Long delay. I do apologize. You know how good books can be, stealing away every waking (and sleeping) moment. Oh, but are you starting to get the characters all muddled? Because now, expressly for your ease of comprehension, I have a list of Cherry Street people on my profile. Isn't that exciting? What's more exciting still is that, though this chapter is exceedingly brief for me, I have the next one almost ready to be released, so there won't be such a terribly long wait. Anyway, I will really very much appreciate any feedback I can get (and, as you may be able to tell from my lengthy pre-chapter ramblings, I love it when reviews are longer than the chapter itself. Specially special thanks to those who have realized that, and special thanks to those who deign to review at all). Ha! Done. Here comes the fun part.
Doug took his leave of Wonka's shop, Robin still trying to think up nonsense words and Willy still peering at the jellybean canister. Doug gently pulled the door shut and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Its concrete path wrapped around two sides of the candy store and continued down both streets. Wonka's served as the corner, the point where they intersected. Running down the left of the shop was Watermelon Road, with the majority of the ordinary clothing businesses and such. Cherry Street, with its plethora of candy shops and other edible-product stores, hugged the right. Just in front of Doug was a square of crosswalks, neatly connecting the sugary-scented shop with the aroma of leather from the shoe store across the street. Doug took a whiff of the air, with its combined sweet-metal-gasoline-leather smell, to reacquaint himself with the real world. A solitary car swept past, disregarding the red traffic light.The lightserved no purpose anyway, at the moment. The only prowlers of that part of town this early were openers for the stores, and none of them had much inclination to linger in the dim chilliness of September six o'clock. With a shrug, Doug jogged across the right crosswalk to the just-starting-to-function candy stores.
Slugworth's was a few down the line, but at just the right angle to be visible in certain spots in Wonka's shop. Doug glanced towards his own place of employ, craning his neck to try to glimpse the white-striped overhang shadowing the door to Wonka's.
"Right. Frank. Not Wonka," Doug reminded himself—quierbally (a word Willy had said once that had stuck in Doug's head and refused to leave. Doug guessed it was something between quietly and verbally). He smacked the side of his head to clear the nonsense and did his best to pass Slugworth's shop inconspicuously. Once he'd passed the line of sight of anyone inside, he crept back to the edge of the display window, scraping along the brick wall in a most spy-like fashion. He took in a slow breath and crouched under the window. Just his eyes, a deeper blue than either of his brothers', were visible above the sill, along with the hands cupped around them.
Doug had come to have very high standards for candy, its creators, and the décor of its residence over the past month he'd spent working for Willy Wonka. A few components of the expected brilliant absurdity were there in Slugworth's room, but it was still quite disappointing. First and worst, nothing at all hung from the ceiling. Nothing. Not even a cardboard advertisement. There were twirling glass icicle-like things dangling in the most inconvenient spots in Wonka's shop, and they had simply become part of what made it Wonka's. However, Doug did grudgingly note the mounds upon mounds of different types of sweets littering Slugworth's place. As much as he wanted to deny it, this shop did have more abundance of everything than his own. Of course, thought Doug in an attempt to soften the disappointment, it might just look like more due to the disorganization of Slugworth's. His own boss seemed incapable of letting anything candy-related be less than perfect. And really, for being in business only a month, Wonka's had surpassed even the loftiest expectations regarding amounts.
Doug shook himself again, attempting to squeeze out thoughts of Wonka's at least long enough to see what was up with his wayward brother. He peeked in, this time doing his best to ignore the design of the room and pay attention to people inside it. The layout being the same as Wonka's, except the location of the door, Doug expected all negotiations (especially regarding Frank) to take place in the room in the back. It was indeed a pleasant surprise to spot the familiar short blond haircut atop a familiar brother's head, that very head bent towards Mr. Slugworth's, and all just beyond the window. Doug suddenly realized how visible he truly was, and shot to the ground, very grateful that they'd both been conversing with enough intensity to disregard anything else. He pushed his ear to the brick just under the windowsill. As far as eavesdropping went, it wasn't helpful in the least, but it did keep his ear cold. He rubbed it and carefully placed it against the window, in precisely the position for his head to be hidden behind the Sizzlers on display. Deciding that people really did need to learn to enunciate better, Doug strained his ear and managed to snag enough words to get the general gist of the discussion.
By the time Doug had overheard the whole conversation and made it back to the shop (without detection), it was 6:30. Already, the walk in front of Wonka's was cluttered with people, squishing up against the window to see what odd and amazing event would take place that morning. Doug tried making his way to the back brick wall to get in, but even there, people were clustered in an effort to see through the windows that led to the back room or to be close to the beginning of the line up front. He shrugged. He was tall; at least he could see over peoples' heads into the front. He edged over to the back of that clump of bystanders and stood on tiptoe, assuming from their noise that there must be something going on.
Indeed there was. As everyone (apparently) had come to expect, Wonka et. al. were doing something weird.