"Now you just wait here. Mummy will be done in a moment."

Rachel Carr sat stone-still in the dentist's waiting room. Her retractable walking stick resting neatly on her lap. With the exception of Dr. Wonka's commanding voice, the room was silent.

After a ten minutes of waiting, boredom was beginning to set in. Flipping open her stick, Rachel began to explore the room. At nine years of age, she was well adept at navigating her sightless world. It was only when she ventured outside the home did she need her cane.

In a flourish anxious fingers sifted through the piles of old magazines. Every one was a disappointment. The glossy pages were not braille.

"I knew I should've taken my Charlotte's Web with me." Rachel thought to herself.

Forgetting the magazines, she began to feel the contours of the room. Her quick mind counting every step. A habit she picked up whenever she went someplace new.

Suddenly Rachel drew her hand away. Cold metal and plastic. Springs, screws and knobs. She had stumbled upon Dr. Wonka's strange array of custom braces. Discreetly Rachel fingered her own teeth. They weren't exactly perfect, but not bad enough to warrant the need for such ghastly devices.

"Ahem..."

Dr. Wilbur Wonka's imposing form stood in the doorway. A surgical mask hiding most of his face.

"Are you bored?" he asked.

"A little..." Rachel quaked.

"Hmm..."

Removing the mask, Dr. Wonka went to the staircase.

"Willy!" he called. "There's a girl here your age. Why don't you take her outside and play."

Young Willy groaned at the idea.

"Great. Just what I need!" he thought. His mind still brooded on the idea that girls were yucky. They laugh at him. Tease him about the menacing contraption strapped to his head.

"I don't want to!" he called back.

His hopes of assertion were dashed at the sound of Dr. Wonka mounting the stairs.

"Now listen here, young man. Mrs. Carr is a patient of mine. Her little girl is down there all by herself. Now go make her feel welcome!"

Wearing his sulkiest expression, Willy obeyed his father. Though angry, he couldn't fight the curiosity creeping into his mind. There were no girls with the last name of Carr at his school.

Suddenly Willy stopped dead in his tracks.

He had never seen girls as beautiful or cute. But Rachel was entirely different. Thick cherry red braids hung down her shoulders like flowering vines. A nest of freckles congregated around her pert little nose.

But those eyes!

Pale blue irises peered out from their milky surroundings. There were no pupils. They were dead eyes.

"Mr. Wonka!"

Suddenly the chocolateer faded back into reality

"Mr. Wonka!" Charlie called again.

"Huh..."

"There's a clog in the gobstopper machine!"

But before Willy could react, the pressure building in the machine reached fission. A hailstorm of gobstoppers erupted from the blockage. The candies ricocheted around the inventing room like manic pinballs. Quickly Charlie and Mr. Wonka took refuge under the the worktable.

"Well if that wont wake up in the morning, nothing will" Mr. Wonka said with a nervous giggle.

Charlie cast his mentor a quizzical gaze.

"Its one in the afternoon" he said.

"What have I told you about mumbling."

Finally the jawbreaker maelstrom slowed to a halt. As Charlie and Willy emerged from the chaos, they found themselves knee-deep in gobstoppers.

"Its okay" Willy chimed. "We'll get this spruced up in two shakes of a lambs tail."

With the help of several oompa loompas, the dunes of gobstoppers were packed up in boxes and sent down a conveyor belt. Once again the inventing room was back to normal. The only difference was an "Out of Order" sign hung on the gobstopper machine's lever.

"There" Willy sighed. "That didn't take too long. Though we did skip lunch..."

"I think my Mum made sandwiches" said Charlie. "You like Ham and Cheese?"

"Only if she cuts it diagonally."

Charlie couldn't hide his smirk. Just another of his mentor's weird little quirks.

Suddenly Willy came to a halt. A delivery loompa held out an armload of letters.

"Oh" squealed Mr. Wonka. "My replies have arrived."

"Replies?"

"Uh huh. I was thinking of marketing my candy to schools. Didn't think I'd get so many answers back."

Plopping himself on a stool, Willy began to sift through the mound of mail.

"What kind of candy will you be sending them?" asked Charlie.

But Willy didn't answer. His piercing eyes were locked on one letter in particular.

The Belmont Academy for the Blind

"Rachel?" Willy whimpered to himself. "...little Rae-Rae..."