World Traveller Series III — Relationships ~ Episode 5
by Brett Hayhoe

Introduction
There are trips made with the best of intentions. The planning is modest, the company is family, and the destination is a relative who has not been seen in some time. The expectations are reasonable. The potential for disaster is, in theory, low.
In theory.
Southeastern Queensland had other ideas. So did my cousin. So, ultimately, did the booze.
This is a story about a mother, an aunt, an uncle, a family that could not quite manage peace even when peace was the entire point of the visit, and a teenage boy who made absolutely certain that whatever small chance of harmony existed would not survive the first weekend.
Joanie — A Woman Who Stayed Close to Home

My mother, Joanie, was not a traveller. To the best of my knowledge, this was her one significant journey — any great distance from home, in any case. The occasion was a visit to her sister Dorothy and family in the southeastern corner of the state. The reason, in retrospect, remains somewhat unclear.
It might have been a reconciliation. It might have been an attempt at one. In my mother’s family, reconciliation was a complicated business — she came from a large family, and at any given moment, at least two siblings would not be speaking to at least one other. The mathematics of the conflict were impressive. The conflicts themselves were considerably less so.
Whatever the reasoning, we went. And I, as the only boy and youngest of five children — a position that comes with its own particular relationship to one’s mother — was rather pleased about it. My first big trip. Mother and son. Queensland Rail and the open country between Cairns and the southeast.
I was excited. I should perhaps have been more cautious.
Dorothy and George — The Sister, the Uncle, and the Jurisdiction

Dorothy and George received us into their home in the southeast. The visit was, in its early hours, perfectly civil. As these things go, that represented something of an achievement given the family’s established track record.
Theirs was the household, and therefore theirs was the jurisdiction. This became relevant later — considerably more relevant than anyone anticipated.
David — The Cousin, the Church Group, and the Considerable Amount of Alcohol

My cousin David was involved with a church group. The invitation was extended — would I like to attend a meeting with him? Permission was sought from Joanie. Permission was granted. We departed in the direction of what was, on the surface at least, a religious gathering.
There was nothing holy about what followed.
I cannot now confirm with certainty whether we actually attended a church. What I can confirm with rather more certainty is that the amount of alcohol consumed bore no relationship whatsoever to any version of scripture I have ever encountered. The specifics of the evening do not require extensive documentation here. There are many stories that could be told about that night. It is wise not to tell most of them.
What must be told — because it is the part that shaped everything that came after — is the return to Dorothy and George’s house.
Getting back in without being caught was, to put it as plainly as the situation deserves, extremely problematic.
We were caught.
The Reckoning — and the Return to Cairns
What followed was immediate, comprehensive, and loud.
Being caught produced major trouble of the personal variety — the kind that a young teenage boy, the youngest of five, the only son, out of his home city for the first time, earns with some thoroughness when he returns to his aunt and uncle’s house in a condition that requires no further description.
But the more consequential outcome was not the trouble directed at me. It was the argument that ignited between Joanie and her sister Dorothy. The dormant tension — always present in this family, always a matter of when rather than whether — found its occasion. The visit, which had been modest in its ambitions, did not survive the weekend.
The holiday was cut short. Queensland Rail took us back to Cairns considerably ahead of schedule.
The Aftermath — Foliage, Friendship, and a Certain Perspective
There are many other stories from that trip that will remain where they belong — in the past, between the people involved, and off the record.
As for fear: there was not much of it, even at the time. There was embarrassment in considerable quantity. There was the particular discomfort of a long train journey home in which the atmosphere was not entirely warm. But fear? Not especially. The young are not always well-calibrated for consequence.
What the trip produced, beyond the logistical truncation and the family fallout, was something that has lasted considerably longer than the argument did. David and I have kept in touch. He has passed through Melbourne on occasion. A drink or two has been shared. The years between have a way of making the misadventures of a teenage evening in southeastern Queensland feel considerably more amusing than they did at the time.
Joanie, I suspect, would not entirely concur with that assessment.
Conclusion
This was not the trip of a lifetime — the title makes that clear enough. It was a Queensland Rail journey to a family visit that went sideways in the specific way that large, conflict-prone families tend to produce when given a sufficient occasion.
What it was, more quietly, was a first trip. A young boy and his mother on a train, heading somewhere new. The destination did not cooperate. The family did not behave. The cousin was not, it turned out, the most reliable chaperone.
But David is still in the contacts list. The drinks, when they happen, are good. And the particular story of how the trip ended — cut short, heading north, the southeast of Queensland receding through a train window — is one that does not require embellishment.
It comes with enough of its own.
The World Traveller Series is written and produced by Brett Hayhoe — publisher, editor and administrator of Q Magazine.
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