Make a wish…Count to three

Rating: T

Info: This story is based on the old Wonka movie with Mr. Wonka played by Gene Wilder. (just so you know) It takes place after the movie when Charlie's family has moved into the factory and Wonka is teaching him how to run it.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or write the script for the movie. I am not making any profit off of this story and it's purely for my enjoyment. Yep.. that's all. Oh yes, and there's no such place called Waterdale-I made it up- and I know of a Forthlin road in Liverpool. (that's where Paul Mccartney lived)

Enjoy!

Her heart was pounding in her ears as she swiftly walked down the sidewalk. How could she have gotten lost? The directions were clear yet she couldn't find the house that she was looking for! She began to mumble about the cold and complain about how heavy her suitcase was when she saw a little boy look up curiously at her.

"Excuse me miss," he said slowly, "Do you need any help?"

She stopped in her tracks, blowing a piece of hair from her eyes and looking down at the tiny blonde head.

"Yeah, I'm lost." She stated, looking at her surroundings. There were a bunch of houses and a street… that's about it. Starting to lose her temper again she rose her voice,

"I have no clue where I'm going!"

The boy stepped back a tad and offered to help.

"Where are you headed?"

"Forthlin road."

There was a pause as the boy racked his brains for the address.

"I've never heard it. I do think that there's one in Waterdale though."

"Where's Waterdale?" she asked, hoping that it wasn't too far away. Her cousins were expecting her any minute now and she was standing in the street, talking to a little boy.

"About a days drive from here."

"A DAY!"

The boy stepped back further at her outburst and the woman noticed his fear. She stooped down to his level and said,

"Sorry 'bout that. My name's Clara Harrison."

"Nice to meet you Miss Harrison. Me name's Charlie Buckett. And I know where you can stay for a night or two."

"You do?" Clara said happily, now starting to shiver from the cold. The prospect of a nice warm room was starting to sound appealing.

"Yeah, follow me."

Guessing that the boy was as nice as he seemed Clara began to follow him down the street. They walked for about ten minutes when he came up to a giant gate. Behind that gate was a factory of sorts with plumes of smoke coming out of giant stacks. Behind the gate, just above the door, were purple swirly letters stating 'WONKA'.

"Where are we?" she whispered, placing her suitcase onto the ground and looking at Charlie.

"This is Mr. Wonka's chocolate factory."

"You live here?"

"Yep." Charlie replied, taking out a giant key from his pocket and sticking it into the gate. He twisted it around two full times and the gate popped open.

"Are you sure I can stay here?" she asked, visioning a dark gray room with a stale bench to sleep on.

"Yep." Was all Charlie said, skipping up to the front door and then abruptly stopping. He knocked twice and waited. Clara looked at the door then down at Charlie, nothing was happening. Just when she was about to get out of there the door swiftly opened and a strange man appeared. She guessed that this was the famed Mr. Wonka.

He was wearing a purple shirt with green bow tie and a long purple velvet coat over top. Sitting on his head was a brown top hat with plenty of brown frizzy curls poking out from the bottom.

"Charlie, where have you been?" he began in a warm tone, gently scolding the youngster, "You know that you can't go out wandering the streets anymore."

"But I was bored.." Charlie mumbled, shuffling inside the door with his head down. This left Clara standing by herself in the doorway with a nervous smile on her face. Mr. Wonka looked up at her and seemed surprised, (and a bit upset.)

"Hello," he began, staring at her accusingly, "Who are you?"

"I am-" Clara began, only to get cut off by Charlie who started the introducing.

"This is Clara Harrison and she's looking for Forthlin road, but I told her that it was in Waterdale, and she's very upset. She needs to get there quickly."

"I'm visiting cousins." She explained, Charlie still rambling on about their meeting.

"I saw her in the street and she looked very worried so I asked her what was wrong-"

This time Mr. Wonka cut Charlie off, looking at Clara while he spoke to him.

"That's very interesting Charlie but we can hear about it later."

Clara found it very spooky the way people would talk to another whilst looking into your eyes. She couldn't help but smile at the look that crossed Charlie's face, a scowl that was full of character.

"I'm very sorry," Clara began, picking up her suitcase, "But I'll just be on my way then. I'll stay in a hotel for the night.."

"Nonsense!" Mr. Wonka declared in a loud voice, "You shall stay here.. that is if I can trust you."

Clara cocked an eyebrow, still prepared to run for it if the chance came up.

"Whatever you see in this factory shall stay in your mind only, none other's. You can't even tell your bestest buddy about anything, or your mother. D'accord?"

Clara knew from her French lessons in school that d'accord meant OK in french.

"D'accord."

They stood there on the front step for awhile still, Mr. Wonka looking her over and Charlie standing behind him with a frown. She realized that he was trying to figure out if she was a spy or not and she suddenly felt very uncomfortable under his gaze.

"Are you sure she's not a S-P-Y?" Mr. Wonka asked Charlie over his shoulder, as if Clara didn't know how to spell. She rolled her eyes when he wasn't looking and tried to remain calm.

"I'm sure." Charlie told him confidently whilst fiddling with his thumbs.

"Where are you from?" Wonka asked in a stern tone, not finished his interrogation just yet.

"Canada. Toronto Ontario Canada to be precise."

"Ahh!" Wonka said, raising a finger in the air like he had come to a conclusion. And in asort of a way he had.

"Canadians are my friends, they have wonderful maple syrup over there. You can come in."

Clara was stunned at his reasoning but happy at the same time for having a warm shelter to stay under for the night. She grabbed her bag, hauled it into the doorway, and felt the heavy doors close behind her back.

No word could describe her emotions.