"Mesdames et messieurs, maintenant nous allons faire grand petit voyage par bateau," announced Mr. Wonka proudly, leading them to a small bend in the river where a brightly coloured dock was waiting for them.
"I think he said, 'ladies and gentlemen, now we are going for a great little boat trip'," translated Charlie, quietly. Em looked at him in astonishment.
"I didn't know you spoke French?" quizzed Em as they joined the back of the group now gathered hesitantly at the dock. Charlie shrugged.
"We study it at school."
The rest of the gathering were not so lucky and merely looked at Mr. Wonka in confusion.
"What's he on about?" barked Mr. Salt.
Mr. Wonka looked at them all expectantly.
"Voulez-vous entrer le Wonkatania?" he smiled at them pleasantly, waiting for a response. Em looked at Charlie for a translation, he obliged.
"Do you want to come on the – woah," Charlie halted mid-sentence, his eyes growing wide. Em followed his gaze.
Sailing calmly down the chocolate river was the most fantastical paddleboat Em had ever seen. Painted in delicate blues and whites, swirls of gold snaked themselves across the bow, the name 'The Wonkatania' emblazoned proudly against the blue.
A lacy canopy covered the deck, plush seats of striped red and white sat in rows of twos and threes, empty and inviting. Three Oompa Loompas dressed in white sailor suits with matching hats sat at the stern, two paddling slowly, leaving one to steer the boat gently in their direction. It was beautiful.
"What a boat," praised Charlie.
"Looks good enough to eat," added Mike, licking his lips slightly.
Eat? thought Em, amazed. No way could that thing be edible!
"That's a rather nice little canoe you've got there, Wonka," remarked Mr. Salt.
"All I ask is a tall ship and a star to sail her by," quoted Mr. Wonka, smiling at Mr. Salt distractedly.
"John Masefield," whispered Em, leaning down to her brother. He glanced up, his eyebrow raised.
"Showoff," he smirked. She gave him a playful shove as the boat came to a stop before them, a small door in its side swinging open automatically.
"All aboard, everybody," ordered Mr. Wonka, gesturing to the vessel.
"Uh," Mr. Salt jerked forwards eagerly, holding out his arms to block the path. "Ladies first and that means Veruca," he demanded.
Em watched the brat strut onto the boat – ignoring Mr. Wonka's proffered hand – and take the seat at the very front, her father following closely behind. She turned to her brother covertly.
"If she's a lady, I'm a Vermicious Knid," she quipped, her eyebrow raised sarcastically as Charlie laughed. She glanced up and was shocked to see the chocolatier looking in their direction, his head shaking ever so slightly, a small smile playing upon his lips. There's no way he heard, she assured herself, smiling at him politely.
"You're sure this thing'll float, Wonka?" asked Mr. Salt warily as Mrs. Beauregarde and her daughter climbed aboard daintily, the woman's hand lingering in Mr. Wonka's slightly longer than necessary.
"Rest assured, Sir," nodded Mr. Wonka confidently, beckoning the remaining passengers forward as Violet and her mother sat on a bench made for three.
"She's tres joli, but is she sea worthy?" questioned Mrs. Teevee as she clambered aboard hesitantly.
"Nothing to worry about, my dear lady," assured Mr. Wonka, "I take good care of my guests."
"Some guests more than others," Em heard Mrs. Beauregarde mutter under her breath and her insides instantly turned to ice. She saw the woman throw a dirty look over in her direction and she looked away, ashamed. Mr. Wonka glanced at Em, noting her distress, his attention turning to Mrs. Beauregarde. Her demeanor changed instantly under the man's gaze. "He took great care of that August kid, didn't he?" she elaborated, pretending to whisper to Violet, yet loud enough for the whole boat to hear.
"Ignore her," advised Charlie as the headed towards the boat.
Em took a deep breath and followed her brother's advice, avoiding Mr. Wonka's offered hand – much to his puzzlement – as they alighted the boat. She eyed an empty seat next to Mrs. Beauregarde warily, relieved when she spotted an empty bench at the boat's rear.
She and her brother took their seats promptly, Charlie choosing the spot nearest the edge in order to get a good view of the river. The Oompa Loompas chattered excitedly behind them, Em unable to understand a word.
