Good Morning, Starshine

It seemed as if the roof was to come down from raining, even on this gigantic place. Veronica looked around her old house with an empty sort of stare, taking in the walls that had been stripped of all their new-age art decor, and the floors that were empty of all rugs and furniture.

You'd think, she thought, you'd think I'd have more than a few suitcases worth to bring...but I suppose none of that trash is really worth dragging across the Atlantic.

She tucked a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear, sighing a little. And why aren't I sad about leaving?

A resounding chime rang through the front hall, and she gathered up her suitcases, dragging them all to the door to greet the damp taximan. Her responses to his cheery inquiries were minimum, and by the time they were driving down the street, he had given up on talking to her. She leaned her forehead against the cold window, feeling as if it were burning up inside the unbearable heat of the car, and watched the raindrops make their way across the window.

I think, though, I might miss New York.

She raced the raindrops against each other across the window all the way to the JFK airport. It was a dreary flight across the ocean, and she took very little in, watching the in-flight movie with little interest. But finally, after hours that ticked by like years, the plane was ready to land, and Veronica sat up straighter, looking out the window at her new home with a sudden bright glimmer of interest.

The airplane lowered itself through the dim clouds towards the shining city below. Lights and signs glittered upon the Earth, twinkling merrily through the snowflakes that flittered down, brushing softly against the windows of the plane before continuing their journey downward.

"Now arriving at the London International Airport. Please remain seated until the plane lands..."

Veronica pulled out a small photograph showing a smiling man and woman. Her eyes rested on the woman's face for a moment before putting the photo back in her pocket, and looking back out the window to watch the landing.

------

Mr. Bartholemew Bucket studied the picture in his hand - a photo of a seventeen-year-old girl with hazel eyes and rather plain, dirty-straw-colored hair. She had a bright smile in the picture, and a nice deep blue dress - it was obviously a school photo of some sort, perhaps one she had taken back when she had been planning to graduate from the high school she once attended in New York City. He'd never met the girl, but he could see his wife, Kaitlyn Bucket, in her face - it was, after all, his neice. But he hadn't seen his sister-in-law since...well...since the falling-out they had, back before his old bookstore had gone broke...even before Charlie was born. Well, they certainly aren't very close in age, but hopefully she'll have a friend. She'll need one in this time.

He sighed, leaning against the wall and watching as the docking gates opened and passengers came pouring out, hugging and kissing loved ones and laughing. Loosing your parents...and right before Christmas, too. That must be hard.

Bartholemew's eyes landed on a girl in the midst of the passengers, who was looking around curiously. He glanced at the picture, and then went over to greet her.

"Er...hi, are you...Veronica Lewis?" He asked nervously. She looked up and nodded.

"Uhm...Uncle Bartholemew?" She asked, sounding equally nervous. He sighed in relief and smiled warmly, nodding.

"Yes, that's me. How are...how are you feeling?" His smile turned into a worried frown. She looked away.

"I'm ok."

Bartholemew's frown became stronger, but he let it pass. Must be hard to talk about, poor girl.

"Well, let's go get your bags!" He said, feigning cheerieness. He picked up one of her carry-ons for her and they headed for the baggage department.

-----

After the two had gotten the bags loaded into Mr. Bucket's car, they hopped in and began the long drive towards home. Unlike in the cab, this car was freezing. Veronica shivered a little and pulled her skirt down over her knees, rubbing her legs together to keep them warm.

"Er, sorry about the cold," Mr. Bucket smiled apologetically, "Heating's broken. I'm needing to fix that."

"S'okay." She replied in a small hiss through her chattering teeth. It was all she could manage. After a moment, she looked over at him. "Didn't you guys, like, win some gigantic prize or something? My parents...um...didn't say much about it."

Bartholemew nodded. "Well...I would tell you about it, but my son wants you to be surprised." He smiled warmly over at her. "He's very excited to meet his cousin."

She gave a weak smile back. "Cool. Don't Grandma and Grandpa live with you guys."

Bartholemew nodded again. "Yep. They're looking forward to seeing you as well."

Slowly the busy roads of London gave way to quieter streets, until they had entered a little town on the outskirts of the grand city. Veronica looked out, eyebrows raised at the quaint little town. An enormous set of factory towers loomed in the distance, and they continued making their way towards them until they had arrived at the gates, Veronica growing more and more confused.

"Uh...is this where you work?" She asked, looking up at the gigantic building.

"No, this is home." Bartholemew grinned. "Surprised?"

She looked positively confounded. "Yeah...?"

"Don't tell me you haven't heard of Wonka's Chocolate factory."

"I don't watch much TV...this is it?" She blinked, her eyes brightening. "So...it was your son that won that one contest thing? I barely heard a word about it."

"No? That's surprising. I'd of thought everyone had heard."

"I kinda spent a lot of time on schoolwork this year. Junior year was a hard one; I barely had any time to pay attention to that sort of thing."

Bartholemew parked the car just inside the gate. "Yeah? Well, this is it."

I wonder, though, what she'll think when she meets the owner of this place...or the other way around, for that matter.