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uncaaj · 1 month ago

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Fanfic: A Granddad Day Out (Bluey)

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Bingo scampered into the playroom to see their parents preparing table favors. Streamers, and paper flowers littered the plastic table atop the kiwi rug. Bingo looked to her left and right, then to her parents. “Mum, where’s Granddad and Bobba?” she asked.

Chilli creased her paper and set it down. “They’re out for the day with Frisky’s dad, remember?”

“They’re havin’ a granddad’s day to get to know him,” said Bandit, in-between breaths into a red balloon. “We’re all gonna be one big family soon.”

“What are they doing?” asked Bingo.

“I’m…not sure,” Chilli remarked, scratching her head. “Did they tell you where they were going, babe?”

“Nah,” Bandit shrugged, tying off the balloon. “But they’re probably down the pub or the bowling alley. Typical granddad stuff, ya know?”

Chilli stood up and mimicked her pup’s previous visual search. “Where’s your sister? It’s time for flower girl practice.”

“She’s coming, she’s on the porch,” Bingo answered, pointing out toward the hall.

“BINGO, come on!” Muffin shouted from the yard. The little red heeler startled and dashed off toward the backyard where her cousins and aunt and uncle were waiting by an archway. Chilli grabbed a crown of flowers and followed after. “Don’t forget your fancy dress!”

+++

Stepping into the facility, Bob Heeler, Mort Cattle, Gene Spaniel and tag-along Maynard beheld lots of granite and crystal in this front lobby, a swift change from the beer-stained wood and felt dart tables some of them were used to for a day out with prospective new friends.

“It’s very…clean,” said Maynard.

“I feel like a bara outta water,” said Mort.

“Don’t worry,” said Gene, “by days end you’ll wonder how you ever got on without this.”

Bob and Mort had hesitantly agreed to Gene’s choice of venue for their day off from supervising wedding preparations. To that point, their only interactions with Frisky’s father had been taking over chewing out the caterer after Gene had told them “don’t sweat it, mate, just do your best.” To say they were skeptical after Gene offered them a stress-relieving outing on his dime would be a slight understatement. Maynard on the other hand was all too happy to follow Mort wherever. Thus, they left their take-charge dad mantles at home and walked up to the front desk where an afghan hound smiled warmly at just a bunch of old blokes.

“Welcome to Oasis Hot Spring,” she greeted, “Do you have a reservation?”

Gene stepped in front of them to handle the business. “Yeah, love, Gene Spaniel?”

The attendant typed for a moment on her keyboard and said, “Perfect, you’re all checked in. Just so you know, our facilities are phone-free so please lock them up safe and sound, if you don’t mind.”

Mort, Bob, Gene nodded their heads at the receptionist. “You too, Maynard,” said Bob, glancing at the wolfhound.

Maynard shrugged. “Don’t have one.”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Gene chuckled, adjusting his shark tooth necklace.

“‘Cause people kept ringing it!”

Bob gave him a playful sneer. “You sure you ain’t holdin out on us?”

“I can vouch for ‘im,” said Mort.

The receptionist handed over a set of keys on maroon lanyards and gestured to their left. “Lockers are right through here along with towels. The rest of the facilities are yours. Enjoy!”

“Right, boyos,” said Gene, passing out the keys before raising his arms in victory. “Let’s get naked!”

Everyone cracked up and followed him toward the locker hall, except for Maynard, who looked back with an incredulous look. “I don’t get it,” he said, “we don’t wear clothes anyway.”

“That’s the joke, Maynard!” Mort called. “Come on!”

Maynard kicked it into gear and headed inside.

+++

MORT, MAYNARD, GENE & BOB: “This episode of Bandit is called ‘Granddad’s Day Out.’”

+++

Gene drew the white silk curtain back and met with rows of lockers on either side of the hall. The old dogs each padded along the cold stone floor to the locker number inscribed on their key to deposit their extranea.

“What exactly do you do at these hot springs, Gene?” Bob asked. “You’re the expert.”

“Well, they have mud baths, massages, typical spa stuff,” said Frisky’s dad, “Or you can just dip into the hot spring and watch the day pass.”

“Would they have the cricket up anywhere?” Mort asked, tossing his green fishing hat into the locker.

Gene laughed. “Nah, mate, I don’t think they would.” Gene closed his locker and stretched his neck, grunting as it popped and snapped as it rolled atop his body. “Man, I should’ve booked a massage. Can’t take the chop like I used to.”

“Come again?” asked Maynard.

