Author's note: this may seem a bit like the very first chapter, but it's not, actually...cause, you see, it's the next generation and we get to take a little stroll through Weldon's mind, not to mention adressing issues that one feels were not adressed in the first chapter. In a way, this is sorta tying things up, seeing as I don't wanna go on forever with this; I get the feeling it's not that well-recieved...but I understand.
Weldon wasn't quite prepared for what awaited him next. He flicked at his now considerably longer hair for a moment, remembering how he had to take female hormones...he'd just get a haircut on the way home.
As the doctor slowly lowered the needle to the skin of Weldon's stomach, Weldon tried to focus on other things. He did his best not to flinch (which happened to be good enough) as the long needle penetrated his soft skin and lingered there for an agonizing second while the plunger was pressed down. Eventually, everything was completed and he put on his shirt and jacket briskly, skipping outside.
2 weeks later he
started to feel a bit strange, and decided to consult his father, the
experienced one, on the matter.
"The rabbit,
Weldon, rest assured, is most undeniably dead." he said cheerfully.
Weldon smiled through another fit of nausea. Willy's expression
became slightly concerned. "Morning sickness, eh?" he asked.
Weldon nodded, afraid to open his mouth. Willy smiled at the fact
that he knew how to alleviate it. "Just cut down on your
vegetables..." he said. Weldon gave him a confused look but tried
it and found it to work quite nicely as the week went on.
He realized that after 3 months, it would be wise to tell Lillian. He reconsidered. She'll find out for herself. He thought.
And boy, was she mad about it.
"You," she
growled, picking up a plate and throwing it at him. "You bastard!"
she shrieked. Weldon poked his face up from behind the couch.
"On the contrary,
my father played both roles." he said, grinning before another
plate was thrown in his direction. Lillian picked up a few ceramic
statuettes and threw them at him, but Weldon ducked behind the couch
again and they shattered against the wall, the shards bouncing off
the crown of his bowler hat. He wasn't particularly upset to be rid
of those things.
"I
give you a beautiful, healthy daughter, and then you go and get
yourself pregnant!
You two-timing, dress-wearing son of a bitch!" she screamed.
Unfortunately, Willy had been walking by and suddenly stopped and
strode into the room.
"I beg your
pardon?" he said, an attempt at a polite smile -which only resulted
as a grimace- marring his otherwise gracefully aged face. Lillian
dropped the statuette in her hand and it bounced off the carpeting,
cracked, but otherwise pristine. Weldon slowly inched from behind
the couch.
"Oh, I-I...I
uh...I..." Lillian fumbled and fidgeted as she tried to fabricate
an excuse in spite of the knowledge that it would all be in vain.
Weldon, by this time, had inched as far as the door without being
noticed.
"Hold on a
minute, Weldon." Willy said, raising his hand.
Or so he had
thought. Weldon turned in the doorway and rested against the frame,
sighing in frustration at the current situation. Willy shot him a
quick glance of warning, expressing that Lillian could easily fire up
at any moment.
"Would you mind
explaining your point of view in this situation to Lillian?" Willy
asked, his face relaxed again. Weldon had looked up from examining
the seams in his sleeves at this.
"Oh,
uh...well...I'd wanted to do this for a while..." Weldon began.
"But when I first considered it, the risks were extremely high,
still, and dad was just looking out for me. Then as I looked even
deeper into the emotional aspect and the risks slowly lowered, I
wanted to do this even more..."
"But what about
what I did?" Lillian asked. "What about me? I went through the
trouble of all that just to be replaced?" she sobbed.
"On the contrary,
sweet..." Weldon said, walking towards her, with his arms
outstretched. Willy snorted with laughter on the word 'sweet'. This
time it was Weldon's turn to shoot him a glance of warning. "Rather,
consider it as me covering for you on a work shift..." Lillian's
eyes turned stony.
"Work shift?"
she shouted. "WORK SHIFT! Do you mean to tell me that you think
that my role on this earth is a WORK SHIFT?"
