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Title: Try-cycle
Rated: G
Warnings: Erm, none?
Summary: Willy Wonka has created the largest factory in the world and made things only one could dream of... But yet he can't ride a bicycle.
Disclaimers: Willy Wonka and all that copyright Roald Dahl, etc.
---
It had been two weeks since the factory had taken up a few more residents.
Of course, there was always room to go around. For seconds, for thirds.
Slowly, Charlie had come to find, he found a pre-existing evolution in everything around him. As in, the more he lived in the factory, the more he began to discover.
For example: a horde of oompa loompas always had "Poker Tuesday", where they would play a strange card game that would relate to poker over numerous concoctions of deformed candy. Occasionally, an everlasting gobstopper would come out in odd shapes, one like a crescent moon. Bonbons would look like twisted pretzels, lollipops would look like roadkill on a stick. Instead of throwing away these perfectly tasty but oddly shaped treats, the oompa loompas would play for them.
Charlie learned that they never allowed Fred to play. Fred always won. He always came out with an arm full of deformed goodies. So they had to hold their poker nights in a more secluded, private area only Charlie and the six little men knew about. Well, Charlie hadn't been told deliberately. He just happened to be going to hang his coat up in one of the closets and there they were, sitting on the closet floor, cards in hands, treats in front of them, large eyes staring up at the human boy as if neither by shock or care.
Willy Wonka was no exception to the rule.
Infact, Charlie learned at least one new thing about Wonka everyday. Wonka hated Wednesday's because they were in the middle of the week. He had allergic reactions to fluffy animals "I don't mind you bringing your homework here, but leave your school at school, would you?" he had said when Charlie brought the homeroom's pet ferret home for the night. And he was ghastly terrified of salesmen, because he couldn't trust the lot of them.
It just so happened to be the eleventh day Charlie had made his home in the chocolate factory. Now he was going to be learning the eleventh piece of personality that made up the new member of his family.
"Ugh!"
Charlie stopped, turning to look back at Wonka. The man in the maroon coat and top hat suddenly kneeled to the ground, supporting himself with his cane. "What's wrong?" the boy asked. He walked back to Wonka, hands to his knees.
"I don't feel like walking today," Wonka replied, "I think my ankles are inflamed."
"Inflamed? You've only just got up," Charlie informed.
Wonka plopped down on his rear in the edible green grass. "I did a lot of kicking in my sleep."
Charlie blinked, before sitting next to him. "We can rest for a while," he suggested.
"Mm. Then I'll be here all day."
"How come?"
"I don't know, really. My feet are acting weird. They don't want to move."
Charlie chuckled. "Well, what can you do if you can't walk?"
"Carry me!" Wonka exclaimed. He fell back in the grass, proceeding to make grass angels.
"I'm afraid you're a bit too... heavy for me to carry," Charlie disagreed lightly with a titter.
Wonka screwed his face and sat back up. "Too heavy? I have perfect weight for someone my age. Besides, you carry all those heavy books from school home. They must be heavier than me," he muttered. He poked Charlie in the arm, right in his very tiny muscle.
Charlie laughed again. "Well, they're different from carrying people."
Wonka sighed. No use trying to get the boy to carry him. Maybe if he called enough oompa loompas, they would carry him? No, they weren't hired to be any automobile. As the alabaster man pondered interesting and illogical ways for him to move without ever putting his feet on the ground, an idea suddenly sprung forth from the back of his mind. The one place where your common sense ruled over imagination. Er, it was a place he liked to ignore whenever possible.
"I got it!" Wonka declared. He snapped his fingers, which made a rubbery noise instead of a snap under those gloves instead. Charlie blinked at him, curious. Wonka pushed his cane into the ground, resting his wrist against the zebra striped ball up top. "I could ride my bike around the factory!"
"Bike? You have a bike?" Charlie asked.
"Of course!" Wonka snorted. He made a slightly perturbed face. "What young man doesn't have a bike?"
