A/N: Response time!
Raztaz88, then I'm sure you can relate to some of this timeframe! Personally, I never had to use a typewriter for school (I was born in the late 90s), but jokes about how they work, especially in regards to having to white out mistakes, are so well-known that I know about a lot of aspects of their use anyway. I've never been to London, either, but I really would like to go someday. :-D
Gs33022, Mr. Wonka is finally here! Granted, it's for only a moment, but he will have a proper, elaborate introduction in the next chapter, on which I am working right now. Hopefully, it won't take nearly as long to publish; my dad's birthday was on Monday, so things got a bit busy. Sans Father's Day coming up this weekend (lucky guy!), I should be much freer now.
Oh, yeah...this isn't a response to anyone in particular, but the schoolmate appearing in a brief scene in this chapter is not the fifth character.
A few weeks passed since Willy Wonka's letter had reached the family. During this time, Mr. and Mrs. Beauregarde prepared very gradually by packing most of Violet's things in three large suitcases over the course of these weeks. Additionally, they had kept track of Violet's schoolwork by means of conferencing in order to time the move the most conveniently. When pressed, they just told school staff that Violet was in a station transferring arrangement that was beyond their control, without mentioning any of the background details.
The scene at home was not pretty. For the first few days, Violet gave her parents the silent treatment. Then, she started protesting with abrupt phrases such as "I shouldn't have to go!" or "You don't need to do this. I'm fine!" She accepted her fate very grumpily in time, though.
Finally, at about the middle of September, things at school eased up. Violet got a history test and a biology report out of the way, and the Beauregardes jumped at the openness, finalizing her withdrawal, with few complications. Staff understood that her grades were to be transferred to this new school in London, and mail correspondence would facilitate the process.
This was it. Violet would be leaving that Saturday. First, though, per her parents' encouragement, she arranged for a goodbye party to be held.
...
"Emma! Emma! I have to talk to you!" Violet was heading to the bus runs at the end of the school day during her final week and spotted a pal from one of her classes walking in the hallway. Hurrying, she caught up to Emma, holding a little invitation in one hand.
Emma turned around, startled. "Goodness, Violet! You shouldn't just jump people like that! You scared me half to death!"
"I'm sorry, but this was urgent!" Violet clarified. She handed out the invitation.
Emma took it from Violet and looked down at it. "What's this?"
"I'm having a going-away party this Friday after school. All of my family members who will be available will be attending, and I'm trying to invite as many friends as possible. It's a way to be able to see all of you one last time for who knows how long."
"Going-away party? Are you moving?"
"No. I mean, I am, but my parents are going to stay here."
"Um, why? That seems a little unusual."
Oops! Violet racked her brains for a second. "I'm being put in an exchange program," she lied. "I'm going to be staying with a host family in England for at least a year or two and consequently going to school there." She mentally crossed her fingers, hoping that it sounded plausible enough.
"Oh, okay!" Emma grinned. "I've wanted for quite a while to be a foreign exchange student with a host family. You're so lucky to get this opportunity!"
Violet felt her stomach drop. Lucky? Yeah, right. Lucky, my foot!, she thought to herself.
Emma read the details on the invitation. Friday, September 17 at 3:45 PM, it read, followed by Violet's address and phone number.
Emma smiled. "I think I'll be able to make it!"
Violet gave a faint smile back. "I'm glad to hear it!"
Emma tucked the small notice into her left skirt pocket. Suddenly, she fingered a wrapped piece of gum and, pulling it out, she offered it to Violet. "Do you want this?"
"What flavor?"
"Blueberry."
"No, thank you. I'm fine with the stick I have right now." Violet declined very abruptly, pointing at the wad she was currently chewing. "I haven't beaten Cornelia yet, remember?"
"Oh, okay. I always forget. Well, we both have to catch the bus. I'll see you tomorrow!" Emma waved, exiting the door and hurrying to the bus run.
"So do I. Goodbye!" Violet did the same.
As she boarded the bus, she looked down at the remaining invitations she still had to send out over the week, mostly to direct family. Two down (including Cornelia's), seven to go.
...
As much as she didn't want it even to come around the corner, Violet's final day at home for who knew how long arrived. Nearly everything was packed now. All that was left to do was hold the going-away party before the family set out for the airport in the morning.
Everybody started arriving practically just after Violet came home from school. A few aunts, uncles, and cousins showed up, as well as Violet's paternal grandfather and a second cousin. Every single schoolmate whom Violet had invited had made it, too. In short, everybody who was in or relatively close to Miles City attended in a sort of solemn but hopeful farewell, for a safe arrival home after the spell was broken or for a fun time with the completely invented host family abroad, depending on whom you asked. Relatives who weren't nearby, such as Violet's maternal grandparents, obviously couldn't make it, but they would be told everything in letters afterwards.
While the festivities were as cheerful as possible, Violet most certainly was not. The family members, at least, tried everything that they could, from talking with a happy attitude to giving her shoulder pats and hair ruffles to telling jokes. Unfortunately, only certain things, namely some party snacks and little card games, brightened her mood, and then only slightly. Her schoolmates, on the other hand, had trouble imagining just why Violet was so upset at the prospect of leaving. Wasn't an adventurous travel, especially abroad, every kid's dream? Of course, Violet's friends had absolutely no idea that there wasn't any sort of host family at all, or that Violet was uncertain when she could come home, or that there was any sort of pressing issue that was stressing her out generally anyway.
