Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters which belong to Roald Dahl, Warner Bros. Pictures and Tim Burton. There is no intent to gain anything or anyone.
CatCF (movie) Alternate Universe
choc·o·ci·ol·o·gy n. 1. The study of human chocolate behavior, especially the study of the origins, organization, institutions, and development of chocolate society. 2. Analysis of a chocolate institution or chocolietal segment as a self-contained entity or in relation to chocolate as a whole. o. from choco(late)- (Spanish, from Nahuatl xocolatl : xococ, bitter + atl, water.) + logy, study (Greek "logi" see "logy") adapted from sociology by C. Bucket (see sociology)
Chapter 28 - Secrets and Understanding
Willy Wonka felt as if the whole world had slowed to a standstill, even his heartbeat and breathing seemed to stop, as he struggled to absorb Charlie Bucket's words. Love? Did he, Willy Wilhelm William Willoughby Willard Wilmer Wilton Wilfred Wilbur Wonka, even know what 'love' was? Sure, he knew he loved his chocolate and candy making. He loved the Oompa-Loompas. He had even loved his papa. He tried, with all of his might, to put love into every piece of candy, from the largest to the tiniest, that he made and sold. But love him? A frisson ran through his slender frame as revelation and pure joy dawned inside his soul. Charlie loved him. He had no doubts that the boy meant exactly what he said. Love, he knew from the books he had read, was suppose to be unconditional and for the very first time in his life, he understood what that meant. It suddenly didn't matter that he was not worthy. Love was and had been given freely to him. A warm glow of wonder filled his iolite eyes turning them to the color of the purest, highest quality amethyst. He looked down into Charlie's true blue eyes. Could he say it? Could he make his recalcitrant mind and tongue say it? He blinked and a single tear slid down his porcelain cheek, now touched with the faintest blush. "I . . . I love you too, Charlie." He wrapped long arms gently around the slim boy. His eyes slid shut as another tear fell. "I love you. You are the very best, most special, wonderful friend I could ever have in the whole wide world." He shook his head. "I don't know what I did to deserve you." He swallowed and shivered.
Charlie gladly sank into the warm hug, feeling his love returned a thousand fold. "By being you, Willy, by just being you," he said with the clear wisdom of a child. His heart recognized a simple fact, Willy knew how to give love, he just wasn't sure how to receive it or even if he received it. He could and would show his friend for the rest of their lives that he was loved and cherished. Charlie Bucket could not know he was not the only one trying to teach Willy Wonka that life lesson.
Willy sniffed and pulled out two white handkerchiefs. He offered one to Charlie, even as he dabbed his own eyes with the other. He sniffed again and blew his nose. The handkerchief vanished back into one of his pockets. "What," he swallowed again before continuing, "what do you want to do now, Charlie?"
Charlie smiled and wiped the tears from his face. He offered Willy his handkerchief back. Willy shook his head. With a silent sigh, Charlie placed it in one of his own pockets. Was the man always so generous with his possessions? The only things the boy could think of that Willy didn't want to share was his factory and candy recipes. Remembering Flicker, he thought of something else to add, his top hat. He had a suspicion his frock coat might also fall into the non-shared category. Returning to the question at hand, he spoke. "How about the merry-go-round?"
Willy nodded and they both walked over to the round metal playground ride. "Do you know how to work it?"
Charlie blinked and looked up at his taller friend. He couldn't see his eyes to know if he was serious. "You stand on it, grab one of the rails," he pointed to the railing that divided it in fourths, "and push it with a foot to get it started. Then, you grab the wheel," he indicated it in the center, "and turn it as hard as you can to make it go faster."
The candy maker scratched his head. "Okay. I can do that." He stepped on board and waited for Charlie to join him.
"Turn the other way," Charlie instructed with fond exasperation.
Willy looked at him puzzled.
"So you won't be pushing with your hurt leg," he explained.
Willy mouthed a silent 'oh' and obediently turned around to face the other direction. Charlie got on the opposite side from Willy and they both pushed off. After they had it moving as fast as they safely could that way, Charlie shouted, "Grab the wheel!" With a nod, Willy reached over and grasped the center wheel with both hands. Charlie was there a second later. They began to turn it, spinning around faster and faster. The faster they went, the more Willy giggled. The wind of their spins blew his hair back from his face and he smiled as he leaned back to look down at the ground. He glanced up and stared at the trees and the glimpses of buildings, including his factory, as they whirled by. Starting to feel dizzy, he looked at Charlie and grinned widely, showing perfect white teeth. He began to laugh again. Laughter being contagious, Charlie soon joined in. Breathless, they finally let the ride slow to a stop.