"No, no, not at
all, no!" Weldon apologized, waving his hands in front of him.
Lillian grabbed one of the porcelain statuettes again, this one
having a very thin shell, and brought it down on Weldon's head.
Willy heard the smallest gasp of remorse as Weldon's eyes rolled back
and he fainted on the floor, still alive, luckily. Willy looked from
the unconscious form of his son on the floor, then at Lillian, giving
her an icy stare. She didn't hesitate to leave excluding the time it
took to pack up some of her clothing and take Helena with her.
Weldon slowly
drifted in and out of consciousness, preferring when he drifted out
of it, as the pain in his head would subside.
Willy
sat in a chair next to Weldon's bed, lifting his eyes from Alice's
Adventures in Wonderland every
time Weldon groaned or moved. Willy had just gotten to the Mad Tea
Party (his favorite part) when he heard the bedsheets rustle again,
and he glanced over. The rustling continued and Willy snapped the
book shut, placing it on a nearby table, when he heard the sound of a
bone-dry palm resting with a 'smack' sound on Weldon's forehead.
Weldon had finally regained consciousness without slipping back out
of it. Weldon squinted his after-midnight-blue eyes to try to figure
out who was sitting next to him.
"How are you
feeling?" Willy said. Weldon groaned and shut his eyes. "Weldon,
Weldon, stay with me, buddy..." Willy said cheerily, poking Weldon
on the shoulder. Weldon squinched his eyes and groaned in protest.
Willy leaned into the back of his chair to let Weldon get his
bearings and regain his focus.
After a moment,
Weldon sat up with his head against the wall.
"How
are you feeling, Weldon?" Willy asked again. Weldon tried to open
his eyes but seemed far too sensitive to the light. He pressed his
cheek against the cold metal. Willy saw this, the corner of his
mouth twitching in recognition. His eyes glazed over as he
remembered the day that he realized his own pregnancy did
start off...
"Why
is this so hard for me to tell you?...It's only 3 words that I
need..."
"Then
go ahead and say them, Mr. Wonka..."
Willy remembered how he pulled his hair out of his eyes again...
"I'm
pregnant, Charlie...". He had
remembered hearing a scuffling and a tiny gasp from Charlie's
direction, but at that point, he had closed his eyes...
"Dad?"
came a familiar voice. Willy realized that his eyes really
were closed. He snapped them
open.
"Yes?" Willy
acknowledged.
"What the hell
happened back there?" Weldon asked.
"Lillian broke a
porcelain figurine on your head..." Willy informed him, shuddering
at the way Weldon had crumpled to the floor as he blacked out.
Weldon noticed the look of worried memory and decided to let his
father take charge of the conversation.
"I wonder if the
head trauma will do anything to the baby?" Willy wondered aloud.
Weldon squirmed with discomfort at the thought. Willy looked to the
floor in apology. Weldon then slid back into a more relaxed and
horizontal position, glancing down at the slight bump that was
starting to form in his stomach. Willy smiled a smile just as slight
as he remembered the day he had noticed the same thing.
"Were you ever
this happy?" Weldon suddenly asked, sighing. Willy shook the sensation of
deja vu from his head, realizing he had asked the same question
nearly 17 years before.
"Oh, yes, of
course...it takes a lot of joyed excitement to make someone get over
the fact that their girlfriend smashed a porcelain figurine over
their heads just a few hours before..." Willy said. Weldon
chuckled.
"Very true, very
true..." he said. Willy's mouth twitched as the sensation of
butterflies fluttered about in his gut. Weldon noticed. "I know
how you feel..." he said. Willy smiled. "And how you felt..."
Weldon added, casting a quick glance at the dreamy expression on his
father's face. "Another flashback?" Weldon asked.
"Nope..." Willy
said. "not really..."
"Well, what
then?" Weldon asked. Willy made very brief eye contact and sighed,
his hands resting on his thighs.
"...couvade..."
