"So how be the winds of sibling lub in our favourite madhouse- Cavendish Camelot?" Michael greeted as I toe'd my boots off by the door. He stepped back a few paces, they were the 'smelly' boots of yore. I kicked one his way and he jumped like a kangaroo bouncing over a six-foot fence. "Watch it, I just showered. Don't want, or need, to be de-contaminated again thank-U very much"

"Christ mate it's a boot, not cow poop"

"Terri, I lub ya girl but those boots of yours... questionable. Did you shove Sparkface in your saddle bag to bring him for a visit?"

Yes! My motorbike was going again! I had to strip down the engine, which was the pits, but I got there. Few dings in the fuel tank from my booting her but that adds character, that. Sparkie stood like a shag on a rock watching me paw over the nuts and bolts, the carby, etcetera. Washing everything down in a bowl of petrol. Hands shoved deep in his pockets, I nibbled my lip, as he did his. Funny that, he does some funny stuff that boy but then a day or two later I'll wake up and realise Crikey! I DO THAT too! How's that for eerie. My motor was not as smokey as before either; always a good thing when dwelling in cities. Out bush no one gives a flying duck fart but, in the city, all the people turn hoity toity noses up at the exhaust fumes.

"No. Pauls considering his options"

"Considering what?"

"His options- I said Sparks you can take me, you can leave me but you can't lose me. I'm here forevermore in your family so pull the stick outta that derriere of yours and see sense"

"And he..."

"And he poked his tongue out and called me a shonky loud-mouthed scam artist of a con-woman convict and he'd see himself swim in the Thames before he accepted the fact that I was his... his..."

"His what?"

"His blood"

"Awww luv, come here let me give you a cuddle"

"I'm not gonna cry, I'm not. But he really is being a big piece of pelican poop, I oughta put that dehairer cream in his fancy conditioner bottle"

"You mean depilatory cream?"

"Yeah. I guess. You know what he did? He put that torture lotion in the bathroom and wrote a note on the bottle...it said 'You should remove your moustache if you won't remove yourself'"

"What did you do?!"

"Used the shit of course, burnt like a bastard but geez, smooth as a baby's arse now, have a feel"

"I'm not feeling your top lip Terri"

"Alright, your loss. Where's ya Da any-hoot?"

"Yours too, luv"

"Well there's that, but it's still a bit weird you know. Having two dads is pretty fabulous but saying it- Nah. Jimbo when it's we two, and Jim when I do have to say it to him. For the time being any-hoot. I hope he's not offended by that but that's the way the Nullabor Nudges me"

"Nulla what"

"Nullabor- big track of treeless plain out back of whoop whoop"

"Past the Black Stump?"

"Noooooo, that's nowhere near the Nullabor"

"So it's Beyond the Black Stump"

"It's nowhere near the Black Stump! It's like miles south, in South Australia Mikey"

"And the Black Stump is.. where exactly?"

"Well, I say it's in Blackall. Old Melvin says it's in Merriwagga and mummy said it was in Coolah"

"So there are three Black Stumps?"

"I guess so.. geez Mikey I didn't come visit your pop to give flaming geography lessons!"

"But I so love riling you up gurl. You get all blustery and animated"

"Fu- Hi Jim!"

"Hello dear. What are you two squabbling about?"

"Aww nothing, just giving Theresa a gee up over colloquial words of Australia."

"In layman's terms he was sticking the wind up me ars- Ask no questions tell no lies! Sorry Unc-Jim, your kid is a wizz at winding me up. How are you going? Been good? Did you want me to ride that nag Sparkie bought you, to get it to have a win? He should have waited for me. Woulda liked running me eye over a piece of prime horseflesh"

"Paul would have poked himself in the eye before letting you put forward your thoughts on Drake! Repeatedly! Poke, poke, poke!" Michael stood there, between Jim and me, pretending to poke himself in the eye as an example of Pauls poking.

"Michael is Paul here!?"

"Arrrr no?? Not unless Terri has him secreted on her person."

I shook my noggin in the negatively normal way of offering up a 'nope'.

"Well then, do we tease the lad when he is not in our presence, hmmm?"

"Hell yeah!!" Michael and I high fived over our harmonising reply. Jim wasn't amused but he wasn't unamused either. Guess a dad can't be laughing over one child's put down; bit mean of a parent to do that. But me and Mikey!... We can tease and lob stuff whenever! Being a sibling is sooooo cool!