“Oh, I mean the rough waves. I surf.”

“You surf at your age?” asked Bob. “You still got one of them surfer nicknames too?”

“Yup, it’s Wake,” said Gene, gently tossing his long hair back. “You and Chris are on the Gold Coast, right? What’s your excuse?”

Bob cleared his throat and shut his locker. “I’m down the beach most days. I…was never much of a surfer though. I played footy until I did me hip in.”

“That’s hardcore, mate,” said Gene. “We all need somethin’ to keep us young.”

Bob smiled at the understanding response. “Yeah, being Bobba for my grandpups took that place.”

“This guy right here keeps me young,” said Maynard, slinging an arm around Mort. He couldn’t hold a blush back as he returned the favor.

“Well, then you can scrub your mate up,” said Bob, gesturing to a sign posted on the wall. “Gotta be done before we dip in the pool.”

Upon exiting the locker room, the grandads were met with an expansive atrium lounge with wall to ceiling windows displaying a tranquil world outside, deliberately disconnected from both the concrete jungle of Brisbane and the dirt stained chaos of the bush. Signs pointed them to the communal showers which were lined with white tile with accents of sky blue. Stools flanked carts of specialty toiletries and tall mirrors, providing a viewpoint to aid cleansing. Bob and Gene took the two stations in front of them while Mort and Maynard shared one immediately next to them. Thus they washed not only the day’s grime so far but the stress and emotions of the wedding planning away.

When finished Mort shook the excess water from his shaggy fur and rose up. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt more clean.”

Gene replaced his handheld nozzle, having just rinsed off. “They use the hot spring water here too, ripper stuff.”

“What do ya reckon, Bobba?”

Bob brushed his arms out, drops of water cascading onto the tile. “My fur feels kilos lighter. I could be done with the shower, frankly.”

“Don’t quit early, eh?” Maynard appeared, or it looked like Maynard if he were a sheep.

“Dude,” said Gene.

Bob choked back his merriment but Mort didn’t have such restraint. “I think you need a shear, mate!” he said between belly laughs.

Maynard leaned forward, hands on his hips. “Been dealing with this coat for 60 somethin’ years! You can’t pierce through me with your cracks!”

“Not with that parka on ya, we can’t,” said Bob. The two old Heelers guffawed and stepped carefully across the wet floor toward the waiting hot spring. “Time for the main attraction,” said Gene, lining up behind. Maynard trailed them, growling.

+++

The soft new age music continued outside, not missing a beat and perfectly enhancing the vibe of the hot spring. A small waterfall fed the steaming pool, a combination of machine cut and natural scraggly stone. Deep green bushes lined the far side of the pool while trees towered over the whole facility, isolating the spa in its own little bubble.

Bob dipped his toe into the spring and all the tension in his paw seemed to melt away. “Ooh, that hits the spot.”

“Don’t forget yer towel hats,” said Gene, wrapping his small towel into a ball and holding it upon his head. The others copied the hot spring veteran before all four old dogs eased themselves down the stairs into the steaming pool. Their collective aged, scratchy howls of relief could be heard from the parking lot as they lowered themselves to the underwater bench all in a row, the healing water rising to their shoulders.

“That good, eh?” said an approaching waitress.

“You’ve no idea, love,” said Gene.

“Whole parking lot knows we’re here, I reckon,” said Mort with a chuckle.

“However you enjoy yourselves is fine with us. We do recommend staying hydrated due to the hot spring’s high temperature, so can I get you gents started with something?”

“A big fizzy water sounds good,” said Maynard, looking to the others for their preferences.

“Fruit juice for me,” said Gene.

“A spritzer,” said Bob.

“I’ll have what he’s havin’,” said Mort, gesturing to Maynard with his head.

“Will do,” said the waitress with a nod, before she returned inside.

“Better make Mort’s a small!” Maynard shouted after.

Mort elbowed him. “Can it, you.”

Maynard scoffed. “I’ve been ragged on enough today. I’m sharin’ the wealth. ‘Sides, just trying to watch after you,” he said with a wink.

Mort’s smile contradicted his rolling eyes.

“How d’ya mean?” Gene asked.

“Can I, mate?” asked Maynard, adding to his request with the slightest please face.

Mort sighed. “I suppose you’d better.”

Maynard jumped right into his tale. “Right, so the other day, we’re at me petrol station, and we order curried sausages on delivery. Now I like mine with a bit of kick to ‘em, but Mort not so much.”

