arrived, pointing out ya Greens sticker on the back of ya Pajero and talkin' shit about you being a hypocrite."

"Like he always does. I drive a Pajero to tow my horse float, and I'd bet it sees more dirt roads in a day than his Land Rover's seen in its life."

"He reckons his sees dirt roads all the time."

"He rarely leaves Hobart, selling houses, but he mostly manages the business and never deals in rural properties."

Max wiped his finger through the dust on the dash. "Since this is a pissing contest, my car's seen more dirt than all of yours combined."

Annie smiled. "Doesn't let out any greenhouse gasses these days either."

"You had to find your greenie angle somehow, didn't ya?"

"You know it was Dad who made me think green?"

"Big Lennie Coughlan," Max chuckled, "Champion axeman and saw-miller, not to mention survivor of Japanese prison camps, making you a greenie?"

"It's true," Annie said in a tone suggesting she was surprised at Max's surprise. "Dad used to take me for walks in the forest and he could name every single plant, from tree to bush to fern. He could name all the animals too. He'd tell me all about the forests our family's logged, from the West Coast where our ancestors first sailed through Hell's Gate to be dumped at the arse end of the Earth, forced to cut timber around Macquarie Harbour and the Gordon, then how they chose to live the same life once they were pardoned, and eventually settled over this side of the island. Cutting timber's the only thing every generation until ours knew. But Dad insisted they only took the best and left the rest. Then when he returned from the war, forestry was changing and they were using machines to clear-fell whole forests, taking everything and the machines taking over the work of several men. He didn't approve and he'd tell me he thought things were changing for the worse and how he feared for the future."

"He used to tell me all these things too, but Dad's the one who encouraged me to seek out my diesel mechanic's apprenticeship..."

"Yeah, because he saw your interest in pulling apart and rebuilding engines when you were a kid, and how you were obsessed with the logging trucks and tractors and machines at the mill, and he knew the future was already machines, like we know computers are so important for the future for our kids and grandkids now, so he packed you off to Hobart."

"Encouraged, not packed. I could've stayed and worked in the mill or forest like he'd done for more than forty years by then."

"Like Greggory tried? Dad hoped to steer Greggory away from the mill too, but Greggory's never shown interest in much other than football, and he followed Dad into the mill because he knew no better, despite Dad's best efforts to interest him in other things."

"And now he's more successful than any of us..."

"Money wise, sure, but is he really successful?"

Max thought for a moment. "Dunno. All he ever does is complain."

"And you don't." It was a statement of truth, not a sarcastic rhetorical question.

"What do I have to complain about? I'm no one special."

Annie turned to Max. "You're special to your family, Max. See, you don't complain because you don't think it's worthwhile to do so, because you believe no one cares. And our brother complains exactly because he thinks he should always have a better deal, no matter how easy it's worked out for him with the pieces of his life falling into place. We all know he ended up in real estate more by luck than anything else when he moved to Hobart, but now he's a complete know-it-all and thinks everything's down to his own hard work and intelligence, and things should always go right for people if they have the same attitude as him, even if he never seems happy."

Max frowned. "Don't begrudge his successes, Annie."

"I'm not," she replied, seemingly taken aback, "I'm really not. I just don't think it's fair sometimes, because he has...everything with minimal effort, and he still whinges like there's no tomorrow, and then my own marriage fell apart, then there's you and your...."

"My son and leg and marriage?"

"Yeah, your leg...and Yvonne...and Justin...I'm sorry, Max."

"Don't be, it's simply how things are." They were silent again, then Max said, "I can't push the clutch in."

"Pardon?"

He play the steering wheel back and forth, then shifted the gearstick, and tried to move his left prosthetic, and said, "I'd get this old Girl goin' again in a heartbeat if I could just change gears. But me leg's rooted..."

"Heather says you do this every time you come here....you could put an auto gear-box in. I know you drive Heather's Subaru sometimes."

"Shhhhhhh," Max said, smiling. "Sacrilege! My old Girl's all genuine...well, mostly."

Annie chuckled. "What are you going to do with Her?"

"Maybe I can borrow a trailer, take Her up to Heather's....but there's no room in her garage to work on Her."

"And Heather has enough on her plate, with the baby coming."

"And Tim's busy at work too, and this disease will probably make things even busier. He and Heather are worried, as you probably know."

Annie sighed. "We're all worried."

"'Cept our brother and his mob."

"He's worried too, but for business reasons."

"Business?"