"I'm dizzy," Charlie managed to gasp between giggles.
"Me too!" Willy grinned madly, a slightly manic look in his eyes as he leaned toward his friend. "Let's do it again!"
Charlie's shoulders shook with silent laughter at the man's youthful enthusiasm. "Maybe later. Let's go swing some more," he suggested.
As readily as any small child, Willy accepted the new idea happily. "'Kay," he chirped and eagerly bounded back to the swings. He looked back over his shoulder at Charlie. "Come on, slow poke!"
Charlie laughed out loud. "I'm coming!" He ran to join his friend on the swings.
As with all good things, the morning eventually came to an end. Charlie looked up at Willy sadly. "I have to go home for lunch."
Willy nodded. He knew it was important for the boy to eat. He certainly needed to put on some more weight. However, the man was sorry their fun was over.
"Why don't you come with me?" Charlie asked eagerly.
The chocolatier frowned slightly. He really wished he could take his friend up on his offer, but didn't think it was fair to the Buckets. He realized that Mr. and Mrs. Bucket worked as hard as they possibly could to provide for their son, but it just wasn't enough. He thought about it some more, then smiled again. "Hey! I got an idea!" He nodded to himself. "How about I go get a basket of food first? Yeah! And then we'll eat it at your house."
Charlie considered it. He knew his parents didn't like accepting charity. But was it really charity when it was a friend? It would be like them eating at Willy's house. Besides it was probably the only way to get Willy to come. That decided him. "Okay!"
They walked to the corner below the factory. "You wait here. I'll be right back!" Willy looked both ways and then strode across the street. He slipped in through the little gate on the left and quickly disappeared inside. Charlie stood, trying to be patient as he waited. He watched people walk by. Some were companionably chatting with each other. Others walked briskly as if in a rush to get somewhere. He caught sight of movement inside the gates and looked closely. It was Willy and he was carrying a large wicker picnic basket. The chocolatier paused just inside the gate as two men strolled by, walking their dogs. One had a really little dog and the other one had a really big dog. Neither men noticed the man inside the chocolate factory waiting for them to pass. As soon as they were a few feet away, Willy slipped outside his gate and hurried to the street. He carefully checked both ways again, before scurrying across to Charlie's side.
Charlie pondered what he had observed as they walked down the street. He decided to ask Willy. "Why didn't those men see you? You were right there."
Willy shrugged. "I guess because they weren't expecting me to be there. Sometimes people don't see what's under their own noses because they just won't look, Charlie."
The boy nodded thoughtfully. "One of my teachers said the same thing last year."
"Don't be like them, Charlie. It's important to see what's around you." Willy wished he had known that earlier. If he had really paid attention, the spies might not have gotten into his factory. Back then, he had been so accepting and naive. He had blithely gone about the business of making chocolate and candy with the blind belief that no one would have reason to interfere. After all, everybody (except his Dad) loved candy. Right? He knew better now, but the lesson had hurt a lot! He wondered why he hadn't known better. It wasn't like he didn't already have first hand experience of what people were capable of doing. Still, he'd finally learned and was now much more capable of figuring out other people. Hopefully, he could help Charlie to avoid his mistakes.
Mrs. Bucket was startled when Charlie burst in with Willy right behind him. She smiled at the happy pair. "Hello boys, did you have fun this morning?"
"Yes, Mom, it was great!" Charlie exclaimed.
"Yes ma'am," Willy responded.
Charlie's mother surreptitiously examined Willy from head to toe. He certainly appeared to be doing all right. While he was still limping, he also wasn't leaning on his cane. He waved it around casually as if it was an accessory rather than a necessity. Both of them had a lot more color in their cheeks. They looked flushed and happy.
"I brought food for lunch," Willy offered the basket he was carrying to his hostess.
Willy's hopeful expression silenced whatever rejection Mrs. Bucket might have made. She accepted the gift graciously as one friend from another. She turned around and placed it on the kitchen counter. Opening it, she set about adding Willy's food to what she had fixed. It wasn't until she pulled out the warm loaf of bread wrapped in a red and white checked cloth that it dawned on her. "Willy Wonka!"
Willy jumped in startlement and looked wide eyed at the woman. "Yeah?"
