A/N: Hello! Just a few responses to my wonderful reviewers:
Maleficent Angel: Hmm, suspense is a very good thing. Thanks for the review!
The Lady of Light: Ah, you see, I'm not so mean as to keep my readers in the dark forever! Many thanks.
Drazzles: This chapter is a bit lighter, but next chapter it might get a bit sad. Many thanks for your review, and of course I noticed you!
Quill in Hand: Sorry! I'm a very naughty person.
Mirriam Q Webster: You'll find out what exactly is wrong with Mr Wonka in this chapter – sort of! Thanks for your lovely review.
PucktoFaerie: You'll have to read on and find out...
Well, enjoy!
Chapter Six
Now, you will recall that we last saw Mr Wonka leaving the factory to go to that most dreadful place – the hospital. Now, you and I know that, for the most part, hospitals are in fact very good places, were life is restored far more often than taken away. But Mr Wonka, who was not exactly experienced in such matters, saw them as scary, uncomfortable places that you went into and never came out of. No, he did not like hospitals at all...
"What's your name?" A childish voice broke through his reverie. He blinked, cocking his head to one side as he looked down into the face of a young girl. He smiled slightly.
"Willy." He told her, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and leaning down to look her straight in the eye. The girl pouted slightly. You will recall that Mr Wonka had been placed in the children's ward.
"It's silly to shorten your name like that. So I'll call you William." Mr Wonka wasn't entirely sure whether to be flattered or offended by this announcement. He failed to tell the girl that his name wasn't even William anyway. After all, what's a syllable between friends?
"What's your name?" He asked, his eyes travelling over the plaster cast on her arm and the nasty bruise on her forehead. The girl smiled and curtseyed prettily.
"Elaina." She told him. His eyes twinkled teasingly.
"Then I'll call you Ellie." He said. Ellie pouted once more, but made no protest. "How old are you?" He asked next, unconsciously following the unwritten rules of engagement between two children.
"Seven. You?" The girl answered, and Mr Wonka bit his lip. Hesitantly, he leaned forward, his eyes serious.
"Look... it's gotta be a secret, okay?" The girl smiled eagerly. She loved secrets. They made her feel very special.
"Okay." She replied, and Mr Wonka leaned over and whispered in her ear. He pulled back, and she nodded seriously. Mr Wonka leaned forward, frowning at her cast.
"What happened?" He asked in concern, and the girl shrugged.
"Car crash. I had to stay in overnight because I had concussion. My foster parents are coming to pick me up tonight. You?"
Mr Wonka paused for a moment, his hand resting lightly on his chin. The nurse had yet to manage to part him from his purple gloves. So how to put it? He scarcely understood it himself...
He smiled gently at the girl.
"A nasty snozzwanger laid an egg in my brain." He shrugged. "The doctors have got to take it out." The girl giggled at his words.
"What's a snozzwanger?" She asked, her eyes bright. She loved to listen to stories.
Mr Wonka cocked his head to one side, before patting the mattress by his side.
"Sit up here and I'll tell you. Snozzwangers, you see, live in a terrible place called Loompaland..."
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When Charlie re-entered the Bucket house it was eerily silent. He looked around at the kind faces of his parents and grandparents. The letter Mr Wonka had sent him hung limply in his hand.
"Mr Wonka..." It was all he needed to say. His mother stepped over to him, and gently took him in her arms. She bent down to his level, smiling sadly.
"Come on, Charlie." She told him, squeezing his arms. "It's time we all went to visit Mr Wonka."
Charlie stared into his mother's comforting eyes, and nodded slowly. He understood, at least in part. But he needed an adult to tell him exactly what was going on.
"Where – where is he?" He asked, biting his lip. He feared the answer. His mother smiled once more, but it was a damp, glistening-eyed smile.
"He's in hospital, Charlie." She said, saying the words as softly and as gently as she could. Her son jerked away slightly, but she held him tight. "It's alright." She told him, despite all she knew about the foolishness of giving a child false hope. But the hope... the hope was there.