"Yeah, business." Annie drew breath sharply through pursed lips, then blew it out, forcefully. "His comments earlier are rather ironic, because one minute he's welcoming foreign investment like you'd think he'd invite the entire world here to buy property, especially the Chinese, then the next he's making racist comments about all the foreigners coming here...and then what he said about Ryan's girlfriend, and acting like he wasn't being a racist...much in the same way he and you'd act innocent when you were kids."

"Yeah...I should ignore him."

"No, you shouldn't. It's not our fault our brother's a dickhead, Maxie."

They were silent again, giving Max time to think for a moment. "Heather's thinking of heading up the coast to spend some time with Yvonne if this thing blows up."

"I guess she's worried about her unborn baby?"

"Yep. Tim's worried he'll be on the front line when the virus comes and doesn't want to bring it home to her or to me. He doesn't say anything to me, but I hear his and Heather's whispered conversations."

"Sounds reasonable, since none of us know what's going to happen." Annie was silent for a moment, thinking. "What about you? You obviously aren't welcome at Greggory and Bev's, even if Bev might be happy for you to stay."

Max chuckled and shook his head. "Greg thinks there's nothing to worry about anyway. I wouldn't be worrying either if Heather and Tim weren't so serious about it. She wondered if coming here was an option, but I know there's no room anymore and don't want to be in you or Mum's hair anyway."

Annie sighed. "I'd offer you my place, but, um...I guess I can tell you, but we aren't telling anyone else...Karen and Alex are separating and she's moving into my place."

"Oh, I had no idea about her and Alex having major issues."

"Like I said, we didn't tell anyone."

"Poor Lauren, she doesn't know, does she?"

"No, otherwise I'm sure she'd have told you when speaking earlier."

"She told me she watches football with her Dad and he swears."

"Alex swears and he drinks, and yells at the TV in front of Laurie and her bothers, or when he's playing video games, and then he yells at Karen sometimes too."

Max sighed, whispering, "I think Lauren told Heather her Uncle Dale grows pot."

"And this is the other big issue. Dale's Alex's mate and he's not a good guy..."

"Maybe Karen could use a copper about, for safety sake if need be? I'm sure Heather would..."

"No, Max, Heather's pregnant and will be dealing with motherhood soon enough. She and Karen were talking earlier, and they used to be close back when they were kids, so perhaps they'll become close again and talk some more, but I don't want Heather caught up in it."

"We could organise..."

"Can't fix everything, Max," Annie said, shaking her head. They were silent again, and after a while Annie asked, "What about Yvonne?'

"She won't take me."

"But even if she says yes to Heather, Heather won't leave you behind."

"I'll tell her to go to her Mum's, even if she doesn't want to."

"Since when have us Coughlan's ever listened to our parents?"

He chuckled. "You got me there."

Two shadows crossed the shed doors and Heather and Tim stood there. "Speak of the devil, here are the two love birds, ready to take you home."

"Yep, I better go say bye to Mum."

"Yeah. I'll help you put the cover back on this old girl too."

~0~

April, 2020

"More cases up north today," Tim said, standing down the end of the hall in his boxers, drying his hair after a long shower. "It's those bloody cruise ships they let dock in Sydney."

Max could see Heather shrug and say, "Cat's out of the bag. I hope you're washing those clothes on the hottest setting."

"Trust me, I'm practically nuking them, so I'm sure they've shrunk and I'll probs have to buy new ones. Stop stressing about it."

"I'm not stressing, you are," Heather said, giving Tim a little nudge.

Tim kissed Heather's forehead. "You're totally stressing."

"I'm a little worried," she whispered, pulling him against her. "More than worried, to be frank."

"Don't be Frank, be Heather."

Heather chuckled. "The dad jokes are strong with you. It's a sign of things to come."

"Great things," Tim said with a grin.

Max sat on the lounge and couldn't help hear their muffled hallway discussion, worried voices mixed with loving laughter. He wanted to ask Tim if he knew anything about the health of his old friends, Darren and Maureen, both of whom returned on one of the cruise ships Tim mentioned, and were currently in hospital with Covid-19. But he'd wait till Tim came to him and volunteered any news.

They should've known better than to go on a cruise ship, he thought, then wondered, If I were in Darren and Maureen's position, would I have known any better? Heather would've at least cautioned me and Vonnie not to travel...

Heather and Tim were still talking, Heather saying, "I'd want to be around for you if you caught it, and wouldn't be so concerned about catching it myself under normal circumstances, but I don't want it to affect our little one. So, you know..."

