Chapter 3: The Aftermath

It was a few days after the funeral when an unknown caller woke Bandit up. He looked at the clock; it was almost nine. Shit. I guess the girls slept in too. Well, at least they're on break so we aren't missing anything. He fumbled with the phone before answering.

"Hello?"

"Um, hello, is this Mr. Heeler?" A woman spoke, Bandit was about to hang up when she continued. "This is Leslie Brown from Queensland Contracting; I wanted to follow up on your call from Saturday evening regarding the work on rebuilding your home on Poinciana Street."

Bandit blinked, "Um, yes, that's right, I did call."

"Yes, we did receive your message." She sounded slightly awkward, Probably because I sounded drunk when I left the message. "We wanted to see if you'd be available to meet at the address you'd given with our head contractor to discuss plans and potentially sign paperwork to initiate a contract of our services."

Bandit glanced at the clock, "Yeah, I can do that."

"Excellent. Would 11:00 work for you? We have another job in the area around that time."

"Yeah. I'll be there at 11."

Bandit took down a few details from the woman and hung up. He sighed as he slumped out of bed. He cracked his back and itched himself a moment before plodding across the hall to the girls' room. In the apartment there wasn't much yet, but the girls had managed to try and make themselves a place where they were comfortable. Their two beds were side by side like before, with a handful of toys that Bandit had picked up over the last few weeks strewn about. Most of them weren't played with, as the girls hadn't exactly been themselves, but it at least gave the illusion that everything was okay.

He first went to wake Bingo, expecting a kick when he did so. Recently she'd been suffering nightmares, but it was mostly confined to her whimpering quietly in her sleep. It broke his heart to hear her like that, but whenever he tried to offer comfort or ask her what was happening she shut down. I do need to make those appointments with Marcus' brother. "Bingo, hon, it's me. Time to get up." He whispered quietly, gently petting her ears to try and wake her. She jolted awake at the touch and started kicking the covers. Bandit took a step back and waited for her to calm. After a moment her eyes focused on the room around her. "Another bad dream, mate?"

She tucked her chin into her chest, not giving a response.

Bandit sighed. "It's okay. When you're ready to talk I'm here for you. I've got to do some things with the house, so we're going to get some brekkie then you and Bluey are going to stay with Uncle Spike and Aunt Trixie for a little bit."

Bingo nodded, showing she understood.

Bandit kissed her on the forehead before turning to Bluey. Bluey was more vocal in her nightmares, and regularly he'd been jolted awake and run into the girls' room because of her screams. Whenever she woke up she couldn't remember them. Last night had been calm, which meant only one time coming over to cradle his little girl as she wept into his fur about a dream she couldn't remember or describe. "Hey Bluey, time to get up…"

She opened her eyes slowly, "Hi dad." She said quietly, grabbing onto him tightly.

"We're going to get some brekkie then you and Bluey are going to stay with Uncle Spike and Aunt Trixie for a little bit because I've got to do some things with the house." Bandit explained, rubbing her back until she was ready to release.

Bluey let go, her small paws trembling slightly. "And you'll be okay, right?"

"I will."

***BCH***

Stripe had okayed the girls coming over, as he had off because his office was getting redone and his boss had officially given up on Zoom conferences after the last time it seemed every employee's pet or child somehow managed to interrupt what was supposed to have been a 40 minute call. (It ended up being over 2 hours.)

On the way from the apartment Bandit glanced at the back seat. Both girls were staring out the windows, little conversation passing between the two unless Bluey saw something particularly interesting she felt like sharing. So far it had been a man riding a scooter who narrowly avoided hitting a tree and an ice cream vendor that she wanted them to stop at.

"Girls, before we get to your aunt and uncle's I think we need to have a conversation about your behavior around your cousins."

"What behavior?" Bluey asked, a tone creeping into her voice.

Bandit sighed, knowing he had to choose his next few words carefully. "Muffin and Socks are younger than you both and you need to set a good example. I know Muffin can be a bit difficult sometimes, but I need you to try and be kinder to her. Can you promise me that?"

At the word promise Bingo burst into tears.

Oh shit. Trigger word. Great job Bandit, real father of the year… "I mean, um, Bingo, sweetie I didn't mean promise like that…"

Bingo's crying got louder.

"Nice work, dad." Bluey said, crossing her arms. "Bingo, shut up! I'm not gonna deal with you and Muffin both being babies."

"Bluey! Do not tell your sister to shut up!"

"Why? It doesn't matter."

The rest of the ride resulted in Bluey getting more moody and Bingo crying harder and harder. By the time they reached Stripe's house Bandit was at his wit's end. He quickly undid the girls from their carseats as a pissed off Bluey stomped down the walk and a sobbing Bingo had to be dragged to the door.

Stripe opened the door, noticing his nieces' expressions. "Hi girls, everything alright?"

"No." Bluey replied, pushing past and walking into the house.

"I'm sorry Stripe, I accidentally said something that set her off."

Stripe frowned slightly, sighing. "It's alright. You're trying your best." Something broke in the house behind him.

"I won't be long." Bandit said, passing Bingo to her uncle. "Bingo, it's okay, you're going to be with Uncle Stripe for a little bit. I'll be back soon." After detaching his daughter he returned to the car.

I am definitely calling Marcus' brother as soon as we get back to the house.

***BCH***

Bandit knew the route home well, he'd been living there for almost a decade before it all happened. He passed the same familiar homes, the same small parks and people milling about in their daily routines. It seemed as if the rest of the world had continued going on its business, not caring what happened. It wasn't until he turned onto the cul-de-sac that he started to feel sick. The Retriever's had already gotten their home started on, and Wendy had also gotten the damaged parts removed. But in the center… Bandit pulled his car to the curb and tried to stand on the lawn.