"Well, I'm afraid I don't," Charlie replied. He shrugged, but smiled nonetheless.
Wonka grinned weakly. He patted Charlie on the back. "We can fix that little glitch," he assured. He then groaned as he stood, using his cane to get up. "I mean, it just isn't right for any child not to have a bike in their life, just like it isn't right for adults not to have cars--or, um... let me think on it, let me think...!"
"You don't have to give me one, if it's a problem," Charlie said kindly.
"No problem. No problem at all." Wonka grinned again. He scowled as he gave one of his feet a good shake. "Bothersome things! Never liked walking early in the morning."
Charlie offered him his arm. "Do you need some support to the elevator?" he inquired.
"Elevator? No, I said I wanted to use a bike," Wonka corrected him with a raised finger.
"I know," Charlie snickered. He looked towards the direction of the elevator. Well, where it was supposed to be, but it was hard to tell. "But don't we have to go get the bike first?"
"Nonsense!" Wonka laughed. "We can have it brought here."
Charlie watched as Wonka gestured an oompa loompa trimming the sugar coated leaves on a bush in the shape of an elephant. The oompa loompa waddled over to his boss. With a series of gestures and body language, the oompa loompa crossed his arms over his chest roughly before departing upstairs.
Charlie watched Wonka as Wonka watched the empty, spiraling stairs the oompa loompa had disappeared up. "Come, come! We can't very well ride a bike on this grass!" Wonka declared. Gently swatting Charlie on the shoulder, the two ventured over to one of the winding roads that zig zagged and flowed like little rivers throughout the field of candy.
A second later, the oompa loompa returned. Wonka began jumping up and down, clapping excitedly. "Look, look! There is it!" he squealed, looking from Charlie back to the stairs.
Charlie watched as the oompa loompa carefully pulled the bike down the stairs. It was a large object for the little creature, but he managed well. It was a candy cane color, with rainbow ribbons hanging from the handle bars. It had a Wonka bar shaped seat, with another seat in the back. The front tire was three times larger than the tire in the back.
However, Charlie noticed one thing odd well, all considering about this bike.
It had training wheels.
The oompa loompa finally pushed the bike up to Wonka, the kick stand looking like a sturdy piece of red licorice. Wonka was still clapping. His amethyst eyes were practically glowing. He turned to the oompa loompa, making some sort of gesture that looked like disco dancing. Either way, it was a sign of thanks. The oompa loompa nodded and went back to his sheers and goggles at the trimmed bush.
Wonka's gloved hands stroked the handle bars. He circled the bike, his smile wide with pearly teeth. It was like he had never seen such a contraption before. "It's been months since I last rode this bike," he informed.
"It's a very pretty bike," Charlie complimented. He then frowned, confused. "But why are there training wheels on it?"
Wonka found the little bell he had on the handles. He tugged on the lever, the bell releasing a cute little jingle. It caused him to giggle behind a hand like a shy little girl. Memories of him riding on this bike for the first time flooded back into his colorful little brain.
"Training wheels?" Wonka finally echoed. He looked at the smaller wheels attached towards the back tire. "Those things?" He pointed to them.
Charlie nodded.
Wonka looked away, jaw clamped. He tried to think of an answer to that. "They help me stay upright," he finally replied. He laughed, "The point of riding a bike is riding it. Not falling off it."
"Can you not ride a bike without training wheels?" Charlie queried. Indeed, he was quite interested. He knew some kids older than him who still needed training wheels on their bike. But he never knew a man well in his adult years to need them.
"Well..." Wonka muttered. He tapped a finger to his chin. He made an embarrassed face. He couldn't say anymore, really.
Charlie understood. "You never learned to ride a bike without them, did you?"
Wonka made a little cough. "Er... Well, my father really didn't have the time to show me how... Ah."
"That's all right," Charlie reassured him. He patted a hand on one of the bike's seats. "If you'd like, I can show you how to ride without training wheels?"
Wonka's face brightened. "Oh, really?"