"We've talked this over and over and we both agreed it's best for you to get out of town for a bit if it gets serious. I'm not upset you're going to your Mum's, Cogs, so stop apologising. There's talk of curfews and people are talking about travel restrictions and lockdowns, so sooner you get up there the better, otherwise you might be stuck here."

"My birthday next week's gonna suck without you," she said, leaning against Tim.

"We can Skype like we used to..."

"Everyone's talking about Zoom these days."

"Yeah, apparently. I hadn't even heard of Zoom till the other month."

"Since Dad and King are comin' with me, you sure you won't be too lonely here?"

Tim chuckled. "I'll sink piss every night, on the lounge in my undies, without having to worry about you gettin' up me about it...it'll be glorious! So your Mum's fine with it?"

"No, she isn't fine with it," Heather said, trying to contain laughter. "She totally doesn't want you sinking piss every night on our lounge in your undies!"

Tim laughed, shaking his head at the same time. "You too may have the gift of dad jokes."

Heather nodded and they cuddled and she lay her forehead against Tim's before pulling back. "Mum's okay with it, but she still doesn't understand the gravity of the situation. None of us really understand, but she's agreed to let Dad use her shed, since she mainly only uses it as her pottery studio."

"The one out the back of her shack? It'll be freezing!"

"There's a pot-bellied stove..."

"The walls are thin Colorbond steel sheeting and there's no insulation what-so-ever. Last winter when we stayed there we almost froze!"

Heather pushed herself against Tim. "But it was so snuggly in the shed bed with all the quilts and you..."

"Which brings up an important point, Cogs, there's only one bed in the shed, so where's your Dad gonna sleep?"

"Oh, we'll share the bed, silly. We're Tasmanian, it's how we roll, remember, like you remind me from time to time."

Tim looked aghast, despite his habit of making Tasmanian incest jokes, and Max cleared his throat to let them know he could both hear and see them down the hall. "That's definitely not how we roll, Tim, so don't worry. And, Heather, I'm still not sure if it's a good idea for me to go to yer Mother's place."

"Why, Dad, are you scared she might bite?" Heather walked towards him from the hall, grinning.

"As if..."

"You never know, Dad," Heather said, gnashing her teeth theatrically, "Mum might be hungry."

"I'm sure she has plenty of attention from men around town and won't want me about for too long..."

"I'm sure she doesn't care for any attention either. Anyway, your choice, Dad, but things look like they're getting out of hand, so..."

"What about Tim?"

"He can fend for himself," Heather said, turning to smirk at her partner. "Lounging around here in his undies, scratching his balls and drinking cans of beer."

"He does those things anyway," Max said with a cheeky smile. "But he'll rug up once the temperature drops."

"Don't you guys worry about me," Tim said, "But again, how are you gonna both sleep in the shed if there's only one bed?"

"You're obsessing," Heather laughed. "Like I said, I'll kinda curl up and Dad will spoon..."

"Ahum," Max said, pretending to clear his throat, and Heather laughed.

"No one stress," Heather said, still chuckling, "We're not having to share a bed. Mum's fixed up her spare room for me, the one she normally uses as an office."

Tim looked somewhat relieved, but then concerned again. "Are you gonna be alright in the shed, Max?"

Max winked. "Maybe I'll move into the spare room with Heather."

"You Tasmanians can't help yourselves," Tim laughed.

~0~

The road wound through hills and forests, past pastures with cattle and sheep and sometimes horses, and Max recalled the times he'd driven this road, countless journeys in his past. Of course he couldn't remember each trip, where they blended into memory snippets. Like the first time he'd driven up this way in his Torana to take Yvonne on their first date, then subsequent journeys back and forth as often as possible, rock music always blaring, and then the time he drove up to take her back to Hobart when she agreed to come live with him.

He recalled driving with children in the back-seat of the Torry, first Justin, then Heather and finally Ryan, after whose birth they'd bought the larger Commodore station wagon, their dog Lady travelling in the back with their overnight bags. He recalled pit-stops at the side of the road, games of eye-spy, children's music and story cassettes on the stereo, often sharing laughter, smiles all round...

Now it was years since he'd passed this way, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd driven the road, and at the time he was sure he'd not known it was his last time on this road behind the wheel of the Torana, or more likely by then, the Commodore.

Today Heather drove, and Max smiled because his daughter drove with intent, fast and precise, the Subaru's all-wheel drive gripping the bitumen, hugging the turns comfortably despite the occasional rain-showers wetting the road's surface, handling much more comfortably than both his old Holden's ever did.