Hello all and welcome to the new chapter. Hopefully you will enjoy, please try to review everyone, I relly enjoy any feedback- good or bad.
Next chapter I promise more cuddly stuff, but this story was only planned to be 7 chapters long.
Charlie's parents returned at midday, having got confirmation from Doctor Williams of Charlie's conditions. In his mother's hand was clutched a few x-rays and documents, she looked pale and weak.
"Mum, Why don't we let the Oompa Loompas make dinner tonight, you look tired." She nodded slightly and went into the house.
"Come on Mr. Wonka, we'd better get to work."
"Don't you want to show them your new candy?"
Charlie nodded eagerly and held up the confection to the light and said,
"Wait, do you want to see my new candy? I invented it last night!" He ran to them, trying hard to forget the news he had heard last night.
It caught the light and spun the colours; It was the clearest most beautiful form they had seen him make yet. In his hand was a largish sugar crystal snowflake. It had a complex pattern, was as white as the purest snow but seemed to be coloured some how. He gave it to his mother, who took it delicately. It was slightly heavy for something that size, it was slightly smaller than her palm.
"Go on, taste it!"
She took a bite. Far from being sharp and angular it was hard and crumbly, but it held its shape in her mouth. She felt, for the first time since she had picked up the phone, happy. It was a sweet that made you feel happy. The flavours whirled in her head, simple yet subtly creamy, with an almost berry flavour, she couldn't tell which. The center was almost liquid, cool and it flowed over her tongue. She handed the rest to her husband, who also took a bite. He smiled- the age that had crept onto his face seemed to lessen slightly, he held his head higher and clapped Charlie on the back.
The last chocolate he would ever invent was also the best.
The Elevator sped towards the inventing room, Charlie silent but Wonka chatty. He explained the way they made candy floss, which Charlie had not known before- Mr. Wonka had asked them not to ask about the pink sheep. He was mid rant when he noticed Charlie had sunk to the floor.
"Charlie? Charlie?"
He knelt down as Charlie took deep breaths, clutching his stomach. He looked pale and tired, thin and sick. He clenched his jaw and stood, holding the wall for support. Wonka moved in quickly, knowing the wall of the Elevator not to be the best form of support. He held Charlie's arm and said,
"Are you ok?"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
Charlie was working on making more of the snowflakes, each had a different pattern but had the same geometric rule, so that they differed but were the same. He had ten spread out on front of him. Above him, on one of the many levels in the inventing room Wonka was working, silently. Eventually he could bear it no longer and ran down the stairs. His top hat almost flew off, but he held a steady hand over it.
"Charlie, you look so tired…Are you sure you want to continue working?"
"Yes. Oh and tomorrow I have to go to the Doctor's again. More blood tests." Charlie shuddered slightly, he hated needles. Wonka gently took his arm and looked. Instead of the original patch, which Wonka had seen Charlie remove, there were two.
"Something's wrong Charlie. Tell me now."
"Nothing's wrong."
"Charlie…"
Charlie looked down. It was time to break the news to Mr. Wonka, who he knew would take it worse than himself. He had moved into a state of calm disbelief, he was somehow not particularly sad. He just felt an ache, that was not the sickness but a feeling of fear.
"Mr. Wonka…" Charlie sat Wonka down, wondering how to tell him. Wonka sat abruptly and looked at Charlie, his blue eyes darting around Charlie's face in concern.
"There's no easy way to tell you this. I'm…." to say it felt like defeat, like it was actually going to happen but Charlie braced him self, wanting to throw up.
"Going to die. I've got terminal cancer and I don't know when or how long I've got and I don't want to and I don't see how I could go wrong, but I have gone wrong, like I'm broken and I don't know what I did wrong and…"
It came out on a rush; he silenced himself as suddenly as it had started. Wonka let out a nervous laugh,
"Don't joke like that Charlie, It's not funny. Not funny at all."
He got up suddenly, and saw Charlie motionless, his dark hair covering his eyes as he looked at the floor. For the first time in Charlie's memory Wonka became truly angry, and shouted, furiously looking around.
"That's not funny, you are my heir, the heir to my beautiful factory- Charleie don't be stupid. I won't allow it. You. Can't. DIE"
Wonka took up a Snowflake and looked at it, almost wildly. He flung it at the floor where it shattered. Charlie winced as it hit the floor, almost crying.
Wonka picked up another Snowflake and walked out of the door, slamming it behind him. He was shocked and outraged. The cheek of the Doctors, to tell Charlie that he had cancer. He sent the Elevator straight to his room and ran inside, slamming the door shut.
Charlie returned, pale and shivering, from the Doctor's. He had another cotton pad taped to his arm, on his wrist. He looked radically different- his head was shaved and he was in pain again. He walked feebly to the door of the house, and changed into the clothes the Oompa Loompas had made for him.
Slightly different to Wonka's the suit had a full length jacket of dove-grey, that reached the floor in long elegant swathes. ON it was patterned, in black silk, strange swirls and some Loompa symbols that all seemed to become denser at the base of the coat and the sleeve cuffs, with almost no embroidery on the shoulders. With it came two black gloves and a deep red vest, with a patterned shirt. He didn't change his pants- by the time he was pulling off his shirt he was pale and tired. He didn't bother trying to hide his head, though he was ashamed of it, inside the Factory.
He didn't eat much for dinner, but he was slightly worried- he hadn't seen Mr.Wonka…Willy…for almost a day. He had disappeared into his room and Charlie didn't quite dare to go to him. He gave his mother a fond goodnight- his father had stayed outside, on business.
Charlie couldn't bear the silence that had settled over the house, the silence that seemed to be pressing down on him. He lay on his bed, fully clothed listening to the silence that screamed at him. He finally rose and, seeing that his mother was still in the room below, swung himself outside the hole in the roof, jumping easily down. He walked across the dark chocolate room and found the Elevator.
As usual Mr. Wonka had left it exactly where he would need it. He stepped inside, the glass somehow illuminated at his touch. He had only ever seen it do this under Mr. Wonka's hand, he pulled his hand away as though it had been burnt. He laid his hand on the glass again, the glass lit up so that it was coolly illuminated, like a halo around his hand.
He eventually pressed the Button labeled "Up and Out" and felt the familiar acceleration. He was glad of the light, and looked up. Since Wonka had so eagerly made a hole in the roof Charlie had not patched it up but made an exit of it. The circular hole grew larger, it had tough blue casing on the edges that flashed just as he passed the barrier. He landed it, not as gracefully as Mr. Wonka, on the roof of the factory. It pressed down on the snow and Charlie stumbled out, clutching the frame of the door for support. He walked into the small layer of snow; it was falling only slightly in the dark. He pushed his way through the snow until he got to the edge of the roof and sat, breathing deeply. He clutched the edge as a slight vertigo set in; he looked out at the city spread before him, quiet and beautiful.
He heard a door open behind him, quietly. He heard it shut again, quietly- it wasn't slammed or left to close, it had been eased back into its position. He turned to see Willy Wonka walk out of a doorway he hadn't even noticed, out of a wall he had simply walked past.
He sighed and looked down, even more conscious of the feeling that had failed Wonka. The snow flurried around him. As he shivered slightly he heard faint footsteps.
Thankyou for reading, please review everyone.
C. Clementine