"All This Will Be Yours" (3-3-06)
gen
rated G
soft Wonka/Charlie
The Great Glass Elevator landed softly beside a large crater, displacing a deep wave of lunar dust. As it settled, Charlie and Willy Wonka unfastened their safety harnesses. With a few experimental bounces they found their footing, testing the low gravity of the Earth's moon.
First the turbulent speeding journey from their town through space, now the giddy gloriousness of hang time--Charlie was thrilled. He ricocheted off the elevator walls in silent delight. With clumsy effort, he lit on his feet to gaze out at the distant but vivid Earth. Set against the velvety blackness of the universe, Charlie thought it was so brilliant it almost shone.
"Incredible," he gasped, turning to Wonka.
Wonka hadn't been leaping about, or even watching Charlie do so. He stared unblinkingly at the swirling blue planet--his expression keen, yet as distant as the Earth itself. He seemed so intent, Charlie turned back to look at it again too. "Do you visit here often?" the boy asked, hands splayed on the glass wall, nose pressed against it.
"Not terribly often," Wonka answered. "About twice a year. I like to keep it as a special occasion."
Charlie's eyebrows jumped. He felt he could come up here every day and never lose his awe for this extraordinary view.
Leaving Wonka still staring through the front of the elevator, Charlie inched around on the spot with little hops to survey the moonscape behind. Sharp, still shadows cast by rocks forced a monochrome sense of desolation. This angle, though impressive, was starkly forbidding. No cozy atmosphere, no comfort of clouds, no sense of life or color. Charlie suddenly shuddered to contemplate the nothingness surrounding them. He stepped back from the glass--the only barrier between protection and destruction.
Not that he was worried about the integrity of the capsule--the elevator had withstood many wild adventures and he trusted it. It was the moon itself and the distance he was wary of. Charlie turned back to Wonka and the reassuring sight of home.
"The Earth looks amazing," Charlie said. "Not many people get to see it like this."
"No. Just you, me...and maybe a passing astronaut," Wonka replied distractedly, scanning the vicinity for shuttles.
Charlie sneaked a peek at Mr. Wonka. He looked so calm and aloof, as if he didn't quite remember that Charlie was with him. Well, Willy wouldn't be scared, would he? Mr. Wonka was used to grandeur and spectacle. Charlie felt he was interrupting to ask: "But...doesn't it make you feel small and lonely to be up here all alone?"
At last, Wonka turned away from his locked inspection of their faraway home. For a moment he scrutinized Charlie incredulously, as though trying to determine whether the boy was joking. "On the contrary!" Wonka said.
"Really?"
"Of course. You just said it yourself. Only the big-shots get to see this. Doesn't it make you feel magnificently lordly and powerful to know that?" Charlie shrugged. Wonka continued, pointing at the planet. "This isn't meant for everyone. All of those people down there have far less than a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to this view. They have no idea what they're missing." Lowering his voice conspiratorially, he added: "But we know." Wonka's head turned with eerie smoothness back to the doors, regarding the world with a blend of longing and disdain.
Obediently, Charlie considered this. He tried to cultivate benevolent feelings, like a ruler over his kingdom. But the view was so striking he couldn't help being humbled by the splendor. He tried again, drawing on his imagination of Mr. Wonka's perspective as a superstar. This too failed. He inventoried his feelings. Charlie felt enlightened, a little apprehensive, pleased to be with Willy...but wished his family were here too...and his classmates...perhaps his whole school. He wanted to commune with the planet and with this experience, not lord over it.
All the same, he looked out over his empire. Far below...or ahead...or above, the countries rotated slowly by as Charlie tried to discern their boundaries. The contours used to mean what he learned in Geography lessons, but now he'd come to know them as destinations for candy shipments. The longer he looked, the more countries Charlie checked off his mental list. Wonka's chocolates were distributed to most of the facing hemisphere, and it was just as true of the other side of the globe. No wonder Mr. Wonka felt such an easy sense of ownership. In a way, the thought occurred to Charlie, as Wonka's heir--it was his. Their candy empire stretched impressively wide. Everyone who'd ever bought a candy bar--ever seen a candy bar--would know Wonka's name...and if they didn't know Charlie Bucket's name, they soon would.
His face lit up with appreciation, and the boy smiled proudly up at his mentor--an unspoken understanding passing between them, bonding them with secret knowledge. Wonka saw it on his heir's face, but Charlie simply declared, "I see what you mean!"
"Good. That's what I need from an heir."
"But," the boy said, his dominant "Charlie" half showing through again, "Don't you want to share this with other people?"
"I'm sharing it with you," Wonka pointed out, looking over the moon's gray horizon. "Until now I've always come up alone."
Charlie smiled even more proudly at that, impulsively taking hold of his teacher's hand. He beamed: Mr. Wonka had seen it his way too.