"Everybody aboard?" called Mr. Wonka, closing the small door behind him. "Excellent!" Em watched with sadness as he took the empty seat next to Mrs. Beauregarde. She glanced to the empty spot next to her and shook her head. The space was tiny, of course he wouldn't have sat there.
Without another word, the boat cast off and bobbed gently away from the bank, the Oompa Loompas' short legs pedaling furiously.
"Hey, Daddy?" Em heard Veruca from the front of the boat. "I want a boat like this. A beautiful paddleboat, that's what I want," she demanded.
"What she needs is a good kick in the pants," growled Em as Charlie glared at her. They bobbed past a group of candy apple trees, Em longing for something sweet to calm her nervous stomach.
"I think I'm gonna be seasick," moaned Mrs. Teevee, mirroring Em's thoughts.
At the woman's groan, Mr. Wonka turned with interest. He picked a small yellow ball off the railing to his right and handed it to her, a pleasant smile on his face.
"Here, try one of these."
"What are they?" Mrs. Teevee took it, despite her suspicions.
"Rainbow Drops," answered Mr. Wonka, handing a blue one to Mike before turning back to Mrs. Beauregarde and offering her a bright pink one. "Suck 'em and you can spit in seven different colours."
Mrs. Beauregarde wrinkled her nose but took it anyway.
"Spitting's a dirty habit," she chastised as Mr. Salt chipped off a handful for his daughter.
"I know a worse one," mused Mr. Wonka, absently.
Em glanced at the railing nearest them, noting with dismay that there were no Rainbow Drops to be seen.
"It's okay Em, I feel fine," grinned Charlie, watching her search. She smiled back and relaxed into her seat, closing her eyes as the smell of melted chocolate overwhelmed her.
Just as she had begun to loosen up, she felt someone squeeze into the seat next to her, causing her eyes to shoot open in alarm as she stifled a small yelp.
"Rainbow Drop?" asked the innocent voice of Mr. Wonka, an impish grin lighting up his face as he held out a handful of candies.
"Yes please," nodded Charlie eagerly, taking a deep red one and popping it in his mouth.
Em smiled shyly and took a purple one, still shocked at the man's close proximity.
"The purple ones are my favorite too," noted Mr. Wonka with a smile. He relaxed back into his seat, his hand missing Em's thigh by a millimeter and causing her stomach to start doing backflips.
She stared ahead, too nervous to make conversation and vaguely aware that Mrs. Beauregarde was shooting them covert glances. Luckily Charlie had no such worries.
"You'll have to forgive us, Mr. Wonka," he apologized. "We've never been on a boat before, I don't think Em's feeling too well." She felt Mr. Wonka's eyes on her.
"Never been on a boat before?" he asked with dubiousness. "My dear Buckets I do apologise!" Em's heart glowed at the sincerity behind his words. "Please, you must try this."
Em let her eyes travel in his direction and she watched with intrigue as he snapped off the armrest to his seat, creating a makeshift ladle. He reached over the side of the boat and dunked it into the river before passing it carefully to Em, who took it gingerly.
"Try a sip," he urged, his eyed wide and expectant.
Em took a deep breath and took a small swig, the liquid warm against her lips; it was the most delicious thing she'd ever tasted. She passed it diligently to Charlie who took a much larger gulp, his eyes lighting up as the chocolate warmed him from inside.
"Delicious!" he beamed.
"It really is," she agreed, taking one last sip before passing the makeshift ladle back to its owner. Mr. Wonka smiled at them both.
"And it should make you feel a lot better," he encouraged, balancing the ladle precariously on the railing and stretching his legs out casually.
Em had to admit she did feel better, all her worries had vanished and she was left instead with a warm glow radiating from her very soul. She wondered, however, whether it was the chocolate doing its job, or if the warm glow was down to the chocolatier squished in next to her. She smiled sheepishly as she felt Mr. Wonka's eyes on her once again, turning to her brother to distract herself.
Mrs. Beauregarde's voice floated over to them from the front of the boat.
"So, what business are you in, Mr. Salt?" she asked sweetly.
"Nuts," he replied bluntly before softening slightly under her charm. "It's been in the family for –"
"Daddy! Where are we going?!" Veruca's yelp drew her father's attention away from the woman.
Em looked up from her brother, startled by a dark tunnel looming towards them.