"Ok you lot, into the parlour for tea and stop teasing our poor Paul"

"Poor Paulie" Mikey and I giggled and shoved each other happily as we went into Jimbo's front parloury 'no ones living in the room' room.

And so, we came to pass a wonderful afternoon stuffing Angie's small cakes down our traps (gobs says Mikey, but trap is what I say!) Angie was a revelation, she was. So quiet but nice, real nice. Ruthie was at school the poor little vegemite. I don't know if I could of handled carting off to some ugly brick building every day.

What about playing and farming and fun?! Poor little mite. On the farm I could get on the CB, talk for a bit, roll my eyes when the other kids were being derros and no one could see. No strap, no ruler over the knuckles. I'd spin the dial, get a bit of snap, crack and pop static happening for the teacher's benefit, and bobs your uncle, schools out! Can't hear the teacher, ya can't school no more!

I'd go off, ride all day and swim or shoot cans off the fence or laze under a coolibah tree by the billabong and, you know if Tommy was around, I'd be getting a right bit of entertainment happening, don't ya. Arr Tommy he's probably settled down with a woman now. He was very good at entertaining so I'm sure she will be very happy... and busy....

"So how did the equestrian afternoon go?" Jim knocked his pipe clean and re stuffed it with tobacco. I never liked the things, too bulky, give me a rollie any day.

"Don't ask"

"Come now, it must not have been so bad?"

"Torture"

"Why? Did Sparkie go with you?"

"Michaelll" Jim warned "What did I say about that!"

"Just joshing. Come on Terri what happened?"

"Awww it was just... they made me feel like a, a... Like an inferior person you know. They had smart boots on and riding jackets and posh ways of talking and there I am- Akubra shoved on my head, old stock saddle on my shoulder and stupid sunshiney grin on my face"

"Yes well, I'm sure you just surprised them dear"

"That Brian fella did warn me. Sent over some smart skin tight jodphurs and a fancy hard hat for my noggin even a jacket for me to wear, but boy, that stuff... I can't ride in stuff like that! I just.... Anywayyyy, I made another Theresa the Terrible mistake and pushed all that stuff aside and went looking like a... well someone there at the stable coughed and hid the words behind a suitably attired gloved hand they said a... 'poor Australian relative of John Wayne'. I'm sorry it just stung, ya know. I usually can cut through all that bullshit and be me, but that day there... I could see what Paul saw. Me, the Aussie imbecile"

"Nooo Theresa, you are certainly not any of that. And definitely not an imbecile " Jim smiled so nice, trying to make me feel better.

"I bloody am too"

"Noo, I will not have that! Theresa you are you. Resourceful, strong, talented, unique-" Old Jim launched into a dictionary of words not befit for me.

"Got that in one! Unique, another word for crazy, that is!"

"I will not have you putting yourself down! I will not!" Jim stood and paced back and forth and Michael scrunched his face up as he watched on.

"I don't fit. It's just plain fact"

"I blame Paul" Michael grumbled as Jimbo stood silent and quite annoyed as he stared at the ceiling.

"No don't, he is just being cautious, no harm in that Mikey"

"You stick up for him.... even when he rings here every other afternoon, and lists a dozen reasons why Da shouldn't trust you!?"

"He does?" Bloody hell Paul is really worried. Guess he's got reason. I've had nothing to do with his life, ever. Not either of our faults', not Jim's either. Just the way the seeds of life landed us... me.

"Michael stop... Paul was being good but he has got something in his bonnet these past few days. Since your trunk arrived my dear."

"I tied his bracelet"

"The leather one, like you gave me dear?"

"Your Mary's bracelet. He was using it as a bookmark, I tied it into its proper form, a bracelet"

"No, it wouldn't be that. He can untie it and it's back to how he knows it. How my darling Mary used it" Jim smiled wistfully as Mary floated in all our minds.

"Anything else?"

"Gee I don't know. We had a bit of a moment and then we were back to normal. Well, our normal anyway"

"What sort of a moment Terri? Sparkies moments are like an age of time. You know- peering in the mirror for me is a mo; for him it's more like decades..." Michael grinned and his eyes twinkled as he spoke. I smirked at his little cheeky gag but I wasn't up to busting me sides in laugher.