"Come on then." Grandpa George's gruff voice interrupted the moment of silence. "Better not keep Wonka waiting." The old man was up and looked desperate to get going. Charlie looked up at his grandfather and smiled.
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By the time Mr Wonka finished his story there was a large group of youngsters congregated round him. The young ones were staring at him with awe in their eyes, and a few teens had even edged over to listen. When the story finished, they all looked quite disappointed; Mr Wonka's crazy tale had, but for a moment, alleviated the pain and tension of the hospital ward.
"Another one, William, please!" Little Elaina whined, her eyes wide and pleading. Mr Wonka grinned, and was about to start upon the tale of the time he'd met a Leviathan, but he was cut off by the entry of a young, kindly looking nurse.
"Time for pre-op, Mr Wonka." She smiled down at the children. "Scoot, you lot!" Most of the children left, grumbling slightly, but two remained: little Elaina and one older girl, who looked at Mr Wonka with pity in her eyes.
"Seeya then, William!" Elaina chirruped, and Mr Wonka nodded at her, suddenly feeling very cold and lost for words. She skipped away, and the older girl stepped forward, looking awkward. I will tell you now that this girl lost her father two years before, and that his situation had been very similar to Mr Wonka's.
"Good luck." She said softly, knowing what the 'snozzwanger egg' meant. She turned and left, leaving a quite bemused Mr Wonka behind.
"Come on then." The nurse said, indicating the door. She would let the patient walk to pre-op, knowing well that a short walk did wonders to calm the nerves of an anxious patient. As they walked, she chatted amiably.
"You know, I'm very grateful to you for indulging the kids like that. They're mostly quite depressed, just having someone tell them a story does wonder for their morale." Mr Wonka eyed her suspiciously. There had been a lot of long words there.
"It was nothing." He mumbled, deciding it had been a compliment. "Just a story..."
They continued the walk in silence, and when the time came for the anaesthetic to be administered, Mr Wonka drifted away without a fuss. Asleep, he seemed no more an adult that little Elaina herself.
888
Charlie and his family arrived at the hospital two hours later. Once there, they had to wait for a further two before a doctor would even come to talk to them. The doctor had been of the tall, officious sort, and Charlie had drawn no comfort from his long, frightening words at all.
But at last, almost five hours after Mr Wonka had finished telling his story to the children up in the ward, a nurse approached them with the words:
"You can come and see your friend now." She spoke especially to Charlie, and he smiled up at her. "But he's still... asleep."
As they walked, she turned back to Charlie and said gently:
"You mustn't be alarmed if he doesn't look like he normally would. The tubes and things are just there to help."
Charlie nodded, swallowing his fear because he did not want to look like a coward in front of this pretty nurse. But nonetheless, he hesitated before stepping through the door of the post-op ward.
Mr Wonka was lying, asleep, on a bed in the corner of the room, and at first Charlie did not recognise him. He was asleep, and pale even by his standards. There was a shaved section of hair on the left side of his head, and a bandage bound against it. Like the nurse had warned, there were countless tubes running in and out of his wrists.
But then Charlie looked down at Mr Wonka's hands, and grinned. The gloves were still there. It was definitely his Mr Wonka.
"Mr Wonka?" He whispered, standing on tip-toe to see over the side of the bed. The man on the bed gave no response, and Charlie stepped back, deflated. He had thought that as soon as he was there Mr Wonka would wake up and everything would get back to normal. But, sadly, the world does not operate on the logic of a child. If it did, then there would be no finer place in existence.
"He'll wake up eventually, Charlie." Mr Bucket said, squeezing the boy's shoulder. Charlie shrugged bravely. He turned to go, but then he sensed the gaze of a sharp pair of eyes on his back. He turned around, to see Mr Wonka smiling softly down at him.
"Heya, kiddo." He said.
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A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please tell me what you think. I know the details of the hospital might be a bit out, as I have fortunately never seen inside many hospitals, and I hope I haven't offended anyone.