Wilbur Wonka's Big Day

It was in winter, frost was creeping over the city and snow was falling slowly from the sky and made snow-drifts in the streets. Dr. Wonka said goodbye to his last patient and locked the surgery door. He ran up the stairs to his flat over the surgery, changed, collected a few things and put them in a bag, put on his coat, grabbed the bag and ran out of the house. He forgot entirely that he should have bought some petrol but he learned that the moment his car refused to start. He swore, jumped out of the car, locked it and ran to the bus stop. He stood there for several minutes, nervously looking at his watch from time to time. When the bus came in sight, he realized he had forgotten the bag in the car. He went numb for a second; grunted and let the bus go, returned for the bag and went to find a taxi.

He had a feeling everything was plotted against him: when he caught one five minutes later, he found out that the driver is a twenty years old greenhorn who seemed to got into the car by chance and has never driven before. For some time he drove as a madman so the car danced on the frosty road, for some time, to make it up, he slowed to a crawl. Doctor was glad when the car stopped.

When the taxi driver said the price, Dr. Wonka goggled at him incredulously. "So much? We were going just a short while!"
The driver showed his crooked yellowish teeth in a grin. He spoke in a creaky voice and his breath stank horribly.

"Look, boss," he said impatiently, "petrol prices went up since the new year, y'know... and we were in the jam."

Doctor Wonka grunted, put the money into the waiting hand and remarked, "You should visit your dentist as soon as possible because you have an inclination to paradenthosis."

The guy just waved his hand. "It's OK, boss." Wonka managed to hear him muttering, "Man, what can you know about it?" Dr. Wonka just shook his head at the ignorance of some people and made towards a building named BIRMINGHAM MATERNITY HOSPITAL.

He asked at the lodge where to go and took a lift to the third floor. He got to a long corridor, lined by many doors on both sides. He went to the right and searched for No. 323. He found it at last, knocked and poked his head inside. "Good afternoon," he greeted two expectant mothers who smiled at him. He was viewing the room and for a while he thought he is mistaken. He checked the door number – 323, it was correct. One of the women spoke to him, "Are you looking for someone?"

"Yes, my wife – I am Wonka, Dr. Wonka," he said.

"We've just taken Mrs Wonka to the delivery room," a nurse informed him. She appeared behind him so unexpectedly that he jumped a bit.

"Delivery room? I just... brought her a few things -" stuttered Wonka and handed her the bag. "But you said it will be a couple of days more..."

"Well, it happens sometimes," smiled the nurse and took the bag from him. "I will take these and give them to her, don't worry. Come, you will wait on the corridor." She showed him a seat and ran away.

Dr. Wonka, however, couldn't sit still. He had to know what happened. He stopped the first doctor who passed by, but he wasn't able to tell him anything. Wonka wandered the corridors until he came in front of the delivery room. He tried to look inside but this was impossible for the door was of milk glass. A nurse rushed out at one moment and a doctor was calling after her: "Tell him to hurry!"

Wonka became frightened. What if there are some complications? Surely there are, it was a high-risk pregnancy. He stopped the nurse on her way back and insisted on seeing his wife.

"You are the husband?" He nodded and made an attempt to get to the delivery room. "You can't go there," she protested and stood in the door.

"I want to be with her," insisted Wonka.

"That's not possible," said the nurse, "she wished not to let anybody here."

Wonka stood thunderstruck. "But we agreed on..."

"Just as I said. Forgive me, but I have to go," said the nurse and was ready to go.

"Tell me at least what's happening."

"Everything is in order, don't worry," she said, looking aside and disappeared. Dr. Wonka had a hunch for some reason she didn't tell the truth. He sat down disconsolately and observed his entwined fingers. Today his first child is to be born. Not how he imagined this. Moreover, he still doesn't know if it is a boy or a girl. How is his wife? What's going on? He stood up and with hands in his pockets he walked to and fro.

"It is your first, isn't it?" A man sitting aside smiled at him. Wonka scanned him. He appeared to be quite odd, maybe he was an artist. He was wearing a terrible woolly jacket that matched neither his tie nor trousers. His hair looked wild – it was black, wavy and a kind of windblown.

Wonka nodded silently. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anybody, the less with somebody of that kind.

"For the first time it's always the worst," laughed the black-eyed man. "My wife had enough after those twelve hours," he said merrily and Wonka gulped. He remembered this thing though; he read it or heard about it long time ago, probably at university, but he would never admit this might happen to his wife too. He turned his back on the man and went on along the corridor, just to show his complete unwillingness to talk to him.

Several hours passed. Dr. Wonka had the feeling he was delivering the child himself. At last the door opened and exhausted doctors and some nurses came out. They overlooked the situation with one sight and headed towards the more destructed man.

"You are Mr Slugworth?" said the obstetrician to Wonka.

"No, that's me," said the other man and ran to them. Doctor took him aside and told him something quietly. Wonka was able to hear only a few fragments: "... there was a certain... an expert... hopefully he'll be all right." He saw the black-eyed man turn pale and his jaw dropped. He could take nothing more, because the other doctor turned to him. "You must be Mr Wonka?"

"Y-yes," he stammered out.

"Congratulations, you have a beautiful healthy son," said the doctor and shook his hand. Wonka thought he misunderstood.

"What about the complications?"

"There were no complications," the doctor waved his hand. "Your wife had no troubles. She managed it really well. She was only sorry you weren't there with her."

Wonka ceased to wonder at anything. "But - the nurse told me..." he pointed at a nurse who was quickly passing by, turning her eyes to the ground. The doctor watched her leaving with a sharp look.

"She must have mistaken you with somebody else", he said through gritted teeth, "I'll have to talk to her a bit. Anyway – don't you want to see your wife?" Wonka wasn't able to say a word and followed the doctor to his wife's room.

It was one a.m., the first of February, 1963.

Doctor Wonka entered a white room where on a smug bed his wife lay and smiled, though she looked a bit tired.

"Hello, darling, sorry for being late," he greeted her and came nearer.

"You took your time, really," she said quietly, but without reproach. Her happiness was greater. She was holding a small white bundle in her arms. Dr. Wonka smiled and bent to it.

"So this is our little Willy," whispered Mrs Wonka to her husband. "You gave us a hard time, sonny," said the smiling husband and tickled the baby on the cheek with his finger. His wife observed him wide-eyed.

"Here, take him," she was handing him their son. Dr. Wonka hesitated first, like he was afraid of hurting him or breaking him, but he took the bundle at the end. It was a peculiar feeling. He was holding his own child. His own blood, the continuator of his line.

"Wilbur Wonka junior," he whispered to the baby who was sleeping like a top. "Such a good boy..." enthused Dr. Wonka. Such a darling. He was looking at the baby in his arms and suddenly he could see the future bright and clear. He saw Willy grow up, play, learn to walk, say his first word (what will this be?), go to school, university... he saw him take his surgery from him... The white swaddling-clothes changed into a doctor's cloak in Dr. Wonka's eyes... On the instant he saw everything in a different dimension. Life suddenly had a sense.

And little Willy Wonka was sleeping and dreaming a sweet dream that was to become truth one day.