"Of course!"
"Well, let's strike a deal! You teach me how to ride a bike without the training wheels, and I make you your own, more special-er bike!"
---
Charlie was quite pleased with the deal. So the two shook on it, then crossed their arms over their chest in an oompa loompa fashion.
The two had relocated to another room. A large one with a tall, dome ceiling, and over half a mile of empty, wide hallway. Charlie figured this was the perfect place to practice, since Wonka didn't want to be spotted outside by the paparazzi trying to ride a bike. Oh, think of all the troublesome rumors that would cause!
Three oompa loompas in shiny, glossy blue jumpsuits had come to watch and also help if needed. They all sat behind a desk, their faces all the same.
Charlie looked over the nicely decorated bike.
"All right! I'm ready!"
Charlie gazed back towards one of the oval shaped doors. Instead of opening outward like a normal door, it lifted upwards instead. The sound of plastic rubbing against plastic and crunching noises echoed from the door. A moment later, out waddled Wonka. His entire body was wrapped up in bubble wrap. He wore a rather large white helmet, a pair of his bug eyed goggles, chin strap, soccer shoes, knee and elbow guards over his bubble wrap and a cup.
Charlie couldn't help but laugh quietly. "What are you wearing?"
"One can never be too cautious when riding a bike," Wonka replied. He continued to waddle loudly over to Charlie. His entire body was stiff being wrapped up with plastic and ductape. His arms hung out to his sides, his chin sunk into the collar around his neck.
"What's the bubble wrap for?"
"To cushion my fall, should I have one!" Wonka answered.
Charlie shrugged. "Well, if you think you can ride a bike wearing all that, let's give it a try then!" he said.
Wonka nodded. Well, tried to. Slowly, he waddled up to the bike. Charlie stepped back, giving him more room than he needed to get on. Wonka lifted a leg, before gasping when he heard a tiny rip. He put his foot back down. He thought for a moment, then lifted his leg again. No good; he couldn't get it over the bike. It was taped down tightly, and it would snap if it went any higher.
Wonka gazed back at Charlie. "Is there any way we can... lower the bike a bit?"
"I don't think so?"
"Well. If we deflate the tires, maybe it'll work?"
Charlie figured that would be best in this situation. An oompa loompa fetched him an air pump as he undid the sockets on the tires. The tires hissed out air, the bike only lowering a couple inches now that the air was all out. With some grunting and slight sacrifice of his man made protective bubble wrap suit, Wonka finally got himself propped up on the bike.
Charlie hooked the air pump on the tires. An oompa loompa jumped up and down on the pump, pushing air into the tires. Once they were filled up and sealed, Charlie brushed off his hands and looked up at Wonka. "Now, are you ready?"
Wonka inhaled deeply. His gloved fingers squeezed his handle bars tightly. "Yes... As I'll ever be," he breathed.
Charlie nodded. Wishing him good luck, he then unscrewed the training wheels. "Do you want me to guide you along?" he offered, reaching for the handle bars.
Wonka shook his head. Well, tried to. "No. I was told I took my first steps all by myself. So I should try to take my first ride all by myself, too."
Charlie smiled admiringly. He remembered how he had to have both his father and grandpa Joe guide him when he first started riding a bike. He respected Wonka's request and stepped back, allowing him to do as he wished.
Wonka narrowed his eyes at the seemingly endless, empty hallway before him. He made a determined expression, eyes fierce. He revved at his handle bars as if he were on a motorcycle. He carefully lifted one foot off the ground and placed it on the pedal. With another deep inhale, he the placed the other foot on the pedal.
Before he could even began to pedal at all, the bike instantly toppled over, causing Wonka to crash down on the ground on his side, still on his bike. The oompa loompas each held up signs reading "0.0".
"Well..." Wonka said. He spit hair out of his mouth. "At least the padding worked well."
Charlie helped Wonka and the bike up. "I think there's too much weight on it," he suggested.