One particularly memorable exchange happened during a game of Crazy Eights in the kitchen, as Grandpa, Aunt Lauren, a cousin named Rodney, and three school friends (Emma, Fred, and Polly) were sitting with Violet around the table, most of them with either a cupcake or a bag of potato chips beside them. It was very subtle, but everyone soon noticed that, while their card tosses into the discard pile were quick and energetic, she did everything slowly. Finally, Emma thought to ask.
"It's just that I really am not crazy about being away from all of you for so long!" Violet replied. "I don't even know anybody in England—heck, the fact that this is all so sudden is unnerving already!"
Grandpa put a hand on Violet's shoulder. "There, there," he attempted to comfort. "I'm sure that things will turn out okay in the end. After all, nothing is truly permanent."
Violet turned to look. "How do you know? I just seem to have bad luck all the time!"
"Your grandmother is in you, my dear. I know that you sadly never got the chance to know her, but she was a strong woman, and with her being honored in your name, I know that you will succeed."
Violet turned and looked back down at her cards. "Yeah, right, Grandpa. Do you know what that is? Superstition. We're all individuals."
Rodney started to speak up. "Hey, at least you can say that you DID have some massive success when you come home with your cute little—" he started, but his mother promptly shushed him.
"So, just how long are you going to be gone?" asked Polly. "Will we be able to see you by next year or so? I know that it will be longer than this summer, so…"
Violet shrugged, taking the last bite of her cupcake. "I honestly have no clue. Probably a few years, most likely not until I graduate."
Polly made a disturbed face. "Some program!" she muttered, although not loudly enough for anybody, let alone Violet, to hear her.
Fred noticed that Violet had finished her cupcake. "Hey, Violet, do you want another cupcake?" he offered, pointing to the open package on a nearby counter. In answer, Violet wordlessly reached behind her right ear, retrieved the gum that had been stashed there, and popped it into her mouth. Clearly, this was a way of hinting "no". Grandpa and Aunt Lauren cringed at this sight, but, as always, they dismissed Violet's constant chewing habit as only a phase, never having met Cornelia properly. The conversation apparently over, the game continued as if no interruption had happened.
Everybody was gone by five o'clock, and the house was its usual peacefulness for dinner. A few hours afterwards, as Violet was getting ready for bed, she stalled for a moment to take one last look at her room. She would not see it again for at least several years. Most of her belongings had been cleared out and packed, including her entire closet (save for the outfit that had been laid out for tomorrow), but she still had the furniture at which to gaze. Her very nice vanity, dresser, work desk, various forms of seating—it all would have to stay where it was. Violet stared at it all for some time, trying her best not to shed a tear. She had to cut her last look quite short, though, as she saw through her open blinds that the sun was halfway below the horizon and sinking. Quickly, she reached up a blue hand to remove her gum and stick it on a bedpost, used her other blue hand to pull down the dimmer switch until it clicked, and hopped over the bed rail.
...
Violet would have preferred to forget about the plane ride. She had never been on one before, as you may have guessed, but she had to get up as soon as her body reverted and not a minute sooner, at her parents' orders, giving a bad first impression. Her parents had lucked out and discovered that the first flight to London of the day was just before six-thirty, so much of the day was spent on the way over. To Violet, it was approximately eight hours of turmoil. Turbulence was almost ubiquitous, with a noisy rattling sound throughout the whole ride. The stewardess who served the family's lunch included a parfait with blueberries in it as part of the dessert (excusable, though, even if poorly planned). While the Beauregardes weren't in the smoking section of the airplane, smoke still was wafting into their part of the craft and still could be clearly smelled; the noxious odor nearly made Violet gag multiple times. Worst of all, her parents had warned her ahead of time that, due to London being seven time zones away from them, nightfall and thus her blueberry form were going to take effect seven hours earlier than normally. To circumvent this issue, a taxi had to be flagged from London Heathrow immediately to a nearby hotel, and the family just barely managed to get checked and into a room at the last few moments. Sadly, Violet had to sleep in the largest space on the floor, since she would have dominated the bed that Scarlett would have shared with her. Violet hoped that, with Mr. Wonka supposedly being able to make an accommodating environment, she would be able to kiss this recurring, major inconvenience goodbye for good tomorrow.
...
The next morning, the Beauregardes called for another taxi to take them near the factory. Sam had examined a map beforehand and cleverly used an incognito method of arrival by having the taxi drop them off by the schoolhouse near the factory. Mr. Wonka would have preferred any business related to him to be stealthy, after all. They walked the rest of the way, dragging their luggage, until they came to the factory's wrought-iron gates. From there, they peered through, and what should they see but a door, at the very end of a long, red carpet, opening ajar.
There he was! The genius himself, Mr. Willy Wonka, who had evaded the public eye for years, was looking around very slowly, only his head and neck visible, ensuring that nobody else was around to see him. After confirming that Sam, Scarlett, and Violet were indeed the only three people around to watch, he put both arms into view and made a wiggling and pulling gesture, mouthing Go ahead and open them. I've left them unlocked.
