Prologue, Part Two
Once Augustus made way, another girl approached. This had to be Violet. Her father owned a thriving used car dealership. This left her Mom to please herself. She did a few shifts on reception at the dealership each week, and otherwise maintained a steady clientele at the local beauty parlour, where she worked as a nail and makeup artist; not that the mother was interested in anything but her own hair, nails, and makeup! Oh! Her trips to the local nightclub, with the people she knew from work, were also dear to her heart.
During her earlier years, Violet had been brought up by her grandmother, someone who loved her dearly. 'Grams' had seen to Violet's manners, and had brought her up to dislike the makeup and beauty products her mother was so fond of. "A little makeup is alright, Violet dear, but the colours need to be tasteful; they have to suit your complexion; the more natural they look, the better. Pale pink nail varnish is suitable at your age, and others might be alright as you get older, but I hope I never see you wearing pillarbox red! That's just tacky!"
Unfortunately for Violet, her grandmother had died before Violet had turned ten. Without her, Violet was cared for, essentially, but anything else was left strictly up to her. Violet was obsessed with chewing gum. Her mother's dislike of the substance only encouraged her in the habit, but there was more to it than that. If Violet did something her mother objected to, she got Mom's attention: even arguing was better than being ignored.
Loving gum as she did, the only reason Violet had bought any chocolate bars was to have a chance at winning a Golden Ticket. This conclusion put Willy off her immediately. She seemed obnoxious, and rude, and far too self-obsessed. She wouldn't care about anyone but herself. The way her father acted, as if the Golden Ticket affair were simply a way to advertise his used cars, brought Willy back to his book: A Little Princess. He could only hope that Mr Beauregarde didn't invest so much time in his business that he spent no more time with his daughter than Captain Crewe had managed!
Remembering Sara Crewe, Willy wondered… hoped… Would he find a Sara amongst all his ticket winners? Was that asking too much? Returning to Violet, James had said that she had looked interested when he approached her about the gobstopper. He also said he saw money signs rolling through her father's eyes when he heard of the opportunity. Then Violet had turned away, with an audible, "Nah! Gobstoppers aren't gum! They don't have the same staying power!"
James had chuckled as he reported her words; it seemed that James felt she had real potential. Willy, however, shuddered. If given the choice, he would rather choose a person with almost any other vice to a girl who used gum as if it were cud, chewing incessantly. At least there was a point to a cow chewing cud. If you weren't a cow, chewing gum did nothing but give your jaws a workout! And it was horribly sticky and messy. Take it out of your mouth, and it went everywhere it shouldn't. As far as Willy was concerned, his first impressions of Violet made her an untenable choice.
Feeling a wave of revulsion pass through him, Willy shook himself: he had to give the girl a fair trial. When pondering the best room to introduce Violet to, the room that would encourage her to show off her potential, Willy remembered that he had experimented with gum. He'd thought gum a good way to deliver a three-course meal to someone. No other sweet, he'd decided, could do that in the way gum could. He had conducted all the experiments necessary to find this out; he knew he was right. Perhaps Violet would be interested in seeing his experiment. Maybe, if she were a better fit than he expected, he could get her involved with refining it, making it marketable.
Currently, the idea was on hold, with the three-course gum machine in a room that was rather too far off the beaten track. But, if he had someone who liked gum on hand, it might be easier to refine the difficulties. He'd move the machine to the Inventing Room. Willy already wanted the tour to include the Inventing Room. The gobstoppers were in that room, and with James planting seeds of intrigue regarding the gobstoppers, it was essential they go there. If there were the slightest chance that they would resume work on the gum again, the machine would need to go to the inventing room anyway, and, with two important things to look at in the Inventing Room, there would be twice the reason to visit the place. Plus, Violet's potential downfall, mixed with the catch-all cure of the gobstopper experiment, would be killing two birds with one stone.
Violet's potential downfall? Killing two birds? If he had been alone, sardonic laughter would have filled the air. That word 'potential' was surplus to requirements. This child was a wash-out before she even started. Scolding himself again, Willy reminded himself that he was not to prejudge the child. He didn't know her yet. He would let her take the full audition, just like every other ticket winner would. With a beckoning hand, Willy invited Violet, the chomping champ — chompion? — and Mr Beauregarde, to head on through to the courtyard of the Factory.
Next to reach Willy was Mike, the fourth ticket winner. He was ten years old. He seemed fascinated by guns and television. He was another who didn't like chocolate, preferring other kinds of candy, but, like Violet, Mike had decided to have his mother purchase some chocolate each week, until he found a Golden Ticket anyway.
James' report from having met the boy noted that the family lived in an affluent home. The mother was a high school teacher, teaching Geography. The bumptious 'I know everything, and am always right,' attitude the woman exuded was infuriating. Even just watching her acting the self-righteous housewife on the television caused Willy's hands to flex. There was one thing certain, if Willy were to judge the children based upon the adults they had brought with them, none of them would be a good fit for the Factory. And Mike was further away than most. Mrs Teevee united avarice and arrogance in a way that made Willy's skin crawl.