Wonka scowled again. "I weigh perfectly for someone my a--"
"No, no," Charlie interrupted him softly. "The weight of your suit. I think it's too much. It doesn't allow you to move so freely."
Wonka frowned crookedly. He turned his head towards the oompa loompa judges. The neck turning made a squeaky noise in the plastic. The oompa loompas all nodded, agreeing with what Charlie had to say. Wonka looked back at Charlie. Charlie nodded at him now.
Wonka sighed.
---
"That's much better!"
Wonka reappeared from one of the rooms. This time, he wore only a helmet, knee pads and elbow guards. He was nervous. He knew while the ground certainly was soft from the carpet, he still didn't want to fall. He could get rug burns!
Wonka proceeded back to the bike. Charlie held it for him as he crawled on quite easily this time. He held the handle bars, both feet to the ground. He turned his attention down at the boy. "You really think this'll work? I shouldn't put back on the cup?"
"No, this is enough protection," Charlie gibed playfully.
Wonka nodded uneasily, his quirked frown mimicking that. He inhaled loudly, exhaling with sputters and puffed cheeks. Charlie stepped back again. Wonka placed a foot on one pedal, then after a moment of contemplating, put the other foot on the second pedal. He began to pedal off, swerving clumsily.
However, he didn't get far. Only maybe a foot or two. His coat tail got caught on the chain in the back tire. "Eeck!" the pale man shrieked as he felt himself yanked back. It caused him to lose focus and balance, once more flopping over on his bike on his side.
The oompa loompas rose their signs again. One of them gave him a "1.0" for effort.
Wonka laid there. The helmet was pushed into his forehead, causing one of his eyes to remain squinted. "Ah, well, not as bad as I anticipated."
"Oh, I forgot about the coat!" Charlie exclaimed. He quickly dashed over to Wonka, helping him up again. He frowned, ashamed. "I'm sorry. I should have known better..."
Wonka grunted as he yanked his helmet back into position, blinking his eyes. He then patted Charlie on the head. "No worries. Not your fault--it's the coat's fault," he assured. Charlie managed to smile weakly again.
"Now then," Wonka breathed, "let's try ag--"
With an "oomph", Wonka fell over. He had completely forgot his coat tails were still stuck in the chain.
The oompa loompas gave him a zero rating for a fall not so graceful.
"All right!"
Pepped and hyped up, Wonka yanked off his coat and tossed it aside with a loud 'whoosh.' It landed on a golden hand hanging on the wall, which gripped it tightly. Wonka brushed off his shirt, hands on his hips. He studied his bike standing quietly in front of him.
"Best of luck!" Charlie cheered.
Wonka nodded at him with a large grin of teeth. "Cross your fingers for me," he said. Charlie went to do so before Wonka suddenly exclaimed, "Oh! Only one pair! Both pairs is bad luck!"
Charlie thought about this, before crossing one pair and showing it to Wonka.
Wonka nodded gratefully. He climbed up on the bike, took the handles and pushed his feet on the pedals. He started up, began pedaling. He swerved like a drunk maniac, going left and right, twisting 'round and 'round. Charlie cringed, but clapped nonetheless for his effort. The oompa loompas just watched him with their blank stares.
"L--look! I've gone almost a yard!" Wonka squealed with delight as he watched his clumsy, shaky feet.
"M... Mister W-Wonka!" Charlie gasped. Wonka was too busy making sure his feet were at least allowing him to pedal that he wasn't watching where he was going. "Push down on the brakes!" Charlie shouted at him, running after.
Wonka looked up. He squeaked when he found himself riding into a wall. Before he could even realize what a brake was, the front tire slammed into the wall. Wonka keeled forward, toppling off the front of the bike and against the wall. He laid there, arms limp by his sides as he thought about his predicament.
"Well... I may have missed the brakes, but I didn't break anything."
The oompa loompas gave him "1.1"'s for his interesting position.
---
Charlie had decided it was best if Wonka took a break.