He could feel his body doubling over on itself. It seemingly rejected the reality in front of him as it tightened and forced him onto his knees. He didn't fight the rising bile as he felt it in his throat. In a moment he was retching up the meager contents of his stomach. He gagged again as a new wave of nausea and pain wrenched through his insides, but this time there wasn't anything left but saliva. He spat as he felt himself go dizzy, realizing the sensation from his days in touch football he ducked his head between his knees, not wanting to pass out on what had once been his front lawn.

"Woah! Mate! You okay?" A male voice shouted.

Bandit looked up for a moment before being overcome with a feeling of wooziness and sticking his head back between his knees. A truck with the logo of the contractor he'd called two days ago had arrived when he was vomiting. Great. This'll be one hell of a first impression. He heard a dog opened the door of the truck and run over. Bandit was still too occupied trying not to pass out to look up, but he attempted to control his breathing in order to talk. "Ay mate. Just got overcome for a minute. Gimme a moment and I'll be okay."

"Well, either way I'm making sure you don't black out." The contractor replied offering his paw.

Bandit waved his hand to try and dismiss the worry before eventually accepting the paw and slowly standing back up. When the spots disappeared from his vision he was greeted by a dog wearing a very concerned expression. He was also a Heeler-which wasn't too uncommon for an Aussie-and a bit shorter than Bandit, which also wasn't terribly uncommon. What was surprising was how he looked. The man was wearing a hardhat and a pair of thick plastic glasses, but aside from those affectations he looked almost exactly like…

"Wow." Bandit marveled for a second, glancing at the red heeler in front of him. He had a dark spot over his right eye and a cream muzzle that split his face down the middle. He even has the same spots on his side… "Don't take this the wrong way, but you look exactly like my wife."

The guy doesn't mind, "I'll take that as a compliment, I suppose." He shrugged.

Bandit immediately reddened, realizing the horrible first impression he'd made so far. "Sorry, let me try this all again…" He exhaled to clear his head.

"It's alright mate, I know things can be a lot when shit like this happens." He gestured to the house. "I've seen plenty of people at their worst. Even functioning after this kind of thing-" He nodded back at the home, "-it's tough. I don't want to get too personal, but this looks like it was a hell of a blaze, was everyone alright?"

Bandit looked away, "No. My wife, she didn't make it…"

The man's face fell, "Oh, I'm sorry."

There was a silence between the two for a moment before the man spoke again.

"Um, did you want to look at what's left? There's no structure of the house left for us to work with, so everything's slated to be demolished by the end of week, but I can let you see if there's anything you want to salvage. I already checked it out yesterday, so I can guide you around safely for you to see if there's anything you want to take."

Bandit was quiet a moment before he replied, "Yeah. Let's look."

The dog went up the front steps and pushed open the front door. The front room had been engulfed shortly after the upper level collapsed, with the stairwell barely recognizable at the new angle it had fallen to. The furniture had all been burnt to cinders, as had most of the rest of the furnishings. The dog lead him into the middle of the house, avoiding the holes into the crawlspace as they moved between chunks of the upper level and roof that had collapsed into the playroom. Bandit froze when they got to the playroom.

We're sorry Mr. Heeler, but upon recovering your wife it was determined that she was no longer living. The police officer had remarked as a black plastic bag was wheeled into a coroner's van. We are sorry for your loss. When you're ready to collect or release her body you can contact us at the number here, or have the funeral services contact us.

The man looked back at Bandit, "Hey, if you aren't okay we can turn back…"

Bandit exhaled raggedly, trying to control his breathing. "Let's finish looking, but not here."

The man nodded, turning right and leading toward the remains of the kitchen and the office that had collapsed onto it. He looked at the charred remains of his office. The specimens, the papers, everything he'd worked on for the last 15 years, gone. As he was about to turn back and ask to leave he noticed a small glint on something metallic. He walked over and pawed through the ashes, eventually revealing a small trophy.

Chilli Williams

Female Field Hockey MVP

1994-95

As he held it burst into tears. He remembered when Chilli had gotten the trophy, he'd been at the award ceremony-at the time they weren't yet dating, but they were close friends. It was the happiest he'd ever seen her, and he knew when he saw the look on her face he never wanted her to ever feel any less happy than at that moment.

"Thank you." He hoarsely whispered, looking up at the contractor with tears in his eyes.

A few minutes later Bandit and the man had left the rubble and were standing on the lawn. Bandit had just finished signing some paperwork, in no mood to have to tour the home again with another contractor.

"So, what happens now?" Bandit asked.

"After they remove everything we'll start construction. We have to use the same footprint, but you can change the interior layout if you'd like. Since it's in a historic district it'll have to be the same style, but you can change little things if you like."

Bandit nodded. "How long do you think it'll take?"

The man looked over, noticing how drained Bandit looked. "Probably six months, maybe eight. Depends on materials and approval from the city."

Bandit sighed, rubbing his paw over the smooth metal of the trophy after a moment he looked over at the contractor. "I'm sorry; I just realized I never asked your name."

"I'm Brett. Sorry to have to meet you this way mate, but I'll try my best to help in any way I can."

***BCH***

Bandit picked up the girls, apologized to Stripe, then got them lunch and settled. The apartment was quiet aside from the hum of the air conditioning and the television in the den-neither girl in much of a mood to play after being forced to with Muffin.

He flipped over the business card from Marcus and dialed the number on the back. After a few rings it connected and a man spoke.

"Hello, Dr. Ted Beagle, pediatric and general therapy, how can I help you?"