Chapter 8 –An Encounter with Slugworth

Once Mike Teevee had been confirmed as the winner of the fourth golden ticket, the entire world had lost its collective mind. The search for the last golden ticket had reached fever pitch, with reports of people even being held hostage in exchange for Wonka bars.

It was hard to believe that a full year had passed since Willy Wonka made his famous announcement and spring had once again returned to the little town. The deadline for the end of the contest crept ever closer, yet the final ticket winner was nowhere to be found. Wonka Mania was growing stronger every day. Speculation was rife about the location of the final golden ticket and if it even existed.

Half the world seemed inclined to believe that the famous chocolatier was leading them all on a merry chase, and that there was, in fact, no fifth ticket to be found anywhere. The other half of the world had descended into madness both trying to prove the others wrong and by finding the ticket themselves. It wasn't unusual to find a homeless person huddled in front of a building, clutching chocolate wrappers and muttering to themselves.

The hometown of the chocolate factory harboured its own little obsessed community.

Over the past few weeks, the little town had done it's best to decorate every possible street with banners welcoming Willy Wonka back into the world. Any available accommodation had been filled to capacity and the run down, sleepy town had been bustling with new people cluttering up all the trendy tourist spots they could find.

The town had even formed an official band, and the area directly in front of the factory had been meticulously cleaned, and barricaded for crowd control. A stage area had been set aside for the ticket winners and hundreds of media personnel from around the world had gathered together outside with their vans, drones and camera equipment.

It was a noisy, chaotic mess.

And yet, the last golden ticket remained elusive for a very long time. A few hoaxes had, of course, pretended to have found the last ticket, but they all proved false. Until today.

The final ticket winner had officially been announced not even an hour ago as a young zillionaire from Dubai.

All contest winners had been found, and they would be meeting Willy Wonka the very next day at ten o'clock sharp.

The news spread like wildfire through the tiny town as the news passed from customers to shopkeepers, to friends and family members.

Charlie heard all about it at school and he was completely sick of everything. Everything! Knowing about all the winners and their fantastic lives was sickening. Knowing that they were going to see inside the factory and meet Willy Wonka himself, whilst Charlie would be stuck in his horrible, boring, useless life! It wasn't fair!

He opened his school locker to collect his books. The back of his locker was filled with photos of his family that had been salvaged from that dreadful fire. His eyes lingered on an older photo showing him being held in the loving embrace of his grandfather.

Charlie sighed and closed the locker with more force than was necessary. The noise echoed down the empty hall. The other children had long since abandoned the school building; racing off home as fast as they could.

Charlie felt an overwhelming sense of sadness. He leaned his head against the locker and squeezed his eyes shut. He felt heavy and unnaturally lethargic, but his mind was racing, his thoughts swirling around like brittle leaves being chased in the breeze.

He was never going to find the ticket. He was never going to meet his idol, and he would let down the memory of his grandpa Joe. Izzy would look at him with those sad eyes and try to cheer him up. He didn't deserve her sympathy. Why couldn't nice things happen to him? It was so unfair. He wanted this so badly. He wanted so very badly to go into that factory with Izzy, live out his dreams from so long ago and finally get to meet the person who had inspired so much admiration and imaginative stories from his grandpa Joe. It just wasn't fair.

Charlie forced himself to pick up his school bag and leave the building. He had to face the outside world. His legs automatically moved him down the hallway and down the outside steps. He wasn't consciously thinking of moving, far too caught up in his depressing thoughts.

On top of the terrible news, the anniversary of his family's death was today as well and he just couldn't bear thinking about anything anymore. Was this his punishment? Life was so unfair. Charlie really felt as if he couldn't breathe.

He was supposed to meet up with Izzy in the glade, as they usually did, but he just couldn't conjure up a smile for her today.

Yes, the crisp spring afternoon was no longer as freezing cold as the morning had been, yes, the sun was shining brightly and yes, the birds were happily chirping in the trees. If you asked, anyone would have said it was a truly gorgeous day.

But not for him. The day had never been darker for Charlie Bucket.

He trudged into the little clearing, scattering a few sparrows who flittered away with a collective squawk.

Charlie glared at them with envy. He really longed to fly far away with them, to fly away from all of his problems.

He saw Izzy sitting on a rock, sketching something only she could see. Her easel and canvas were nowhere to be seen today.

Charlie sniffed a little.

"Hi Charlie" she called out, but Charlie just flopped down in his usual spot and grunted.

Izzy packed away her sketchbook, sat down next to him and handed over a tiny package.