The two sat against the wall on the floor, enjoying a lunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with tapioca pudding. The oompa loompa judges had ventured off to go enjoy themselves some s'mores.
"Are you sure you want to continue?" Charlie asked. He worried for his friend. Albeit having not been even bruised each time he fell, he still worried that he may get hurt sometime down the line.
Wonka carefully and neatly peeled off the crust around his sandwiches. "A man never won anything by giving up... Well, unless it means keeping your pride, then... well, no," he replied.
Charlie nodded, having to agree. "Shall we call it a day then?"
Wonka took a large bite of his sandwich. "Nahoh, I sthill wanna tryh ahfew more times," he answered around a mouthful of food.
Charlie admired his persistence. He finished his tapioca pudding with one last swallow. "Well, then, I have an idea," he stated.
Wonka made tiny little hissing and spitting noises as he tried to get the peanut butter off the roof of his mouth. When he began picking at it with his finger, that's when he noticed Charlie staring at him. He silently stared back with wide eyes, mouth hung open with a finger shoved into it.
"Duu say?"
---
"Is this necessary?"
"Well, I think it's a start. You began with way too big of a bike."
Wonka stared down at a child's sized bike. It was a bit too big for an oompa loompa, but still very small to Wonka. Wonka squatted by it, poking it with his finger, eyeing its features. "I'm just afraid I may not fit on it," he murmured.
"It's worth a try," Charlie said.
Wonka nodded, having to agree. He hopped up on the bike, finding himself only having to haunch over just a little. It was a safe little bike, with padded handle bars, a nice round seat and brakes that came on the bars rather than by the pedals.
"Just pull back on this when you want to stop. Pull on it lightly, not too fast," Charlie informed. He demonstrated by squeezing the handle and its brake bar.
Wonka gave him an a-okay sign. He looked back at the three oompa loompas. One of them was still eating his lunch, chocolate and marshmallow coated around his mouth. "Ready, judges?" he asked. The three judges gave thumbs up, one of the thumbs covered in milk chocolate.
Wonka nodded sternly again. He mouthed to himself a reminder of where the brakes were. He then put his feet on the pedals and began riding. Once again, he swerved and he twisted. But he had gone farther than he had gone any other attempt.
Charlie clapped excitedly. "You can do it, you can do it!"
Wonka slowly began to lose all his nervousness. A big beam filled his face. "I can do it, I can do it!" he echoed happily. He had gone five yards, now working on his sixth. He was going faster, occasionally squeaking or grunting when he nearly lost his balance, which was frequently.
But each time he managed to elude falling over, the more proud he felt. With this pride, he allowed himself to go faster. Charlie grew worried. "You're going too fast! Slow down!" he shouted after him.
Wonka could barely hear what he had to say. But the faster he went, the more he was starting to lose balance. He began to panic, forgetting what he was told. He then remembered the brake, and the brake meant it would stop--
However he forgot that he had to pull down on the brake gently.
Instead, with his adrenaline clogging that common sense, he squeezed the brake's lever tightly. The bike came to such a sudden, sharp halt; it caused Wonka to slam into the front, then painfully fall over. The bike was next to fall--right on him. Charlie flinched, then ran to the moaning man.
The oompa loompas all gave him "2.0" for increase in distance.
Charlie pushed the bike off Wonka. Wonka laid there in the fetal position, making tiny little cries. "Are you all right?" Charlie breathed, kneeling beside him.
"I--I'm okay," Wonka whimpered behind a little high pitched whine.
"Did you break anything? Cut, bruised?"
Wonka slowly uncurled. His face was a bright red. His hands were clutched over his crotch. "Can I please use the cup from now on?" he sniffled.
---
After six more attempts, and nothing more higher than a "2.0" vote, it was all ready dusk and everyone was tired. The oompa loompa judges had retired, finding themselves working elsewhere. They couldn't sit doing nothing for too long.
Wonka tried his very hardest to hide any sign of depression. Although it did hurt that he couldn't even ride a bike. Here he had built such a fantastic factory and made things only people could dream of. But here he was, unable to even ride a bike without training wheels.