"Wellll we had thoughts of our mum's. Both of 'em. We got a bit sentimental I suppose. It was... nice, in a sad way. I wanted to keep the moment a tad longer but I knew... I knew if Paul broke and had a cry in front of me over Mary he would be ever so embarrassed so I backed off, switched the subject and we got on with it. Back to our crazy ways"

"It sounds like you had a minor breakthrough on the Paul front"

"If minor is one minute and five seconds long, then yes"

I know, because I counted every second...

**********

John

"I've got her now John"

The glee was written all over his face, rubbing his hands together like a copper finding mary jane in me underpants. That reminds me- move the stash.

"Got who, where?"

"The convict"

"Theresa?" Sweet kid, nice arse, Pauls eyeballs as previously noted. She hasn't got his stubbornness though. Well, I hope not. If these two have an emotional breakthrough and become thick as thieves I'm done for. Paul will inherit her bite of Aussie humour and have his usual sarkiness! I'll have to definitely step up me game.

"The imposter"

"Look Paul, cut her some slack. She's awesome and –"

"John. I get that you're all flirty with her and, in another life, without a wife, you'd do her but why can't you see the wood for the trees?" Paul's bloody crackers. I'd do her with a wife. Oh boohoo, come on, cry me a river, she's right cute! Then again... if she bats those lashes at me mid naughty, I'd have to rip me eyeballs out. Her and Pauls eyes... shivers man. Like so identical it's eerie.

"Stop shivering in your seat. If you need to pee- go, if not, switch the blasted thing on and let's listen. If there's a voice there you have to admit she must have an agenda John"

"Turn it on then. Have your way. But if she's part of your family she's bound to have a bit of talent. McGear can sing, you have your moments, and old Jim can belt out the Christmas carols like a pro. Sooo, keep in mind this could be more telling then you want to admit"

"I doubt it; and I can sing alright, you wanker!"

"Yeah, I guess you can hold a tune with me holding your hand" I shouldn't push him, not now but Pauls nose twisting and lips curling are the funniest 'angriest' face I've ever seen. Cause its not. It's like he's trying to be angry, and all that comes out, is yawning kitten. God bless the lyrical chipmunk.

*

So it came to pass...

After John poked his tongue out and Paul stomped his foot in a huff.

The switch was indeed switched to 'on'...

The audience was noisy.

Little kids yelling, babies bawling, dogs barking, men coughing, women chattering. A female voice that, unlikely to be true but was, even more Australian than Terri's, announced that Brucey had lost his mummy and Missus Chambers had put the kettle on. Then she cleared her throat to gain the audience's undivided attention. An Aussie fella whistled and shouted for some 'shush' (ummm sorry, that bloke was even more Australian than either Terri, or the announcer lady!) and finally, with a bit of a lull in noise, the female announcer lady was off!

Announcing who won what for school subjects...

The 'Reel of Fortune' went on and on...

Geography was Pete Cummings forte and Lizzy Lang screamed when she won an award for Mathematics. 

Charlie Young won best and politest CB usage whatever that was. 

And Abigail Warren scored a certificate for the grade three multiplication quiz.

... And on and on....

But no award for Theresa.

And on...

The kettle was boiled  now apparently 

And on...

No; no mention for fifteen minutes.

Fifteen minutes!

Fifteen minutes of John rolling his eyeballs and snacking overly loudly on Terri's 'harder than last time' batch of Aussie Anzac biscuits then onto his gum he went. Gnashing his teeth, smacking the chewing gum, and his lips, noisily...

Paul shushing repeatedly as John cracked open a bottle of coca cola, cumulating into Paul smacking his hand when John reached for Paul's smokes.

"Now ladies and gentlemen. We come to the point in the afternoon where we say goodbye. She's been a lazy student at times and much preferred to ride her treasured horses then sit in a hot room to do her 'School of the Air' class work but she has stuck with it and now we need to say farewell. Theresa darl come here. Now love, here is a letter of reference for where ever you go in the future. I didn't mention how you snuck out most every day but I did inform the reader that you were funny and bright, honest, and would do great things"

The assembled voices cheered and lots yelled 'Speech. Speech' and Paul thought he heard Uncle Phillip hooting and hollering and making a cracking whistle noise for her; Theresa.

"You go be you, darl. Be that smart girl I know so well. Be that good, honest, hard worker that this community knows. Be wonderful, be happy..." A sob escaped the woman and Terri's voice for the first time was heard.

"Awww Miss Jasmine don't blubber, I'll bloody blubber too! Awww thanks, and all that. Umm guess we should ruin the arvo with me performance, yeah miss?"