Mrs. Bucket turned and placed her hands on her hips. "You gave us that food!"
He blushed and looked down. "Yeah," he said in a small voice.
"You fixed the house!"
Willy nodded silently, looking like he wanted to sink through the floor.
Just then Mr. Bucket walked in the front door. He paused, his usual cheerful greeting halted by the confrontation in front of him. What now? "Mrs. Bucket?"
"Willy," Mrs. Bucket stated firmly, addressing her husband directly, "gave us all that food and fixed the house!"
Mr. Bucket considered this and looked at Willy. The man looked like he wished he could vanish. "Willy? Is this true?"
"Yes sir," Willy managed to squeak out.
"The coats? The hats and gloves?" Mr. Bucket asked, just to be certain.
Willy nodded miserably. Charlie went to his side and took one of the uncomfortable man's hands in his own. He leaned against his friend, offering silent support. The chocolatier glanced at him, smiled wanly in gratitude at the gesture, before returning his gaze to his feet.
"Why?" Mr. Bucket asked as gently as he could.
"I wanted to help!" Willy looked up briefly at the couple. "Charlie's my friend and I just wanted to . . . help." His expression crumpled. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do anything wrong." He squeezed Charlie's hand once and then released it. "I'll . . . go," he whispered.
Charlie looked anxiously at his parents just as his father held up his hand.
"Willy, wait. You didn't do anything wrong." Mr. Bucket exchanged glances with his wife. "We were just . . . surprised. That's all. Thank you for the, uh, assistance." He didn't say charity because he had suddenly realized it hadn't been charity to Willy.
Willy blushed and looked up shyly. "You're welcome." His anxious gaze shifted to Mrs. Bucket.
Charlie's mother pushed her hair back and smiled at the nervous man. "It was very kind of you," she affirmed. "Do you assist a lot of people that way?" She needed to get Willy back to where he was comfortable as quickly as possible. It would never do to scare the poor man off. Charlie would never forgive her.
Willy shook his head. "Not in the same way. I mean I do help as many as I can. It's most important to give back to the community and since I no longer, erm, employ the people who live here, I support it in other ways."
"Oh? How?" Mrs. Bucket asked as she set out the food, now genuinely curious. She really wanted to ask how Willy had managed to repair the house all by himself and without waking them, but didn't want to scare him again. She directed her curiosity in what seemed a safer direction.
"Mostly donations," Willy answered truthfully, as he helped set the plates out. "Anonymous, of course," he explained at the Buckets' look. "I make quarterly donations to the hospital. Those are for the children's wing. I make an annual donation for general purposes." He nodded before continuing. "I give to the food banks and homeless shelter," he began ticking them off on his hand with a guileless lack of pride or modesty. He was merely reciting facts. "The animal shelters and the recreation funds." He glanced at Charlie and smiled slightly. "I donated money to put a new roof on . . ."
"My school!" Charlie exclaimed. Everyone had wondered where the timely gift had come from and now the Buckets knew.
It appeared Willy wasn't as cut off from the outside world as everyone believed. Not if he knew when the roof of Charlie's school had started leaking so badly, the parents were afraid it would have be shut down and the pupils sent elsewhere. That donation had arrived like a bolt from the blue before the news had even reached the media. How had he discovered the need? Mrs. Bucket wondered just how much Willy had 'given back to the community'.
"I also made a donation to the local playhouse so they could get back on their feet after their theater burned down."
Mr. and Mrs. Bucket exchanged thoughtful looks. The papers had reported that as a gift from an anonymous group of theatrical goers. No one had a clue it had come from a recluse who had never seen a performance. It seemed nobody was associating the random generosity with the wealthiest man in the city, Willy Wonka. It was really unfair that credit wasn't being given where it was due. Of course, knowing Willy as they did now, it would probably bother him greatly if word did leak out. Not to mention, bringing people clamoring at his door for support. They didn't have to say a word to each other to know that they would keep Willy's 'little' secret and allow him to continue living and giving in peace.
Willy shrugged. "I have more money than I know what to do with anyway." Most of it went back into the factory and to build support for the Oompa-Loompas for when he was . . . gone. That still left a LOT of money in Willy's accounts. Not many people knew how much since Wonka Worldwide was a privately held company. They were also only marginally aware that it had a single owner. As Willy had explained to Charlie, people frequently didn't see what was under their own noses. Having been cheated by the spies and rival candy makers, he now worked it to his advantage as often as he could.
