Published: 10 Apr 2023

Chapter 19

For the first time in memory a frosty atmosphere hung about the Parker household. Alf had not furthered his questioning of Owen’s encounter with Ted but it was obviously foremost in his thoughts, nor had Owen asked for clarification of why he shouldn’t associate with his extended family.

Some days later it was May who supplied one small piece to the mystery that was Ted, although not going far towards solving the impasse. It had been a slow week with little to do around the farm, except watering while watching the crop power towards harvesting. Early morning found Alf and Gavin tinkering in the shed and May finishing the breakfast dishes. Owen remaining seated at the breakfast table, finding humour with the comics of Bluey and Curley and their wartime antics in an old copy of the Cairns Post newspaper, he retrieved crumpled from the kindling box.

“Grab a cloth and give me a hand dear,” May suggests, bringing Owen to positively response while finding comment towards his mother’s overuse of soap, making the plats slippery to hold while drying.

“You do realize soap is rationed,” he says.

“I do but why do you mention?”

“I could bet London to a brick you have used up most of the month’s ration in the sink.”

“Don’t be silly,” May contradicts.

“Well more than necessary.”

“Do you remember Gregory? May asks after a period of silence, except for the clatter of plate on plate.

“Who is Gregory?” Owen curiously questions.

“Gregory is your cousin.”

“I don’t know any Cousin Gregory?”

“He is Ted and Diane’s son.”

“I wasn’t aware Ted had a son?”

“He would be a little older than you with his birthday in February but the same year as you were born. A nice lad but somewhat serious, or was when he was a boy, although I haven’t seen him since he was around six.”

Why May would mention Gregory was baffling to Owen, almost as if she was offering a single piece for him to fit into the large puzzle that was the Parker family, bringing him to further question his mother’s reason for doing so.

Owen patiently waited for continuation.

“There that’s finished,” May says as she passed the last plate to Owen.

“What of Gregory?” Owen curiously questions.

“He has returned and is living in Atherton and working as a clerk at the PMB-office.”

“What is the PMB?”

“It is the new peanut marketing board.”

“What about Aunt Diane?” The most Owen remembered of Ted’s wife was she wore too much makeup and smelt of cheap scent. She was a large breasted woman who loved to cuddle, bringing his small frame in close and almost suffocating him within her F-cup bra, while smothering with kisses and lipstick. She had a booming voice and hypnotic laugh and spoke freely about anything a young lad would find embarrassing. He also remembered how he would hide when Diane came to visit.

“No one has heard from Diane since she went south, only that she did file for divorce from Ted.”

“Did they divorce?”

“I believe so.”

Owen wished to question further but Gavin arrived with a loud thumping of the rear flywire door.

“One day young man you will have that door right off its hinges,” May growls.

“Sorry mum,”

“Where is your father?”

“He is in the shed and can’t find the machine oil; he said there is a tin in the cupboard under the sink.”

“That is for my sewing machine.”

“He said he only needs a little and will return it soon after.”

“Yes I know your fathers meaning of return, I’ll have to go search for it and find the tin empty when I next need it.”

“Sorry, I am only the messenger.”

“Go on but I’m holding you responsible for its return,” May dries her hands, “that’s the dishes done, now to start on the washing. Have you any dirty clothes?”

“I’ve already dropped mine in the clothes hamper.”

“Go see what’s laying around Gavin’s bedroom floor for me.”

“What’s on his back for starters,” Owen comments on the grease stained shirt his brother was wearing when he came for the oil.

“Both of you boys were always grubs. I remember whenever it rained you would be out playing in the mud and soaked through – and the time when;” May pauses with a smile.

“When what Meagan-may?” Owen prompts.

“The time when you both helped Winnie in the kitchen.”

“Yes I remember we were making you a chocolate cake for your birthday.”

“It was before rationing and there were plenty of ingredients.”

“Including chocolate,” Owen titters.

“And you both had it all over your faces and clothes, then one of you up-tipped the flour and turned your hair white.”

“I remember it well,” Owen joyfully recollects.

“I also remember I didn’t get my birthday cake,” May concludes.

During the day while watering, Owen retained his curiosity about his Cousin Gregory and more so why his mother had mentioned his return. It was as if she was offering him permission to seek Gregory out. He recollected the last time he saw Ted and Diane together. It had been at Christmas and they arrived to exchange presents. He was given a popgun but wanted a toy six-shooter and it was by his disappointment in the gift that planted the seed in his memory.