"I suspect the family is waiting on us for dinner," Wonka stated with a soft chuckle.
Charlie, even if he had been with Wonka for only a short time now, could see through the happy facade. "Tomorrow?" he replied.
"Tomorrow?" Wonka rose a brow.
"Tomorrow we'll try again, all right?"
Wonka stared at him. He smiled weakly. "By tomorrow my feet will be cooperative and I'll want to walk. So it's no problem, " he said with a swish of his hand. Charlie stared sadly at him. Wonka looked away and continued onward. "I wonder what mother will make tonight? You think roast duck? Peacock? How about boar? Really, maybe she could try something new and interesting--"
Charlie watched him as he rambled to himself while proceeding out of the room. All that nonsense gibberish was to distract his mind. Charlie gazed at the two bikes and the training wheels left discarded off to the side.
He wanted to help more. He really did.
And it was in that moment Charlie realized just how he could help by getting better help.
---
While Charlie was away at school, Wonka enjoyed himself an after afternoon snack. It would only be a little more time before Charlie returned home. So the man in the top hat and maroon coat sat at his mile long table he rarely used anymore, now that Charlie's family had moved in.
Two oompa loompas brought him his food and drink.
"Tofurkey, tofurkey," Wonka chanted the name of his dish. He had a goal to try every food at least once in his life. Especially if it could help him come up with new flavors for his candies. Today's after afternoon snack would be a slice of tofurkey and cocoa.
Using knife and fork, he sliced off a small corner of the tofu and placed it in his mouth. He chewed it slowly, allowing his taste buds to digest the flavor. He then swallowed loudly, and proceeded to wash it down with his entire glass of hot cocoa.
He stared at his plate of food. A small slice of tofurkey minus a corner and a single parsley leaf for display. He looked back and forth, seeing if anyone was watching. Slowly, he pushed the plate forward, pulling some taffy from one of his coat pockets. Happily, he munched on the taffy instead, forgetting about his goal for exotic new food for today.
"I'm back!"
Wonka had just began to stretch the taffy in his mouth out by six inches, before the arrival of his dear friend suddenly caused him to let it go and slap him in the nose. He squeaked and rubbed his nose as little Charlie shut the door behind him.
Wonka wrinkled his nose. He reached up, pulling down a loud speaker connected to a cord. He called into it, his voice echoing in the large, wide room, "Welcome back!"
Charlie ran past the long table and its empty chairs. "I have a surprise for you!" he gasped breathlessly.
"A surprise?" Wonka squealed. He shoved the taffy in his mouth, chewed it up quickly and swallowed. He stood immediately, excited. "Show, show!"
Charlie allowed himself to catch his breath as he smiled up at Wonka. Wonka's smile remained wide, but his eyes darted to and fro nervously. "Is it... a good surprise?" he asked quietly.
"Yes, yes," Charlie managed to stutter. He put his book bag down, then took Wonka by the hand. "Come on!" He pulled the dawdling Wonka with him, who tried to catch up.
Once they were on the other end of the room, Charlie pushed the door open and yanked Wonka into the hall. "My, you certainly did eat all that sugar I packed in your lunch!" the pale man laughed down at Charlie. Charlie was smiling and gazing at something else down the hall.
Wonka took notice of this and looked down the hall. His eyes widened, nearly popping out of his sockets. A few yards away was Dr. Wilber Wonka, still dressed in his white, crisp dentist uniform and coat. He smiled softly at his son.
"Da... daddy?" Wonka murmured.
"Interesting place. I can see it's a mirror of that stubborn imagination of yours," Dr. Wonka said in his deep voice.
Wonka smiled sheepishly, hands over his lap. "Why, thank you. You helped a bit--those coloring books you got me when I was younger. They were a nice source of inspiration," he chuckled nervously.
"Ah, yes." Dr. Wonka chuckled as well.