Charlie just stared at it in his lap. He didn't need to unwrap it; he knew exactly what it was. He was given the same thing every year as an 'I'm sorry your family is dead' gift. This year, it was especially painful to see. Last year the gift had filled him with hope, this year, he felt as if his soul had been crushed. Embarrassingly, he felt his eyes begin to sting.

Isabelle just wrapped an arm around his shoulder and lay her head against his.

"What would grandpa Joe say?" She asked him.

Charlie sighed. He remembered his favourite grandfather always being positive and happy. Nothing ever got him down, he would keep going, even if the contest was over and done now. He would want Charlie to smile and be happy for Isabelle instead drowning in a pool of sadness and making her sad too.

Charlie mustered his courage; he could do this.

Slowly, Charlie reached for his present and began to unwrap it. The expected Wonka bar came into view and he held it with both hands.

"This is for you grandpa Joe." Charlie sniffed and began unwrapping the wrapper. "Let's see some gold."

The wrapper fell away, but of course, no gold appeared. Every single ticket had been found already. Charlie just stared, unmoving.

"You know what; "He sniffed as Isabelle gave him a squeeze. "I bet those tickets made the chocolate taste terrible."

He missed his mum so much, the memory of her soft voice and loving arms was fading a little every day. He really missed her, and his dad, and all of his grandparents.

He didn't deserve Izzy and her kindness. He didn't deserve anything. No wonder he never found a ticket.

He cried into Izzy's arms for a long time that afternoon.

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The duo walked home in silence.

"Come on Charlie, let's take the quieter route past Bill's shop today, the factory is buzzing with media." Isabelle was really trying her best to cheer him up, so he agreed, even though it would take much longer to get back home and he really wanted to shut himself in his room and hide from the whole world.

As they turned into Cherry Street, Charlie saw something glittering in the gutter and stopped. "Wait up, Izzy." He bent down and managed to fish out some coins that a careless rich person had lost.

"What did you find Charlie?" Izzy crouched down to see as Charlie opened his hand and showed her the two coins.

The pair looked at the coins and then looked at each other. 'Just enough for a Wonka bar.' They both had the same idea and grinned at each other.

"It's a sign from grandpa Joe, come on Charlie, let's run."

They ran the last few meters to Bill's shop and up to the counter.

Bill gave them a wave as he finished up with his customer.

"It's about time you visited again. What'll it be young man?" He asked.

"One Wonka bar please." Charlie eagerly said and Bill turned away with a grin. He scooped one off the shelf and handed it to Charlie with a flourish and a wink.

"Ugh, can you believe it?" A nearby customer spat in disgust. "it was another fake, again!" She flapped the iPage in disgust, making the holographic images distort and waver.

"What was fake?" Isabelle asked.

"The winner of the fifth ticket was a fake, see." The iPage was shoved into Isabelle face and she took a step backwards. "The real one is still out there!"

Charlie wasn't paying any attention to the commotion behind him. He couldn't believe his eyes.

He had torn off the wrapper and found gold. It twinkled in the shop lights. He dropped the Wonka bar and held up the ticket in complete disbelief.

Everything around him seemed to fade into a background hum. He was dimly aware of being jostled from all sides and lots of shouting, but he was too busy staring in complete shock at the ticket in his hands to really pay anyone any mind.

Suddenly, his coat was yanked and he stumbled to the side.

"That's enough!" Bill bellowed with a loud voice, stepping out from behind the counter and gently guiding Charlie to his side.

Isabelle stood at his back in an instant, protectively squeezing his shoulders and glaring at the milling customers. Most had their smartphones out and were either filming Charlie, updating their social feeds or calling their families. It was a huge commotion.

Bill bent down and met Charlie's eyes.

"Run straight home Charlie! Don't give that ticket to anyone!"

Charlie burst into action and raced outside of the shop, pushing his way through the crowd and leaving Isabelle far behind. He could faintly hear her calling after him, but he didn't stop or slow down.

He turned a corner and climbed through a fence, which led him to one of his favourite shortcuts home. 'Home' in this instance, was Isabelles little flat. It was the only place he could think to run to.

Charlie turned another corner, ran straight into someone, stumbled backwards and almost tripped over his own feet. This allowed Isabelle to finally catch up. Once again, she held onto Charlie's shoulders as she stood behind him protectively.

"Sorry for running into you sir, Charlie is just a bit too excited to think clearly at the moment." Isabelle apologised with a smile.

The stranger didn't smile back. He just stood in the laneway and stared at Charlie, or rather, he stared at the ticket that Charlie was holding.

"Allow me to introduce myself." The man said in a menacing monotone. It wasn't a question.

"My name is Arthur Slugworth. Yes, owner of Slugworth Inc, you know my chocolates very well." He cleared his throat and stared intently at Charlie.