Now with the benefit of hindsight there had been someone else during that visit, there had been a young boy with them but being so involved with presents and the spirit of Christmas he had disregarded the lad’s presence. “Now I remember, he had ginger hair,” Owen quietly says while watching water run along the furrows. Looking up he noticed Gavin approaching.

Owen calls and waves as Sookie levees Gavin and bounds up to him,

“Hello girl,” Owen stoops and gives her a pat, satisfied all is fine in her simplistic world, she returns to be with Gavin.

“I’ll finish the watering if you like,” Gavin offers.

“Na, I like watering, I find it relaxing; so you’re on holidays.”

“Some holiday with dad around and suggesting with school over I should start looking for a job.”

“What about finishing your senior year?”

“I may skip it.”

“What do you think you will do?”

“Dunno’, I’ll wait for the new year. For what it is worth I may as well enjoy what could be my last school holiday.”

“The best apprenticeships will have been filled by the New Year. I suggest you should at least make some enquiries.”

“Then I’ll work here on the farm.”

“Dad expects you to finish your education and has aspirations for you to be the only one in the family to go on to university.”

“University, that’s a laugh with my grades. I don’t think they run courses in road maintenance.”

“As I said, his is only aspirations.”

“I’m going into Atherton with Tubby Mark Reynolds tomorrow.”

“What’s the go?”

“Interschool sports finals and trials for the interstate games in Brisbane.”

“How are you getting there?”

“Train I suppose,” Gavin goes to the dam, “the water’s down.”

“Hey Gavin did you know we have a Cousin Gregory?”

“No, is he from mum’s side?”

“He is Uncle Ted’s kid.”

“I didn’t know Teddy and Aunt Diane had children? Teddy never spoke of him when I visited.”

“Obviously they did and mum said Gregory is about my age. I do remember a kid coming with Ted and Diane one Christmas, also from what I remember he had ginger hair.”

“Where was I?”

“In your cot I suppose, I would have been only about six at the time and I was more interested in presents than some unknown cousin.”

“Very interesting, how did you discover Gregory?”

“Mum told me this morning, she may have said more but you arrived for the machine oil.”

“It’s strange that she would tell you anything to do with Teddy?”

“It was as if mum was inviting me to seek him out, as if it she was giving me permission to discover about Ted through his son.”

“Will you do so?”

“Yes, that is why I asked you how you were going to Atherton, I could ask for the truck and take you and while in Atherton I’ll go find Gregory.”

“That’s a little sneaky, what if dad finds out what you are up to?”

“Then he finds out, I’m beyond caring about his little secret.”

“I heard you and dad at it the other day, even from the shed. What was it about?”

“Ted cornered me and I went to the Royal with him where Ken Francis saw us together and told dad.”

“Why did you agree to speak with Teddy?”

“I don’t know, it just happened and what damage could one quick drink do.”

“So that’s why dad’s been moody but if you’re in his bad-books with him how will you ask for the truck?”

“He’ll get over it but I have made up my mind, I will find out sooner or later. As for using the truck, I’ll word mum up first and have her suggest it to dad.”

“Okay, I like your style,”

Morning breakfast was a quiet affair as Alf remained smarting from Owen challenging his authority but Owen had already worded May with his wish to borrow the truck to drive Gavin to Atherton, without mentioning his intention to visit his Cousin Gregory.

“Gavin how are you and Mark travelling to Atherton?” May asked as plates of fried eggs and bacon arrived, “enjoy that bacon as it will be the last for a while.”

“By train I would think,” Gavin says and glances across to his brother for backing.

“Doing so you will lose most of your day travelling,” May suggests.

“It can’t be helped.”

“I believe Mark is a good short distance runner,” May is edging towards the question of using the truck.

“He is but because of the war his dad doesn’t have access to a car anymore.”

“Why not have Owen drive you to Atherton and catch the afternoon service home. What do you think Alf?”

Alf comes from behind his newspaper and glares at Owen without responding to May’s request, then placing his paper aside, he smothers his breakfast in Holbrooks Worcestershire sauce.

All around the table turn their noses at the sea of dark substance with the fried egg appearing as a yellow island floating in murky sea that in reality would dominate the flavor of everything on his plate. Taste didn’t concern Alf, as he had lost most of his ability to taste all but the strongest flavors after receiving a mild dose of mustard gas during the first big event.

“What do you think Alf?” May repeats her request.

“I suppose so. There is only the watering and that can be done in the cool of the evening. Why do you want to go to Atherton Gavin?” Alf asks.

“It’s the end of year interschool sports and Tubby is competing.”

“When is it on?” Alf asks.

“Today and if I’m going by train, I’ll have to leave soon after breakfast.”

