Jean sat with her eyes closed on the bench, listening to the sounds of the river as it flowed by. She had been stuck in her bed in the Oompa Loompa hospital for a week. They hadn't let her have any books or the radio. Apparently, she was suffering from a bad concussion, and they wouldn't let her do anything on account of letting her brain rest. She hadn't even had any visitors since she had first woken up. Everyday, she had overheard Charlie and her mother asking to see her, but they had been turned away with the assurance that she would get better faster if she were left to heal. In the course of the week, she had never heard Mr. Wonka come around and ask about her, but she tried not to think about that. Just as she thought she was going to go crazy with cabin fever, they let her out of bed for an hour. They helped her up out of the bed, and for the first time since she passed out, there was no dizziness. With an Oompa Loompa on each side to catch her incase she stumbled, she was led to the Chocolate Room. She was placed on a bench as the Oompa Loompas started to gather for sugaring and creaming time.
She watched them as they went about their business. They seemed to love their work and got along with each other well. They were like small children, not just in stature, but in playfulness as well. They would constantly be playing pranks on each other, but they always made sure that they were still friends by the end of the day. In her time at the hospital, Jean had managed to pick up a few words in 'Loompa-ish', as she called it. She had figured out simple words like please, thank you, yes, no, water, food, and other small things to help communicate. She had also learned that suffixes on the end of names told you what people thought of you. 'Pa' at the end of a name meant that the person you are talking to considers you a friend. So, she would be Jean-pa. If you didn't like someone, or wanted to show that you were angry with them, you added – 'soo'. For instance, Jean-soo. When the chocolate river had been sweetened to perfection, the small workers all gathered in a row on the opposite shore. They warmed up and sung a few chords, before launching into a volley of songs. They sung iterations of the song Jean had heard them sing after Violet turned into a blueberry, but with altered lyrics for each child. After that, they started singing songs in 'Loompa-ish'. Jean recognized the melody to a few pop tunes, but others she didn't know. Jean made sure to applauded after each song, and they all bowed at the end of their impromptu concert. When they finished, they all filed out of the door in the rock wall, leaving Jean alone.
As the silence settled over her, Jean took a moment to look around the room. It was just as magical as she remembered it. She had feared that her concussion had conjured up the magical dream, but it had been real. It all had. The golden ticket, The chocolate room, the Everlasting Gobstopper, Mr. Wonka's betrayal… In her boredom, she had dreamed up that Mr. Wonka had apologized and that her little brother had won. She doubted it, and chalked it up to her imagination.
Someone came whistling down the path, and Jean smiled as the sight of her brother came into view. "Charlie! Over here!"
Her brother looked around, confused, before spotting his sister. He ran over and gave his sister a big hug, but made sure that he was gentle. After a minute, Charlie pulled away. "I stopped by the hospital wing to ask how you were doing. They said they let you have some time out in the chocolate room, so I came to find you! They told me that you have a really bad concussion."
"Yeah." Jean placed a hand to her head. The swelling had gone down tremendously, but she still had a nasty bruise. "I still don't feel 100%, but I feel a whole lot better than I did before. How about you? How has school been?"
Charlie sighed. "Fine, I guess. Mr. Turkentine always explains everything so confusingly, but my lessons with Mr. Wonka have been going really well!"
Jean took a moment to process her brother's words. "Lessons with Mr. Wonka?"
Charlie beamed and nodded his head. "Uh hu. He's been super busy lately, but yesterday we talked about how to judge temperatures for candy without a thermometer. There's the softball stage, that means that sugar concentration is at 85% and somewhere between 234 and 241 degrees Fahrenheit. It's really soft and easy to mold, so it's perfect for making fudge. There's the firm ball, which is great for caramel. It has to be between 244 and 248 degrees and the sugar conc- "
"Wait. Hold up. Mr. Wonka is giving you lessons?"
"Yes." Charlie cocked his head to the side. "On candy making."
Jean waited for him to explain some more, but he didn't. "Why?"
"For when I take over the factory."
Jean wondered if the effects from her concussion were coming back. Had her brother really just said that, or was it her mind playing tricks on her? "And why do you think he is going to give you the factory?"
