"Daddy, look over there! What is it? It's a little person. Over there, by the waterfall."
A little person, across the way, by the waterfall? Really? As if Mr. Wonka were a magnet, we all hurried to where he was so he could explain what was up, and found ourselves standing on a flat place at the edge of the river. I wondered if that was a good idea. As close as we were, if someone started pushing, someone else might fall in.
Once we'd gathered 'round, we saw that there were more than one of these people. There are lots of them, with more arriving every minute. The one Veruca had pointed to was using a miniature jack-hammer, and she wasn't kidding when she said they were little. It was hard to tell from across the river, but I didn't think they were much taller than a grown-up's knee.
Mr. Wonka was in front, watching the little people, standing with his cane before him. He had his hands resting on its top, his shoulders were relaxed, and his gaze, watching them, looked to me to be one of satisfaction, in the way a person is satisfied with the workings of a well-oiled machine. It was a little weird to see. He looked so much happier than he did when he looked at us.
The adults had been taking turns pointing out the obvious—as adults often do—that there were more than one of these people, and Mr. Teavee sounded concerned that there were more and more of them arriving. I guess he thought they were an invading army, and that he might need to defend himself. Maybe with a gun. Maybe more Teavees than Mike were into guns.
Mr. Wonka let us ask our questions.
"Where do they come from?" asked Mrs. Gloop.
Yes, where do they come from? That's a good question. They're not from around here. They were all doing tasks now. Collecting what looked like sour balls; hacking away at pea pods; Pea pods? I'd have to ask Mr. Wonka about those, but these must be the people working for the factory. I've never seen anyone like them.
"Who are they?" I asked.
Mr. Wonka wasn't answering. Mike spoke next, and, I hope, asked a question a person might ask because they were in a room where nearly everything they see in it is made of candy.
"Are they real people?"
That got to Mr. Wonka.
"Of course they're real people," he said, sounding insulted, "they're Oompa-Loompas."
"Oompa-Loompas?"
That was Mr. Salt.
"Imported. Direct from Loompaland."
Mr. Teavee decided to argue with Mr. Wonka about this. Why would he do that? Doesn't Mr. Wonka know better than Mr. Teavee where Mr. Wonka got his workers from? But it was probably just as well Mr. Teavee had done that, because then we got the whole story. It was a long story, and Mr. Wonka enjoyed telling it. He really got into it, with lots of details. I thought I was there. I knew Mr. Wonka must be adventurous, and this story proved it.
Loompaland, he told us, is a terrible place, filled with fierce creatures, and he listed off a bunch of names of some of them that I've never heard of—and after hearing about them, I don't want to meet—and because of them, he said, the Oompa-Loompas lived in tree houses to stay alive.
It would be fun to live in a tree house. I sort of live in a tree house, and hunger is a fierce beast. I can identify with these people. Mr. Wonka said they ate mashed-up green caterpillars with red beetles, which sounded worse than eating mashed-up green cabbages with the occasional potato, but we were still on the same track.
Their favorite food was the cacao bean, and that's the bean that makes chocolate, so, more in common, that's what I like best, too. Mr. Wonka had the idea that if they wanted to leave Loompaland, and get away from the fierce creatures and having to eat mashed-up green caterpillars, he'd be happy to have them come and work for him, and live in his factory, instead.
I could have gone green, ha, ha, hearing that, and that's where what I had in common with the Oompa-Loompas ended. Personally, I'd love to give up eating mashed-up green cabbages and come and live in Mr. Wonka's factory, but I wasn't an Oompa-Loompa and Mr. Wonka didn't like people like us working for him. Oh, well. I heard Mr. Wonka say he paid the Oompa-Loompas with cacao beans, but I would have worked for room and board only. Why look a gift horse in the mouth? Mr. Wonka finished with a compliment and a warning.
"They are such wonderful workers," he said. "I feel I must warn you, though, they are rather mischievous; always making jokes."
He finished with a little giggle, as if the jokes they made might go either way, with some of them being not so funny, but it was hard to tell. Just then, Mrs. Gloop caught sight of Augustus, who, it turned out, wasn't with us. I hadn't noticed, but we were all about to.
Are these my characters? They are not. Is this purely for entertainment? It is.
Is this a sad day for the fans of Mr. Dahl? It is, so in remembrance of that fine man and his lovely characters, I shall post today.
Did this chapter get too long for comfort? It did, so I shall post the rest of it on Wednesday.
Is this chapter short, short, like the Oompa-Loompas? It is, ar, ar.
Thanks for reading.
Have my reviewers made my day? You betcha! Fav and Followers? You also, and I thank you, one and all.
As it ever is in my stories, direct quotes from the 2005 movie are in italics.