"What are you doing here?" Wonka inquired. He slowly approached his father. "I mean, aren't you supposed to be working--?"
"This young man here came by the office and told me you needed help with something," Dr. Wonka answered, nodding to Charlie. Wonka looked back at Charlie, then his father. He tensed a little when his father walked up to him, standing only a foot or two away. "Something only I can help with," he finished.
Wonka just blinked.
---
"Must--must we do it outside?"
"Of course! Whoever heard of a boy riding his bike inside the house? It's preposterous!"
Wonka whined as he chewed on a purple hanky. His father and Charlie had taken him down to the beach. It was a cool day, and nobody was around. He wore his thick goggles and a short coat instead of his long one. "You'll get a lot of space out here to ride," his father informed.
"I'm not sure if I should thank you or not," Wonka whined down at Charlie.
Charlie just smiled, holding onto Wonka's bike. "Don't worry. Fathers are professionals at helping children ride bikes," he assured.
Wonka just sighed. He was constantly looking to see if anyone was staring. It wasn't like he minded too much going outside. But again, he didn't want anyone to see him riding a bike and probably falling flat on his face.
"Take those blasted things off!" Dr. Wonka scowled. He yanked off Wonka's hat, causing him to yipe. He then forced off the goggles, causing another jump. "You won't be able to see where you're going!"
"S--sorry," Wonka swallowed.
Charlie took the hat and goggles as Dr. Wonka took control of the bike. "Put on your safety equipment. I don't want you getting any injuries, minor or major," his father ordered sternly. Wonka nodded, pulling on his helmet and strapping down his elbow and knee pads. His father nodded in approval, then held the bike to him. "Now, get on."
Wonka gave one last look around the empty beach, and down the desolate sidewalk he would be riding down--hopefully. Wonka took a hold of the handle bars, climbing on the bike, feet to the ground.
"Now," Dr. Wonka began. He took a hold of the handle bars and his son's hands. Wonka felt a warm chill go up his spine at the familiar touch. "Put your feet on the pedals. Don't worry, I have the bike steady," he assured. Wonka nodded, breathing heavily as his feet seemed to unglue from the concrete and on the red pedals.
"Don't worry," Charlie assured, "you'll do just fine."
Wonka flashed him an unsure smile. He then looked forward. "Now... start pedaling," his father ordered.
It took a second to register, but finally, Wonka began pushing down the pedals. Slowly, the bike moved forward as he pedaled and his father pushed. Wonka believed the only reason he didn't have a mouth full of sand was because his father was keeping the bike steady as he moved.
They began at a slow pace. Wonka pedaled slowly, as his father walked alongside him, keeping the bike into place as he rode. "Now... keep at this pace. Remember, keep focus on the road ahead. Clear your mind; don't think about too much, it'll knock off your concentration," Dr. Wonka explained as firmly and slowly as possible.
"Right, right," Wonka replied, nodding feverishly, "right, right, right, right..."
Slowly, but surely, Dr. Wonka let loose the bars. Wonka found himself alone now, pedaling. In that instant, when he could no longer feel his father, he panicked. Gasping, his foot accidentally scrapped off one pedal, causing the bike to swerve off the sidewalk and into the sand.
"Uwah!" Wonka squealed as he fell over on his rear in the sand. Well, he anticipated sand in his mouth, this was much better...
"Willy!" Dr. Wonka howled. He marched up to his son. Wonka instantly stiffened, arms flying over his face for protection. Dr. Wonka took his hand and pulled him up. "Are you all right?" he asked, concerned. Wonka blinked, expecting some sort of lecture.
"I... I'm fine."
"Good."
Dr. Wonka dusted him off and pulled him back on the sidewalk. "Let's try again. This time, don't be so afraid," he ordered.
Wonka stared at his hand, holding his father's hand. "Right..."
"That was a good try, though!" Charlie complimented.
Dr. Wonka picked the bike up and propped it back on the sidewalk. "All right, Willy. Back on the bike." He gestured to the bike, stepping away with one hand holding a handle bar.