“Your brother can take you,” Alf agrees.

Tubby Reynolds was Mareeba’s best in short distance running events and unlike his sobriquet he was quite lithe. The title of Tubby came about because in his early years he was quite chubby, similar to that of a medieval religious cherub but with the advent of puberty he slimmed down and muscled up, metamorphosing from fat kid to class pin-up in his first year of high school.

“You may need to get fuel,” Alf suggests without making eye contact with his wayward son.

“I did on the way back from town yesterday,” Owen admits.

“You will need to do deliveries on Monday, so while in Atherton don’t go wasting petrol.”

“No, straight in and back again, no dawdling,” Owen smiles but it is ignored by Alf as he returns to his news paper. He gives a gentle cough, “mother best you get a list ready for Monday if Owen is going into town and have you found the ration coupons?”

“I have, they fell behind the bread box but we have already used up our butter coupons.”

“Put a bottle of Worcestershire on the list, I just used the last of it.”

By the time Owen collected Tubby from Walkamin and arrived at the Atherton sport’s ground the carnival had commenced, so quickly dropping the boys at the gate he went to find the office of the peanut marketing board, which wasn’t difficult with its large painted sign taking up most of the space above the building’s awning.

Parking the truck Owen sat quietly for some time contemplating his approach and how to word a reunion that may not be appreciated, as it was possible Gregory wouldn’t remember Owen, or wish to, as their meeting may bring back long forgotten and unpleasant memories.

While his courage was building he mulled over his introduction, Hi Greg, I’m your cousin Owen, was his first rendition but it appeared much too formal. G’day mate I’m Owen your Mareeba cousin was another but possibly a little too presumptuous. Eventually Owen decided to simply meet and whatever came out at that moment would be his preamble.

With a nervous sigh he advanced towards the office of the Marketing Board.

“Owen!”

The calling of his name paused Owen outside his intended destination. The intruder to his thoughts was his once schoolmate Ian Douglas, “g’day’ mateee’ what are you doing in Atherton?” Ian asks in his usual flamboyant style.

“Ian, I could ask you the same question.”

“I’ve come from the station and on my way to the showground to watch Tubby win the hundred yards for us.”

“I have only this moment dropped Gavin and Tubby off there.”

“If I knew you were coming I would have bummed a lift and saved the two shillings train fare.”

“I thought you were buying a car?”

“Almost, I’ve made an offer on Clarence Bird’s old heap and he has all but agreed on a price.”

“I’m not staying, I have some business then heading back home,” Owen says.

“There goes my return lift.”

“It does I’m sorry Ian but I have to get the truck back before afternoon.”

“See-ya’” Douglas says and departs for the sports grounds.

“See-ya,” Owen answers and on approaching the office door had completely lost his mode of introduction. Before entering Owen steps aside allowing the postman to do his deliveries, then after a short conversation with the office manager the mailman departs giving Owen a nod of acknowledgement as if he was known to the lad but Owen’s association with Atherton was scant and he continued on without returning the gesture.

The office of the peanut board was a shop that in Owen’s memory belonged to a greengrocery but with the advent of the war the Italian grocer and his family were interned in a camp somewhere towards Townsville. Owen remembered the grocer to be an affable fellow, he also remembers Tom Baker, the second greengrocer along the main street, had a sign outside his premises stating; shop here before the day goes. Everyone knew he meant Dago but with the war and Italy’s siding with Germany, the insinuation was well accepted.

Inside the office the furnishings were simple, as peanut marketing on the Tablelands was a recent perception without the need for more than a small space, consisting of filing cabinets, two desks a telephone and the staffing of manager and his clerk. The clerk is seated behind a desk with his head bowed over his work and has ginger hair.

‘That must be Gregory,’ Owen thinks and approached a long counter dividing public space from that of office.

The ginger lad lifted his head on hearing boots echo upon the uncovered floorboards.

He placed down his pen and prepares to acknowledge.

His expression becomes a frown as he approaches the counter, “don’t I know you?” the young clerk quizzically asks as he straightens his tie.

“You should,” Owen says with a wide grin.

The happy expression was not extended.

“Owen Parker,” Gregory softly says without elation.

“That’s me Gregory it has been a long time.”

“I’d recognize you anywhere,” Gregory looks about. His manager is watching the proceedings.

“Don’t tell me Uncle Alf is now growing peanuts.”

“Then I won’t. No we have a contract for fresh vegetables with the airfield and army base at Mareeba.”

“What are you doing here in Atherton?” Gregory remains unreceptive as his manager gives a light cough.