“I had no spice tolerance before India, then I got a taste for the real stuff,” Bob remarked.

“I just wanna taste the spice without the spice, you get me?” said Mort. “I dunno who stuffed up the order but my curry was so hot, I had steam pouring out my ears!”

“I had to keep passing the water bottles like sweets to cool his mouth off!” Maynard exclaimed. “Must’ve downed the upside of four!”

“Did you have to pay for them, mate?” asked Gene.

Mort shook his head. “A benefit of our relationship. And talkin’ of…”

At that moment, the waitress returned with the requested drinks for the four old dogs, complete with citrus slices underneath the clear ice cubes. They clinked them together and took simultaneous sips.

“Ah, good ol’ vitamin C,” said Gene, setting his glass next to him.

“Anywho,”said Maynard, picking back up without a hitch, “he was gonna pay for 'em another way. Not half an hour later, he says to me, ‘gonna hit the dunny.’”

“I go in there, and half the bloody bowl’s sheared off!” Mort chopped with his arm to emphasize the disbelief in his voice.

“Whoa!” exclaimed the two intently listening dogs.

“How d’ya reckon that happened?” Bob asked.

“It blew up a day prior,” said Maynard, matter-of-factly. “The aliens are out to get me, I tell ya!”

“And without the common courtesy of an ‘out of order’ sign,” Mort whinged, crossing his arms. “But then, it was near closing time so I figure I can hold on ’til home and not need a bush wee like some drongo.”

“Cause you’re stubborn,” Maynard japed.

“If I have a perfectly good toilet at home, why wouldn’t I use it? It’s there for a reason!”

“They’ve always been like this,” whispered Bob to Gene.

“Like me and my wife,” Gene concurred.

“Hence why you was bouncin’ all over my ute seat on the drive back,” Maynard pointed out.

Mort sank a little lower into the pool.

“Holy dooley, it was that bad?” asked Gene, slinging a leg atop his knee.

“It came on rather…suddenly,” Mort mumbled.

“It ain’t a short jaunt to the shop neither,” Maynard continued, “And yet you still refused, talking about preserving your dignity and whatnot.”

“And I would’ve been fine if some kangaroo hadn’t decided to have her joey in the middle of the road!”

“Get out! What are the chances?” said Bob.

“Bush life,” said Maynard. “I look over after 5 minutes or so of waiting in line, and there you are, holding yourself like a toddler, legs pressed together, saying, ‘Get around it, I’m gonna bust!’” Maynard imitated Mort’s potty dance with a pained look of his own, generating small waves in the spring. “And I say, ‘take the bloody bush wee, you old fool!’”

Mort rubbed the bridge of his snout. “A-a-a-and there goes me dignity again.”

Bob and Gene laughed. “Don’t worry about it, mate,” said Bob, “we’ve all been caught short before.”

“Yeah,” said Gene, “I remember I went surfin’ this one time without using the toilet before hand. Won’t make that mistake ever again.”

“How’d you solve that?” Mort asked.

Gene leaned back, eyes half-lidded. “I’ll just say, it’s a good thing my Speedo was already wet.”

Silence hung among them for a moment, before Bob double-taked. “Oh, mate!” All burst into wheezing laughter as the implication of Gene’s statement became known. Mort’s embarrassment was quickly forgotten as the laughter settled down.

Gene wiped a tear from his eye and said, “By the way, didja make it home, mate?”

“Nah, I wouldn’t have, and Maynard won’t spring for leather seats in his ute,” said Mort, getting one back at his mate, “so at least this bloke was the lookout when I took that ‘bloody bush wee.’ I’ll never make that mistake again.”

“Well, all’s well that ends well, eh?” Gene remarked before taking a sip of his juice and sighing. “Man, I feel like my muscles are unraveling.”

“This is the fanciest bath I’ve ever taken,” said Maynard.

Mort sighed. “Just think, our kids are busy folding party favors while we’re here living the good life.”

“You’ve changed my life, Gene,” said Bob, “Next time I wanna take Chris down the pub or the bowling alley, I’m taking her here.”

“She’ll love you, mate,” said Mort.

The four old dogs let the tranquil nature of the hot spring carry them to utter relaxation as they continued to experience the healing effects of the mineral-rich water and gentle breeze.

“Your eldest is a stand-up bloke,” said Gene, breaking the silence. “I’m glad he’s marrying my daughter.”

“Thanks, mate,” said Bob, “Frankly, I’m glad he’s marrying at all,” said Bob.