Wonka fixed his coat, brushing off his bottom. Clearing his throat, he walked up to his father, looked at him, then slipped onto the bike. His hands squeezed the handle bars. "Feet on the pedals," his father commanded. Wonka nodded, lifting his feet on the pedals. His father's hands instantly held tightly to his and the handle bars. That warm chill went back up his spine.
"Now..." Dr. Wonka squinted his eyes down the empty, sandy sidewalk. "Remember. Don't lose focus. Keep your eyes forward, and try not to think about too much. And don't be afraid, all right?" he explained. He looked back at Wonka, saying quietly, "I'll be right there."
Wonka swallowed, frowning sadly. The corners of his mouth slowly turned upright into a quirky little smile.
"Right!"
Dr. Wonka smiled all his equally white teeth. "All right then."
Charlie watched as Wonka began pedaling again with his father leading him along. "Now, just remember what I said. Don't lose focus, don't be afraid..." Dr. Wonka chanted, the two paying attention to the road ahead.
"Right."
"You'll be just fine if you believe so."
"I know that..."
"Good. Here we go."
Slowly, bit by bit, Wonka pedaled faster and Dr. Wonka walked quicker. Wonka listened to his father's words, focusing his mind and body on controlling this bicycle. They were going faster, quicker...
"Now..." Dr. Wonka licked his lips as he was going into a jog. "Don't be afraid! I'll be right behind you! You can do it, Willy."
That's when Dr. Wonka let go and stopped. But Wonka kept going, kept pushing and pedaling. He looked back briefly to see both his father and Charlie waving at him. Wonka grinned, finding himself not swerving or on the ground. He turned forward again, kept pedaling, kept himself focused, and remembered that no matter what, if he believed in himself, he could do this.
And his father--well, that helped him even more.
Then--Willy Wonka was riding a bike. Riding at a fast pace, riding without swerving, twisting, without going 'round and 'round, without falling over.
"Ah... haha!" he laughed.
It suddenly felt very good to be on a bike. Especially with the cold wind blowing in his face. His hair sticking out of the helmet brushed softly along his cheeks, causing him to fall into a deep relaxation.
Moving so quick into the wind, feeling weightless, feeling like he was running faster than anyone else.
It was a great feeling.
"Willy!" Dr. Wonka shouted. "Focus! Focus! BRAKES!"
Wonka's eyes slowly opened from dazing off from heavy relaxation. He then shrieked when he rode his bike right into a bench, causing him to fly off his bike, over the bench and into an old sand castle not yet swept down by the tide.
Charlie and Dr. Wonka instantly fled to his side.
Wonka sat up, spitting out sand bitterly. He unbuckled his helmet, tossing it aside. He shook his head, getting rid of the sand. "Blech." He screwed his face as he slowly lifted his arms, shaking the grains of sand out of his sleeves.
"Lost focus there, didn't you, boy?" Dr. Wonka chuckled, amused.
"A little..." Wonka snickered nervously.
"Are you hurt?" Charlie asked.
Wonka shook his head. "No. I'm afraid this doomed Atlantis broke my fall," he said. He looked over the sand castle, which wasn't much of a castle anymore.
"Good thing. I'm only good with fixing teeth," Dr. Wonka said. He held a hand out to Wonka. Wonka eyed it, before reaching out his own gloved one, taking the (rare and unusually) bare, wrinkled one. Dr. Wonka pulled Wonka to his feet, who squeaked and nearly fell back. Dr. Wonka and Charlie quickly wrapped arms around him, keeping him up.
"Did you break something?" Charlie inquired, worried.
"No," Wonka replied, "my feet just don't feel like walking today."
---
THE END
Riding a bike: Oh, come on. I just couldn't help but have thoughts of Wonka riding a bike and falling over each time. Can't blame me, can you?
Golden hands: The golden hand coat hangers are from the 70's version.
Tofurkey: A type of tofu