"Listen carefully, because I am going to make you very rich. Yes, very rich indeed. Rich enough to live the life you have always dreamed about."

Charlie felt very uncomfortable, and starting edging backwards. Isabelle was ready to turn and run the other way. Who was this creep?

Slugworth noticed their anxiety, took a step backwards and held up one hand.

"All I ask of you is to bring me an invention of Wonka's. An Everlasting Gobstopper. Remember that name Everlasting Gobstopper. Bring it to me, and I will reward you."

He handed Charlie a business card, hesitated, then handed it to Isabelle when Charlie didn't reach out for it.

Isabelle took the card and glanced at it nervously.

Slugworth looked at Charlie. "Everlasting Gobstopper. Bring it to me, and you will be rich. Goodbye now."

Isabelle and Charlie watched as Slugworth brushed past them and hastily strode away.

They stared at each other, then continued their race home.

They collapsed on the couch once Isabelle had locked her front door behind them and dropped her shoulder bag on the floor. Sketchbooks and pencils rolled out and scattered, but Isabelle could not have cared less about her precious sketches at that moment.

"I can't believe it!" Charlie gasped.

"Let me see it Charlie, please." Charlie handed the ticket over and started to dance around the room.

"Jumping Crocodiles, Charlie it's real. You really found one!" Isabelle was hastily reading through the fineprint that included the terms and conditions of redeeming the ticket.

"Hold up, Charlie. Tomorrow is the deadline; the factory tour starts at ten in the morning." She continued reading.

"It also says that you have to have a parent or legal guardian to accompany you, only one though. Hmmm." Isabelle murmured as she continued to read. Hopefully that would be overlooked considering Charlie's circumstances.

Isabelle pulled out her battered smartphone. It was basic and cheap, but essential for life and in these situations, a lifesaver.

"I'll call the Wilkinsons and explain what happened. Do you want to stay here tonight if they allow you to?" Isabelle watched Charlie nod enthusiastically, his big grin almost splitting his face in two.

As she waited for someone to answer the phone, she looked at Charlie and smiled at how excited he was. She was truly happy for him, and felt as if a huge weight had lifted off of her shoulders. She could hardly believe how lucky Charlie had been to find those coins and buy the winning bar. She frowned a bit. It really had been a huge coincidence. Almost too unbelievable.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Jeffrey Wilkinson answered the phone.

Isabelle quickly explained what had happened, the excitement clearly colouring her voice. She activated the old-fashioned speakerphone so Charlie could tell his side of the story.

"How wonderful Charlie. I am truly happy for you." Mr Wilkinson's baritone cut through the excitement. "My wife and I had truly hoped this would happen."

Isabelle and Charlie fell quiet as Mr. Wilkinson continued talking.

"Congratulations Charlie. Please enjoy your day. I'm sure you will find wonders beyond your wildest imagination inside those walls. Have a wonderful day, both of you. Rest up well and we will see you when you return. Good night."

Mr Wilkinson hung up, and Isabelle switched off her phone.

Charlie was dancing around the room again, occasionally flinging himself at Isabelle and hugging her.

Later that night, after they had prepared everything needed for the next day, Isabelle lay in her bed and reflected. She was happy, but unsettled.

Something just didn't feel right and she didn't know why.

It was the anniversary of the death of Charlies family, usually a day filled with sadness, but it had rapidly turned into the best day of Charlies life so far.

He had miraculously found some money in a drain of all places, and bought a winning ticket. Then, not five minutes later, they had run into a shifty man in an alleyway, who already knew that Charlie had won. How did the man know that, and how did he 'just happen' to be in that exact alleyway at that exact time? Why would the CEO of a company be lurking in random alleyways anyway?

Maybe she would have some time tomorrow to research this Slugworth character, it seemed like something she should really do. She tried to remember the face, but the only thing that stood out in her memory was his big ears and shaved head.

Anxieties and worries aside, Isabelle eventually managed to drift off into a peaceful sleep. The last thought that wafted through her head was that she had completely forgotten about her shift at work that night. She really needed to remember to call in tomorrow and beg them not to fire her.

As Mr Wilkinson ended the call with Isabelle, he patted the pocket of his suit jacket. Inside, safely wrapped up in gift-wrap, lay a very special anniversary Wonka bar.

"Sometimes," he murmured, "happiness needs a little helping hand."

He wandered into the kitchen, hugged his wife and checked his contacts list to find his employer.

'It's done.' Was the simple text he sent, followed by 'He found Bill's, mine wasn't needed. Good Luck tomorrow.'

He slipped the phone back into his pocket and smiled at Dorothy.