“What d’ya mean by that?”

“I just worried about him, you know? He was always a free spirit but he cared so much about his brothers. I knew he’d be a great dad one day but it was never top of his list. He was more concerned about traveling the world or making the most money. He’d say he was ‘searching for that missing piece.’ At some point, I thought he wasn’t gonna find it.”

“Sounds familiar,” said Gene. “Blokes like me and him just need to follow the wave wherever it goes.” Gene took another sip and smiled wistfully.

Bob raised an eyebrow. “You good, mate?”

Gene nodded. “Just…ridin’ memories, is all. I envy Rad in a way, getting to try so many dreams in his life. Havin’ Frisky squashed that for me.”

“When’d you have her, if I may?” asked Mort. “You seem pretty young, compared to us old geezers.”

“I was,” said Gene, “I was at uni when my wife, girlfriend at the time gave me the news, and people started talking around. And you know, people see a beach bum like me, feathers in me hair and such, on the surf team, they don’t immediately think, ‘he’d be a great dad, eh?’ I had to grow up. It was all about Frisk from then on.”

Bob told himself Gene was more than his beach bum exterior, but this confirmed it. “Yeah, havin’ kids changes ya like that,” said the grey Heeler, snapping his fingers to emphasize it. “It’s the only thing I’ve ever felt unqualified for, and I made a lot of mistakes for sure.”

“Tell me about it,” said Gene. “I am the first to admit I didn’t have a clue!”

“Took me shovin’ off to India to really let go of my younger hardnose tendencies, and all three kids said to me, ‘we coulda used that as kids!’” Bob laughed with a tinge of guilt and Gene followed. “How’d you handle it?”

Gene leaned back and threw both hands behind his head. “Once the denial wore off, I kissed school g’bye, married my girl, and got the first lifeguarding job I could find to make ends meet. I scrapped for everything I’ve given Frisk but I’d do it all again anytime, ‘cause I got an amazing daughter out of it. I know wherever she and Rad go from here, they’re gonna rip it up.”

“Cheers!” said Maynard.

“I’ll drink to that,” said Mort.

Bob sniffed. “I told myself I wasn’t gonna cry at this wedding and you got me doin’ it here.” The other piped in with laughs. “They’ll have to carry me away on a surfboard.”

“Hey, I’ll volunteer,” said Gene, raising his hand.

The dogs laughed and Gene grabbed his glass. “Bring it in, mates. To the soon-to-be wed, and to the great mates I gained in the process. Glad to know ya!”

“You too, mate,” said Bob. “You’re a good dog.”

Gene grinned. “Thanks.”

“Three cheers for Gene!” said Mort. The group cheered their drinks with a hearty “hip, hip, hurrah!”

+++

Retrieving his phone from the locker room, Bob was overwhelmed by the number of missed notifications waiting for him. “There might be somethin’ to your ‘people just kept ringing it’ business, Maynard.”

“You too?” said Mort. “I just knew they’d start a bush fire without our supervision, eh?”

“Grandads to the rescue!” cheered Maynard.

“Lead the way, mate,” said Bob, “you’re drivin’.”

But when they arrived back at the Heeler’s abode, all seemed normal. The “for sale” sign was still standing tall. They were welcomed back inside and led to the backyard to see the progress achieved. The tent had been raised and all the party favors were in boxes, ready to go on the big day. The kids and the grandkids were sure alright.

After dinner, the granddads rested in the TV room with Bandit, Chilli, Radley and Frisky, enjoying a more traditional old dog activity-watching the footy.

“You all are getting along,” said Bandit, munchin on a bowl of chips.

“Yeah, we had a great time, just what we needed,” said Mort.

“You sure you didn’t need us supervising?” asked Bob playfully. “I look at my phone after we left and I got all these notes from you and Chilli! What happened?”

Radley cleared his throat, drawing every eye to him. “Yeah, you ain’t gonna get mad when I tell?”

Bob put patted Gene’s shoulder “Mate, I promise you, nothing at all could take me out of the zen I’ve found today with me new pal.”

”There’s more to us ol’ sea dogs than meets the eye, eh?” said Gene.

“Hear, hear,” said Bob, clinking his glass with the spaniel, and the two took a hearty drag of their beer.

Rad scratched the back of his neck and gulped. “Well, here goes. I…almost caused Frisky to call off the wedding.”

Both sprayed their drinks on the floor, and all four granddads jumped up from the couch. “You WHAT?!” they barked. The take-charge dads had been remantled.

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