Gregory looks about and again nervously touches his tie, “I can’t talk now; I am at lunch in five I’ll meet you outside.”

“You can go now Gregory but come back five minutes early;” his manager obliges.

Lunch was a pie from the local café and eaten while sitting in the truck but until seated Gregory had hardly spoken and Owen was finding conversation difficult, as Gregory’s father’s exclusion from the family was foremost in his thought and how to express that thought most difficult.

“The last time I saw you Greg, in my calculation it would have been when we were about six or seven, it was Christmas at our farm.”

“Gregory if you don’t mind, dad called me Greg and I don’t like my name shortened. It sounds condescending.”

“Sorry I didn’t mean to offend you,”

“You didn’t but I don’t understand why you have tracked me down.”

“Mum told me you were back on the tableland and I thought we could again become acquainted.”

“I think too many years have passed for that Owen. It may be said blood and all that but my blood was broken when mum and I left my father. I consider I have the adopted blood of another now.”

“I understand,” Owen says.

“I don’t think you do Owen,” Gregory looks at his watch, “I will have to return to work in a few minutes, I am only allowed half an hour.”

“All I know is dad and Ted had one hell of a fight just before you and Aunt Diane left and we have been forbidden to meet or speak with Ted since and that I don’t understand why.”

“Then dad is still alive?”

“He still lives in Mareeba.”

“Do you visit him?”

“No.”

“So you want me to join the dots for you?”

“In honesty yes,”

“I’m sorry Owen I won’t do that.”

“Then I apologize for intruding into your life, I should have had more sense.”

“Apology accepted.”

“Could I visit you again sometime, simply as cousins’?”

“I’d accept that but only if Ted and the past are left where they belong.”

“Accepted.”

Gregory smiles for the first time since the two met, offering his hand in friendly gesture, “I’m in the telephone book but under Smith and living in Beatrice Street.”

“I know Beatrice Street, I had a mate Steven Finlayson, who lives at twenty-one, you may know him.”

“No I’ve only been in town a short while and I’m at the other end, on the other side. Mum remarried and I am now Gregory Smith but firstly give me time to think about what has happened, you have come as a bit of a shock.”

If Owen’s arrival without announcement was a shock to Gregory, his cousin’s attitude was also a shock for Owen. As Gregory walked back towards his work Owen took a deep breath, “I should have had more flaming sense,” he loudly ostracized his thoughtless approach into another’s privacy.

“Oh well a lesson well learned,” Owen says as he fires up the truck. He shrugs away his cousin’s attitude and returns to the sports ground, arriving as the last race concludes. He find’s Gavin, “how did your mate go?” he asks.

“Not as good as he expected, although he won the hundred yard dash he was beaten to third in the four hundred and second in the relay.”

“Is there more races today?”

“No, all finished except for the mile, I thought you were leaving once you dropped us off?”

“That was my intention but I did visit our Cousin Gregory,”

“How did the meeting go?” As Gavin spoke Tubby Reynolds comes from the dressing shed.

“I’ll tell you later, your mate coming, so if you are ready I’ll drive you both home.”

“May as well there’s not a lot to do around here, besides we’ve missed the afternoon rail motor and I’m not going to wait for the late service.

While Owen was garaging the truck Alf comes from the generator shed, his hands covered in grease, he wipes them clean on an old cloth and commences to inspect the truck. For quite some time he stands blankly staring at it.”

“Any problems dad?”

“I was thinking it is about time we retired the old girl, it is becoming too difficult to find parts when she breaks down.”

“Can we afford a new one?”

“I think so.”

“A new Bedford.”

Alf laughs; “I would say more like whatever is around, it will be difficult finding anything new with the war on.”

“Possibly a new secondhand truck,” Owen suggests.

“Possibly,” Alf says.

“If you wait until after the war there will be plenty of good military trucks on offer and I would think going cheap.”

“Jim will be home permanently next week,” Alf shares but there is distance in his tone, as he concerns for his eldest son’s obvious mental health.

Owen doesn’t comment but like his father holds concern for Jim’s state of mind, also Jim’s lack of interest with the farm, or returning to social events he once appeared to cherish, especially pub nights after a solid game of rugby with his mates.

Alf kicks the truck’s back tyre.”

Owen commences to laugh.

“What?” Alf quizzically asks.

“You kicking the tyre, you’re not buying it.”

The coolness that had prevailed between father and son for some days was at last broken.

After dinner Alf retired to the living room to listen to the wireless with Gavin attending to the last of the day’s watering. Owen is helping with the night’s dishes, sharing light conversation with May and spending more time than needed on one of the plates.