Willy said, grinning. Weldon chuckled again. Willy got out of his
chair and walked around. Not pacing, more stretching his legs.
"I guess this has
become a family habit..." Weldon said, placing his hands over his
stomach. Willy stopped as suddenly as if he had come into contact
with the wall of his glass elevator.
"Hopefully
not...but, then again, I'd hate for you to end up like the men in
those nasty movies, what were they? Rabbit Test and
Junior...I think they
were called...anyway, each of them bore girls...I was lucky enough to
have had it turn out different...I wasn't like them in at least 1
way, you know? I wasn't a farce, a device for insulting
comedy...however, indulge me, Weldon...are you planning on a name
yet?" Weldon thought about this for a moment, sitting up on his
bed.
"I don't
know...I'll probably wait until after the operation...and that's
nearly 5 months from now..." Weldon said. Willy turned around,
smiling.
"Ah, a wise
choice. If I had gone with my first thought, you would have been
named after my father, and that would simply not suit you well, now
would it?" he said.
"I suppose not."
Weldon guessed.
"You need a song,
Weldon..." Willy said at random.
"Er...Song?"
Weldon asked.
"Yeah, a song. I
have my own song for the tour that I held...and..." Willy's mouth
hung open slightly as he fought off another flashback. Weldon was
used to this, so he sat patiently. "You like jazz, am I correct,
Weldon?" Willy finally asked.
"Yes, you know I
do, Cab Calloway and Oingo Boingo especially. Except Oingo Boingo is
jazz-rock...but you get my point..." Weldon said.
"Yes, yes I
do...so, what do you say, to...maybe we have the Oompa-Loompas devise
a little jazz song about you? Then we'll give them some nice, extra
cocoa beans..." Willy propositioned.
"Yeah..." said
Weldon distractedly. Willy realized Weldon wasn't listening, but he
couldn't really blame him.
"How'd you sleep
last night, Weldon?" Willy asked at breakfast one morning a few
months later. Weldon looked down at his waffles, rubbing his neck.
"Not so good..."
he said, taking a bite of his waffles.
"What kept you
awake?" Willy then asked. Weldon held up his index finger,
indicating that he had yet to swallow his waffle. After he did this
he gave his reply.
"Had
a bit of a headache and a backache..." Weldon took another bite of
his waffles, then another, and another...and another...Oh,
goodness, these waffles are delicious
he thought to himself.
"Backache? How
bad?" Willy had a lot of questions about this, as he was so curious
to know how things were different for Weldon. Weldon swallowed his
waffles and waited a moment.
"Not terrible,
but enough to keep me awake," Weldon responded. "Am I supposed
to be this hungry, anyway?" Weldon asked, a worried expression on
his face. Willy nodded, his chin resting on his interlaced fingers.
Weldon sighed with relief and began absolutely devouring the waffles.
Willy smiled to himself. He personally had gone through a spaghetti
addiction.
"Good
waffles, huh?" Willy asked, grinning at this point. Weldon nodded
and slumped in his chair, having eaten his fill. "Weldon...put
down the coffeepot." Willy added as an afterthought, catching
Weldon halfway through pouring himself a cup of coffee. Weldon
sighed and set it back on the table, pushing his mug away to lessen
his temptation. "You're 15, you don't need coffee as much as I
do...although...I'm fine if you limit it to only one cup a day, at
maximum."
"Well, lucky me,
this is my first cup..." Weldon said, picking it up. He gulped it
down.
"Only cup."
Willy corrected him. Weldon was quiet for a moment, a strange
expression coming over his face. "Flashback?" asked Willy.
Weldon shook his head, slowly beginning to smile. Willy's eyes
widened as if to say "Oh!". Weldon closed his eyes. Willy, by
this point, could easily infer what was going on in Weldon's
mind...and body, needless to say. Willy stood up and walked the
length of the table. "Now, see, I remember when you did that..."
Willy said, slowly walking to the door as he spoke. Weldon turned in
his chair to see his father about to leave the room.