"Oh yes! Of course. A little shush. Larry please for my sanity, and that of your mothers, stop making fart noises in your armpit! Right, now then, here is our girl, Theresa Mohin, oh and of course, master Billy Walker will be accompanying her on snare!" The noisy mob whistled and clapped and banged the tables and stomped their feet. Then there was 'a bit of shush' as a piano key was pressed.

Two songs with a poem read in the middle was mentioned then launched into.

Crude childish poetry read through in short gasps occured. Like Terri was frightened.

The first song nothing to write home about. More poem with a few notes of piano attached than song and that Billy kid hitting the snare with all the grace of a dog wagging its tail.

John watched Paul chew on his lip.

Paul wanted it to be good so he could call her out, say she was after something. What he got was cringe worthy, slightly embarrassing words all crammed atop a not so bad bit of piano playing. That was to say when they could actually hear the piano playing above the drumming. The words were ok but in the wrong order. Like a poem that was meant to be only a poem. After all the years of John and Pauls to and fro they just knew what went where harmoniously.

Terri faltered, slammed her hand on the keys and launched straight into the poem alone after telling Billy to put a sock in it.

Paul grinned at John and wondered what he was bothered about. She had no writing talent whatsoever. Her words were plain and immature but there was a bit of talent under her fingers and when she did do a more sing-songy bit her voice lost a little of the nasal edge of Aussie accent from it. The piano, when it was audible, smooth and sweet.

John sighed. Pauls smile was a mile wide, like he was deeply, deeply enjoying her lack of talent.

The audience was noisy again but a mature female voice yelled 'A bit of quiet!' somewhere away from the mic and Paul wondered if it was Auntie Lorraine. He wished it was her, it was a nice thought to have as she was now in heaven with his mum.

Then Theresa actually sang a recognisable song.

A number from a western matinee they had watched in the theatre on a rainy afternoon while waiting for the paint to dry on the Cashbah ceiling. A movie about a tomboy girl who didn't know she wanted love til it snuck up on her in the shape of that tree trunk of a fella Howard Keel. The blonde in the movie was like Terri in the flesh. Tough and strong and loyal. John grinned at Terri's choice of song. Because the films lady, was Terri in real life.

All that-tough, strong and loyal and then some- funny and smart and honest.

Paul glanced up and caught John watching him.

This song she knew.

She sung it with all the melancholy and feels of Doris Days' original. She sang it as sweetly as Theresa Mohin could.

She sang it like no one was in the room. She sang it like she once had a 'Secret Love'.

The reel to reel sat flapping, the end of the roll flicking the side of the machine as Paul fumbled for a smoke. He hesitated and lit the match before looking up at John.

"Well"

"Hmmm"

"Yeah, ummm ya know....yeah"

"The drummer has a wee bit of talent."

He grinned, if it was one thing that John could do, and do extremely well, it was bringing the humour back into the moment.

Set the place to rights so to speak.

Glossary

Coolibah tree (or coolabah)  Eucalyptus coolabah, more commonly known as coolibah or coolabah, is a species of tree and is found in eastern inland Australia. It has rough bark on part or all of the trunk, smooth powdery cream to pink bark above, lance-shaped to curved adult leaves, flower buds in groups of seven and hemispherical or conical fruit.

Black Stump   The Australian expression 'black stump' is the name for an imaginary point beyond which the country is considered remote or uncivilised, an abstract marker of the limits of established settlement. The origin of the expression, especially in its evolved use as an imaginary marker in the landscape, is contested. The various claims abound. Check out wiki or just believe moi! haha

Nullabor The Nullarbor Plain is part of the area of flat, almost treeless, arid or semi-arid country of southern Australia, located on the Great Australian Bight coast with the Great Victoria Desert to its north.

Terri's 'harder than last time' batch of Aussie Anzac biscuits   OK so you made Anzac bikkies back a few chapters- right?!? Anyway, cooking slightly (slightly cause they're touchier than a brown snake under foot!) longer makes them crunchy, obviously... But, keeping them a little underdone makes them sort of chewy/ gooey. Crunchy ones are perfecto dunked in your cup of tea.  An article on this very matter and another recipe in case you dropped the ball and didn't cook the bikkies last time!                                   https://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-8243921/Should-Anzac-biscuits-soft-crunchy-Australians-argue-correct-texture.html

Rollie ~ cigarette  I in NO WAY endorse smoking! It is bad for your health and everyone else's lungs! Hear that kids!

Happy New Year Everybody