“What is wrong?” May asks.

“This one has a small crack.”

“Where?” May takes the plate with soapy hands, almost dropping it to the floor, “opps,” she says.

“There I told you that you use too much soap.”

May ignores the comment and after a quick inspection, passes the plate back to Owen. “Wipe it clean, I’ll put it away safely at the bottom of the pile. They were my grandmothers.”

“I suppose we all crack eventually,” Owen says while placing the plate aside. His tone makes May curious but doesn’t question his adage giving him courage to continue.

“Dad said he is thinking of buying a new truck,” Owen shares.

“So the two of you are talking,” May appears relieved.

“A truce would be more to point.”

“You father only does what is best for you love.”

“Possibly,” Owen pauses, “I’ll tell you something if you promise not to get cranky with me.”

“Simply saying that makes me mad, as I know it will be something I won’t like.”

“Ha.”

“What is amusing you young man?”

“What you said. Winnie said the same to me on an earlier occasion when I had something to relate.”

“Like mother, like daughter I suppose,” May implies. She pulls the plug on the sink water. The water slowly gurgles away leaving soap scum and a rim of cooking fat.

“I visited Gregory while in Atherton,” Owen’s tone is low and calculating in fear Alf may hear.

May wipes her hands clean of suds but remains unresponsive. She collects the cracked plate and carefully places it in the cupboard away from the others.

“It’s a shame about that,” she says.

“A shame about what?”

“Grandma’s plate having a crack, it has lasted through three generations without cracking, that set came all the way from Swede in a shipping container without a single breakage, now I’ve managed to crack it.”

“It’s only a plate Meagan-may,” Owen disregards without holding sentiment for something so old.

“Only a plate,” she sighs but to May its representation was life itself and how a war, a second in less than a lifetime had taken her dreamy forgotten backwater away from its simplistic existence and thrust it headlong into the reality of man’s inhumanity towards his fellow man.

“Gregory goes under his mother’s second marriage and is now Gregory Smith.”

“I regret telling you about Gregory,” May sternly says.

“Then why tell me in the first place, surely you would realize I would act on it.”

“Well it’s done now but don’t tell your father or it will be the start of another row – how were you received by Gregory?”

“Coldly at first but he did give permission to visit him at a later date.”

“Will you?”

“Possibly but not for a time I should think.”

“Dad will need to kill one of the chickens for tomorrow night,” May says while sidestepping further conversation on Gregory.

“What is special about tomorrow night?”

“Nothing special, Winnie is coming home for the weekend and bringing a friend, I thought it would be nice to cook them something different and your father wants you to drive in and pick them up.”

“Dad didn’t say anything about it.”

“He more than likely forgot, so I’m letting you know now.”

At last a window of opportunity came about for Owen to put in motion the plan for Winnie’s pregnancy termination. It had been agreed she would pretend to have interest in nursing and seeing the procedure was to occur on the base, she would be in need of a valid excuse to be there as it was a certainty her visit would more sooner than later get back to Alf.

“Did you know Winnie is thinking of doing nursing?” Owen says and feels a flushing in his cheeks from the lie.

“No, when did this come about?”

“Recently.”

“She never said anything,” May is peeved that Owen would know before Winnie had approached her on the matter.

“Chip had arranged for her to meet with the airfield’s medic to get an idea what to expect at a field hospital.”

“I thought you said she was interested in nursing?”

“Yes she said she would like to do her bit for the war effort and join the RAAFNS’,”

“That is a mouthful what does it mean?” May asks.

“Royal Australian Air Force Nursing Service I believe.”

“It remains a mouthful why would she wish to do that?”

“As I said she wants to do her part for the war effort. Pam is also thinking of becoming a military nurse.” Owen adds Pam’s name to the mix to make Winnie’s joining seem more feasible.

“Wouldn’t that mean she could be sent to a war zone?”

“Not necessary besides she is only thinking of it, I don’t believe she is all that keen and it was originally Pam’s idea.”

The deceit was expanding and now Owen realized there was no going back and the charade would need to continue but why mention Pam as a bolster to the story, as he was aware May was social with Pam’s family and often had telephone conversation.

“I’ll speak with her tomorrow night but for the present don’t tell your father.”

Owen laughs.

“What’s funny?” May’s tone remains smarting from Winnie’s decision and Owen’s visit to his Cousin Gregory.

“Only that there seems to be so many things I shouldn’t tell dad.

Gary’s stories are about life for gay men in Australia’s past and present. Your emails to him are the only payment he receives. Email Gary to let him know you are reading: Conder 333 at Hotmail dot Com

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