"I don't know, but I don't like the look of it." Mr. Salt mirrored his daughter's panic, craning his neck in search of Mr. Wonka. "We want off!" he demanded.
"Round the world and home again, that's the sailor's way!" cried Mr. Wonka, suddenly sitting bolt upright and startling Em. She grabbed Charlie's hand as they slowly entered the darkness, her brother squeezing it reassuringly.
"I don't like this ride, Daddy!" Em heard Veruca's voice echo in the darkness as the group began to panic.
"Faster!" Mr. Wonka barked, startling Em further. The warmth and casualness had disappeared from his voice, he sounded almost possessed. The Oompa Loompas behind them let out a chorus of demented giggles.
She let out a yelp as the boat lurched forward, picking up speed.
"Wonka do me a favour and tell those people to stop paddling back there!" cried Mr. Salt.
"Mummy it's horrible!" she heard Violet wail, Charlie gripping her hand tighter still. Images began to flash across the walls of the tunnel. Em saw her mother weeping as their beloved house burned down, black smoke staining the cloudy sky.
"Faster!" she heard Wonka bark again.
The image changed as the boat moved faster still, revealing their father asleep on the side of a dirty road, his helpless frame covered in newspapers for warmth.
"We're going too fast!"
"We're gonna sink, I know it!"
Anguished cries rang out throughout the tunnel, merging together in some kind of horrifying chorus.
"Faster!" bellowed Wonka as Em's body filled with dread, hurtling deeper into oblivion.
An image of four dilapidated gravestones, abandoned and uncared for, flashed in front of her eyes, the names of their beloved grandparents scribbled messily into the grimy stone.
"Faster!"
Charlie being taken away in the back of a van, his tearful face pressed up against the bars helplessly.
"This isn't funny, Mr. Wonka!" Mrs. Beauregarde shrieked.
Their father, bruised and bloody, staggering down the street.
"You can't possibly see where you're going, Wonka!" howled Mr. Salt
"You're right, I can't," he answered calmly.
"Em!" Charlie released his hand from her grip and pointed as an image of Slugworth flashed across the wall, his features stretched and distorted, a cruel grin sprawled across his face.
They careered around a corner and Em slammed into Mr. Wonka's side, disturbing images still plaguing them wherever they looked.
"Mr. Wonka, what is happening?!" she begged, one of Charlie's hands finding hers once again as the darkness consumed them. He squeezed it, far tighter this time.
"There's no earthly way of knowing –" Mr. Wonka ignored her question, his voice resonating around the tunnel.
"This is terrific!" whooped Mike.
"– which direction we are going." Mr. Wonka continued, ignoring the remarks from his guests.
Mrs. Teevee let out a moan.
"There's no knowing where we're rowing –" Em turned to glance at the man, her eyes squinting in the darkness. His face was set in a stern expression, his usually friendly features replaced by ones of stone. " – or which way the river's flowing."
"This has gone too far, Wonka!" barked Mr. Salt.
"Is it raining? Is it snowing? Is a hurricane a-blowing?" he continued, trance-like. "Not a speck of light is showing, so the danger must be growing."
Em gasped as an image of Mrs. Beauregarde flashed across the tunnel, her arms wrapped tightly around Mr. Wonka as they shared a romantic embrace. She closed her eyes, shame flooding through her.
"Are the fires of hell a-glowing? Is the grisly reaper mowing?"
Charlie squeezed her hand once more and she gripped it with all her might.
"Yes! The danger must be growing, for the rowers keep on rowing."
She could hear the Oompa Loompas howling behind them.
"And they're certainly not showing any signs that they are slowing!" Em heard the man suck in a breath and she opened her eyes, praying it was over. He let out a terrified scream, his eyes wide in alarm. She heard the others begin to scream, Veruca letting out a wail.
"Oh, make him stop, Daddy!"
"Wonka, for heaven's sake!" he snarled. "This has gone far enough!"
"Quite right, sir!" squawked Mr. Wonka, his trance broken as he glanced around. "Stop the boat!" Charlie released her hand as the boat lurched to an immediate stop. Mr. Wonka held out his arm calmly, holding Em and Charlie firmly in place as the rest of the passengers were sent flying forwards and out of their seats. "We're there!" he added simply, as the darkness lifted and a large concrete room was revealed.
"Where?" groaned Mike, rubbing the back of his neck as his mother gathered up her purse and glared at Mr. Wonka.