Charlie looked at her warily. "Because he already has."
Again, was this a hallucination, or reality? Before she could ask, two more people came strolling over the hill. The first person was impeccably dressed. He had on a fine suit that was clear of any wrinkles, and a tie that was not an inch out of place. His strange octagonal glasses seemed eerily familiar, but Jean couldn't figure out who he was until he turned around and spotted the Bucket siblings. As she caught sight of his full face, she gasped. On his right cheek, a long gash ran down the length of his face. "Slugworth!" How on earth had he gotten into the factory? Did Mr. Wonka know he was here?
Charlie looked quizzically at his sister before waving the two people over. "Mr. Wilkinson!" The two people started making their way over. Jean wondered what she should do about Slugworth, when her brother addressed her. "Don't you remember, Jean? He's not actually Slugworth, he works for Mr. Wonka." Jean remember it somewhat, she tried to think of where she had heard it. She gasped a little as she realized that she had recalled it from a dream. In her dream, Mr. Wonka had apologized, Charlie had won not just the lifetime supply of chocolate, but also the whole factory. It was revealed that Slugworth actually worked for Mr. Wonka, and there had been a fantastic elevator. They had flown up onto the clouds and then … and then … and then she couldn't remember.
The two men came striding up to the two of them. Slugworth, who was actually Mr. Wilkinson, bowed deeply. "Good afternoon, Charlie. Ms. Bucket"
"Hey, Jean!" She had gotten so worked up at seeing who she thought was an enemy that she hadn't taken the time to look at the other person. He wore black pants and a black bowtie to match. His shirt was a light purple hue. His black hair was greased down, except for a cowlick that he never seemed to be able to tame. He leaned over Mr. Wilkinson as he bowed, as if he were a table.
Jean smiled as she recognized the owner of the goofy face. "Bill! What are you doing here?"
As Bill answered, Mr. Wilkinson shook him off with an annoyed 'harumph' and straightened out his jacket. "Just came to see how my favorite employee was healing up."
"Oh my goodness! Bill! With everything that's happened, I forgot all about my job at the candy store! I'll get back to work right away!"
He laughed. "No, No. I've been fairing just fine. When you're all healed up, I hope you'll come back, but not a moment before you're back to your old self. And besides." He threw and arm around Mr. Wilkinson. "I also came to visit my big brother at work."
"By visit, he also means annoy." He glared at his little brother, but made no effort to shrug him off.
Both Charlie and Jean were a little starstruck at this revelation. Bill noticed this and bolstered himself up. "I bet you didn't think that you knew someone so famous."
"Yes." His older brother teased. "Younger brother to the secretary of Mr. Wonka. Someone call the press."
The two began bickering. Jean felt happiness bubble up in her stomach. Things felt sort of normal again. "Are you alright Jean?"
She turned to her own brother. "Yes. I feel great! I was wondering, though. Was Mr. Wonka giving you the factory real?"
"Of course! It's been so amazing! I get lessons with him everyday, then we usually have dinner together at our new little apartment in the factory. Mr. Wonka insisted that he would take care of everything for our family, but mom keeps working at the laundromat. I think it's because she doesn't want to seem like she's taking advantage of his kindness."
Jean mulled this over in her mind. So what she thought had been a dream was actually real. The Wonkavator, Mr. Wilkinson, and Charlie's prize had all been real. And so was his apology. She thought back to when she had talked to him in the hospital. At the time, she had forgotten what had happened, and only remembered him yelling at her brother. She had treated him awfully. She had yelled at him and gotten mad. Jean had been short with him for no good reason. She needed to apologize to him and let him know that she was sorry for treating him so poorly. She also needed to thank him for everything that he had been doing for her brother. Charlie's eyes had sparkled as he talked about his lessons with his mentor. By now, the Wilkinson brothers had quit their bickering. "Well, I ought to start heading back. Those candies won't sell themselves. I'm glad to see that you're feeling better, Jean." Bill waved at everyone before going back up the path and disappearing behind the bend.