"Where are you
headed off to?" Weldon asked.
"Same place I
always go, Weldon," Willy said "inspecting every room in the
factory until 4:00, when I go to the inventing room and perfect,
prepare, or ponder a new candy or flavor..."
"Say, do you
think you could invent a craving-satisfying gobstopper?" Weldon
asked. At first, he thought his father was going to laugh.
Instead...
"Oh, yeah, I've
been working on that, actually. We're in the experimental phase
still, but we're heading towards the end of it."
"I was
kidding..." Weldon said.
"A little
nonsense now and then suits the wisest of men..." Willy said,
quoting something from the day the elevator had gone insanely far
into space. "Oh, and on that note, if you want to, we could go to
Minusland today, in case you were wondering- nah...never mind, I'm
terribly sorry I brought it up..." he said, stepping out the door.
"And take it easy, Weldon." he added.
Weldon didn't want
to take it easy, but didn't have a choice, so he decided to go to his
room and add a journal entry. One for each book.
In
the formal journal for the medical packet, he wrote:
Had
trouble sleeping last night...backache and headache. I've started to
notice a sudden increase in my appetite...
Strange physical
sensation, it might be quickening but I can't be sure.
In
his personal journal he wrote:
Dear Diary,
Last night I
couldn't sleep because of a headache and a backache, but I don't
mind, so long as I'm allowed to have my coffee. 1 cup a day is all
I'm allowed to have, dad says. I don't mind that either, I don't
tend to drink much more than that usually, anyway. Today I had the
strangest feeling, right there in the pit of my stomach...I wonder if
that's "Weldon Jr." getting claustrophobic? It probably is...I'm
really excited about this whole affair, really. I mean, think about
it, I, Weldon Wonka, bearing a child in the same way I myself was
borne...Kinda...ironic or...redundant...I can't think of a word...but
the best I can come up with is "unexpected repetition"...that is
a great plot device, I might add...
Weldon
turned on his CD player, realizing he had left it on the Rocky
Horror
soundtrack. He shrugged and continued his journal entry.
I
have to stay on-topic...I'm really excited about the whole affair
because it's not every day or even lifetime that you become a father
and a mother, is it?
Maybe listening to music and reading, and possibly writing more
entries will help me relax a little bit, as we all know that I need
to chill ou- he
suddenly stopped when "Sweet Transvestite" got
to the line "I see you shivering with antici...pation!",
realizing it was so, so very true, his hands were shaking, and he was
excited because of his anticipation...he changed the CD to a personal
mix that he had made in his spare time, which he sure had a lot of
lately...to chill out...he
hurriedly finished and put the journal in his desk drawer, then pored
through his sketches. At first, he had scribbled little shapes with
crayons as a kid, then he had changed to pencils and crayons, then
just pencils...now he only used pens. He traced the outline of a
rather droopy looking candy sheep with his little finger. He flipped
to his more recent pages. His sketches becoming more and more
Warholian every time...lately he had scribbled a picture of a cup of
coffee. He put his sketchbook away, deciding that instead he wanted
to see how things were coming along for him. He took out his medical
binder and looked at the statistics on the page, deciding that they
were pretty good. He turned to ultrasound stills at that point.
There were only 2 pages, since he'd only went in for it 2 times so
far. He sighed, knowing he'd have to go back again this month. Just
because the risks were lower now didn't mean he didn't have to go in
every month for them to check for problems. They were more concerned
about Weldon than his baby for some reason...Weldon didn't
understand, honestly.
Weldon looked at the clock. Already, it was 4:00, so he decided he would head over to the inventing room.
Glad for the
exercise, Weldon opened one of the doors, putting on a pair of
goggles, and walked over to his father, coughing gently to alert him
of his presence. Willy jumped anyway.
"Weldon!" He
spun around on his heeled shoes, which didn't have much hold on the
floor. Weldon caught him and straightened him out. At least Weldon
was wearing sneakers...personally, he rather liked heeled shoes, but
his feet just couldn't stand that at the moment. "Weldon, you
shouldn't be in here."