"A small step for mankind, but a giant step for us," he stated as the small door swung open, leading onto a concrete walkway. "All ashore."
"Let me off this damn thing!" demanded Mrs. Beauregarde, scrambling out of her seat as she dragged Violet along with her.
"Why don't they show stuff like that on TV?" asked Mike, his eyes wide.
"I don't know," his mother shuddered, herding him off. Mr. Wonka followed them, a pleasant smile adorned his face, as if the past few moments of terror had never happened.
"Daddy, I do not want a boat like this," whimpered Veruca as she clutched her father's hand, desperate to leave.
"Charlie?" muttered Em before they stood up. "What did you see in the tunnel? Apart from Slugworth?" Memories of Mrs. Beauregarde and Mr. Wonka swam forwards in her mind. Had the whole boat seen what she'd seen?
"Horrible stuff," frowned Charlie. "Mum and dad fighting; Mr. Wonka's factory being knocked down. Nothing too scary though, don't worry."
"No, I'm not worried," she shook her head, distracted.
"I don't scare as easily as you, anyway," teased Charlie.
"What?" she gasped, smirking at her brother's sass. "You're the one who grabbed my hand that second time, thank you very much!"
Charlie's smile faded slightly as he looked at her in confusion.
"Huh? I didn't hold your hand after that first time; you let go and I figured you were okay."
"All ashore, my dear Buckets," called Mr. Wonka a second time, drawing them out of their reverie.
"Then who…?" Em shook her head, confused, as Charlie went ahead. She quickly searched her surroundings for anything she may have dropped in the chaos.
She noticed the makeshift ladle Mr. Wonka had used to scoop up chocolate from the river was still balanced precariously on the railings. She frowned as she reached for it, sure it must be stuck down. She picked it up with ease and frowned even further.
"Something the matter, my dear?" She turned sharply at Mr. Wonka's voice by her shoulder. How did the man move so quietly?
"I just – I figured this should have fallen off." She handed him the ladle warily.
"Hmm," he nodded, "yes, it's almost as if we weren't really moving at all, isn't it!" He smiled knowingly and walked away, leaving Em to follow in confusion. She hurried over to Charlie, relieved to be back on solid ground, her knees shaking ever so slightly.
They'd docked in a long corridor, various doors leading off in different directions. As the boat sailed calmly away, the siblings studied the signs as they went past, the group following Mr. Wonka cautiously.
"Dairy Cream," Em read aloud.
"Whipped Cream," recited Charlie.
"Coffee Cream."
"Vanilla Cream."
"Hair Cream?" they chorused together.
"Meine Herrschaften, schenken Sie mir ihre aufmerksamkeit," declared Mr. Wonka as he came to a stop at one of the doors. Now was Em's turn to translate.
"My friends, please give me your attention," she whispered into Charlie's ear, having studied German many years ago at school. Charlie looked up at her appreciatively.
"That's not French," spat Mrs. Teevee, displeased.
"Sie kommen jetzt in den interessantesten und gleichzeitig geheimsten raum meiner fabrik," Mr. Wonka continued, much to everyone else's annoyance.
"'You have now come to the most interesting and, at the same time, the most secret room of my factory'," Em shrugged, struggling slightly. "Or something like that," she winked.
"I can't take much more of this," scoffed Mr. Salt, shaking his head.
"Meine Damen und Herren, der Inventing Room." Mr. Wonka smiled at them, waiting for a response.
"'Ladies and Gentlemen, The –'"
"The Inventing Room?" Em was interrupted by Violet, who's eyes were now alight with curiosity.
"Now remember," instructed Mr. Wonka animatedly, "no messing about, no touching, no tasting, no telling."
"No telling what?" ordered Veruca suspiciously.
"You see, all of my most secret inventions are cooking and simmering in here," answered Mr. Wonka. "Old Slugworth would give his false teeth to get inside for just five minutes, so don't touch a thing!" He studied them all individually before opening the door and stepping inside, holding it open for the rest to enter.
Veruca shoved her way into the room first, followed closely by Violet, the pair disappearing from view. Em and Charlie let the others go ahead before entering themselves, Em smiling in thanks as she moved past Mr. Wonka. She heard the door close behind her and bid the nightmarish boat ride goodbye, hoping that was the last of the nasty surprises…