When he left, Mr. Wilkinson let out a pent up breath. "I thought he would never leave. He's been hanging about and getting into all sorts of trouble all day."
"I know. Little brothers, am I right?"
Charlie glared at his sister. She was lucky that she still wasn't 100% better, or else he would have elbowed her in the side." Well I'll have you know that I have to go do some very important candy making things." He then stomped off. Jean chuckled. She loved her little brother, teasing him from time to time was just her older sister way of showing it.
"Hehe. Quite right, Ms. Bucket. If you'll excuse me, I have several letters that require Mr. Wonka's attention." He patted his coat pocket. "Good day, Ms. Bucket." He bowed deeply, then started down the path.
"Wait! Mr. Wilkinson!" She slowly stood up and used the arm of the bench for support.
Mr. Wilkinson turned around and walked back up to her. "Ms. Bucket, I really do not believe that you should be up and walking around like that."
"I know, but you said that you were going to see Mr. Wonka."
"Yes." He answered calmly. "If you need to tell him something, I can take a message."
"Thank you, but no. I want to apologize for being so rude to him earlier this week, and I really think that I ought to tell him so myself."
He seemed to take a minute to scrutinize her, before grinning. "If you insist, Ms. Bucket." He held out his arm for her to take.
She wrapped a hand around his elbow as he began walking at a slower pace for her. Jean was a bit stunned. She expected him to put up a little more resistance. That seemed almost a bit too easy. As they walked, she tried to think about what she wanted to say to Mr. Wonka. Sorry, of course, but there was so much more. She wanted to thank him for the tour, and for giving Charlie so much. She had questions, lots of questions. Would it be appropriate to ask him them now, or wait awhile? She also felt something for the chocolatier, but now was neither the time nor place to address that. She had never been very good at talking. She was shy and, unless she was angry or scared, could hardly hold a conversation with people outside of her family. She could do it with Bill, because she had known him for years from working for him. But Mr. Wonka, she had just barely met him, and yet she felt like she had known him for awhile. "You know, Ms. Bucket, Mr. Wonka is a very private man."
Jean was startled out of her thoughts by Mr. Wilkinson. He didn't seem like the type of person to enjoy small talk. "You mean he wouldn't like me coming to talk to him?"
"No. I mean that he is quick to be hurt even if he does not let you see it. It is hard for him to trust people."
"That's why I want to see him. I wasn't very nice to him the last time we talked. I want to apologize to him."
He hummed in disagreement. "While I am glad that you are going to apologize to him, that's not what I meant." Jean looked at him, silently asking him to elaborate. "Since Mr. Fickelgruber, Mr. Prodnose, and the real Mr. Slugworth started stealing his candies, Mr. Wonka has had difficulty letting people into his life."
"It seems strange then that he would let five children that he had never met before into his factory and randomly give his life's work to one of them."
He nodded. "Right on the nose, Ms. Bucket."
"You're trying to give me a hint for something?"
"Was that a question, or a statement?" Jean sighed. No one around here just gave you the answer outright. They continued walking in silence, Jean thinking over this new mystery. If she had a nickel for everything about this factory that she didn't understand, she would have enough to buy the world. Well, maybe not quite that much. But at least enough to by a Wonka Bar or two. Evidently, Mr. Wilkinson knew his was around the factory well, because they reached Mr. Wonka's office in hardly any time. He hardily knocked on the door. "I have your mail, sir."
"Come in, just leave it on the filing cabinet by the door."
From out of his coat pocket, he withdrew a stack of envelops. "One more piece of advice, Ms. Bucket." The tall man bent down just enough so he could whisper in her ear. "Don't let him give you the slip, he has a nasty habit of trying to distract people when he doesn't want to answer something. Just ask him all you want to know outright." He then forced the papers into her hand and briskly walked down the hall. Jean watched him speed away. He had planned to do that the whole time, hadn't he! She hadn't prepared herself for this. At the very least, she thought that she could enter the room with Mr. Wilkinson and not be by herself the whole time.
"I said you can come in, Mr. Wilkinson."
Jean took several deep breaths before putting a hand on the handle and opening the door.