"Why not?"
asked Weldon, crossing his arms. Willy covered up the beaker he was
stirring with a large rag.
"Because you know
how volatile our flavorings can be, Weldon, remember when you caused
an explosion last year?" Willy reminded him.
"You're just not
gonna let that go, are you?" asked Weldon, laughing.
"Plus I don't
want any adverse affects on your baby, Weldon..." Willy said.
Weldon stopped laughing.
"Oh, yes, of
course...of course..." Weldon mumbled to himself, leaving the room.
"Okay, since he's
out of the way of the possible explosion... let's see if gobstoppers
left in the sun really DO explode..." he popped one into his mouth
and sucked on it for a few moments. Weldon heard a large BANG! from
the inventing room and ran to investigate. Willy lay flat on his
back on the floor, his hat fallen off, lying a few feet away. His
hair was bedraggled and as he sat up, he spat out a tooth.
"I would say they
do..." Willy said to himself. "Explosion-proof gobstoppers,
Weldon...I needed to verify their usefulness..." Willy explained as
Weldon left the room again. "Oh, and Weldon..."
"Yeah?" Weldon
asked, poking his head back into the room.
"You have an
appointment tomorrow..." Willy said. Weldon smacked his forehead
and groaned.
"So, how much
sleep did you get last night?" asked the doctor, a friendly blond
woman with her hair pulled back in a hurried ponytail.
"Blah, I've had
better...I'd say, maybe 5 hours at least..." Weldon said.
"Do you have your
journal updated?" she asked. Weldon handed her his formalized
journal entries and she gave them a quick look, jotting down
statistical notes based on the information she found.
"So you've
started feeling movement?" she said.
"Yeah...it's
kinda exhilarating..." Weldon commented, resting his hand on his
stomach.
"Well, here's a series of stills you can add to your binder..." the doctor handed Weldon an envelope and sent him on his way.
Weldon had started
to notice that anxiety was starting to replace his once-perky
attitude, causing him to get jittery. He would pace if he could, but
his feet couldn't handle ANYTHING anymore, so he would sit and talk
to his father all day.
Weldon sat, tapping
the table incessantly as Willy told him several stories about the
glass elevator.
"I...I hate to
interrupt, dad, seriously, I do...but...I'm curious..." Weldon
wondered.
"That's fine,
Weldon...What is it?" Willy forgave easily lately.
"How will
I know when to go for the operation?" Weldon asked.
"...what I was
told is when the anxiety became too extreme...no adverse effects from
that decision, but I feel like we need to be more precise...you have
about a month left, don't you?"
"Yeah..."
Weldon said, twirling his hand as a signal for his father to
continue.
"Then we will
wait for 3 more weeks, case closed." Willy said, placing a small
candy on the table.
"What's that?"
asked Weldon.
"Why, it's the
craving-sensitive gobstopper I was working on, AND it's
explosion-proofed!" Willy squeaked excitedly. Weldon flinched at
high pitches. "Go ahead, take it!" Willy said. "We worked out
all the kinks just for you."
"Aw, that's
really nice of you guys..." Weldon said, popping it into his mouth.
"Mmm...chocolate, how did it know?"
"I must say that
for the second time in my life, I'm at a loss, to be honest..."
Willy said.
"What was the
first time?" asked Weldon, the gobstopper clicking in his teeth.
"17 years ago in
the elevator, Charlie Bucket's crazy grandmother asked me an equally
crazy question, and I honestly didn't know..." Willy said
theatrically. Weldon almost spat out the gobstopper (which had
changed to ramen-noodle flavor at this point) from laughter.
Will Weldon's child be healthy? Will Willy be a good grandfather? Will I be able to keep it from sounding exactly like the very first episode?
COME BACK SOON TO FIND OUT!
(or, if the next chapter is already up and you're reading this at a fairly late date, just go to the next chapter)