With his Mom being on a school timetable as well, Mike never wanted for being doted on by her. The father was high up in… television! That was what had begun little Mike's obsession with the object. The father was almost never home, and this was the way Mike connected to him, by watching things Mike knew the man had worked on. If he developed a shared interest, 'Pop' might take an interest in him, after all. Mike watched TV constantly. He went from one programme to the next, and dressed as if he were a character in a Western — right up to the two toy guns: substitutes for the Colt .45 his father wasn't willing to give him until he was 12.
When he was watching TV, Mike was fit for nothing but that programme, and if the show were on during meal time, his Mom would bring a tray in, and place it on his lap. Willy was astonished she didn't feed him, mouthful by mouthful. Honestly; could this child do anything for himself? He seemed to have been taught that, if he just sat and let others get on with it, everything would be done for him. Did the boy even have a brain? If he did, it would surely be mush. Still, mush was mouldable, perhaps. If one could be bothered trying to mould it.
James had only smiled, and stated that possibly this boy would be interested in the Wonkavision Room. Actually, it was likely that all the children would be interested in that, but Mike likely the most. Willy had smirked, and written 'Wonkavision Room' on the schedule. But like Violet, this child seemed to be a hopeless case. Mike and his mother were riveted by the offer given to them by 'Slugworth'. Against all odds, upon hearing the offer, Mike turned his attention away from the television and actually listened, calling his Mom over. This caused Willy to immediately place a question mark in the 'trustworthy' column under Mike's name. There was no point in picking an heir you couldn't trust.
James was quick to defend the boy, pointing out that maybe this was exactly what Mike needed. Maybe this would encourage him to become the best person he could be. Maybe he would end up being a good fit for the Factory. Willy decided that he would withhold judgement, and see what he was like today, but, for Mike, the pre-tour information was not looking good. With that thought, Willy warmly ushered the wanabe gunslinger and his mother through into the Factory grounds.
There was one child left. That would be the anomaly, the one they knew so little about. He stood in ratty clothing, with an older gentlemen next to him. The latter's outfit was definitely old fashioned, but not too worn. They didn't seem to have the sense of entitlement that the others had, and both seemed thrilled to be here, in a way that the others weren't. Something inside Willy relaxed upon seeing this. People who were interested in the Factory, and in his candy, for themselves? How refreshing! They were locals of course, which could well explain the interest. Familiarity might breed contempt, but it could also foster a sense of belonging, and it seemed that this pair might own a sense of loyalty to the brand that belonged to 'their' town. Of course, that sense of ownership might inspire an even more insidious sense of entitlement in the boy, it was hard to know.
James had discovered this ticket winner before the news had. With less than twenty-four hours before the tour started, as soon as he finished all of his last minute jobs to prepare for the tour, James had left to head to Bill's candy store. His mission: to see if he could locate the ticket that had been sent there; a mission which had abruptly ended, when he realised the ticket had just been found! It had been discovered by a boy who, when James took on his Slugworth persona and asked the boy to steal from Wonka's Factory, 'looked troubled, sir'. Beyond that, James had had little to report.
Looking at the information there was available in the morning papers, Willy found that the boy's name was Charlie Bucket. He was eleven years old. He lived on the outskirts of the city, with his Mom and four grandparents. He attended the local school, and after school, had a paper route. This handful of statements summed up all the local news people had been able to dredge up about Charlie Bucket. As if that were any use!
This meant there was nothing for James and Willy to discuss. They would just have to take this latecomer as he came. Given their lack of knowledge about the boy, Willy wondered if they had already let him down. It seemed that the full tour experience would be missed by this small boy. It was a sobering thought, but Willy determined that he could not let this happen. Just like the others, Willy would find some way to let this lad show what he was made of. Not that he would be a good candidate of course! There were no good candidates for the job — not in this crowd — which was why Willy kept telling James that the event was a travesty, and if there were no other way of doing so, the gobstoppers would prove it!
Willy stood back. These five were the candidates he had going into the tour… The four wretches, and… The Enigma. How would the day end? What would Willy be left with when he finally closed the doors again? That was the question that haunted, but now that it was happening, stirred excitement in him. Now he would see for himself what each of the children were really like. Now he would be able to introduce them to the Factory. The thought that had appalled him, now thrilled him. With a few more words of welcome, he let Charlie — the enigma stigma? — and his grandfather into the grounds. Let the weeding out, er, the audition, begin!
My thanks to everyone who has read this. The prologue, of sorts, is now complete.
Guest: Wilder Wonka — Veruca doing what she is told would be a challenge indeed. But, without a few challenges, would there actually be a story to tell? I wonder if that might be boring. Read on, and in a few chapters time, you will find out how things work out for her.
You might notice that I call Mike, and his mother, 'Teevee.' This is due to the 1971 Film using that variation of the spelling, rather than the correct 'Teavee.' I debated which version to use, but in the end, decided that I had better stick with the film version.