I do not own anything from Charlie and the Chocolate factory. All rights and likenesses belong to Roald Dahl, Johnny Depp and Tim Burton. The Oompa Loompa have agreed to a one-hour a week house cleaning spree, however the price has turned out to be an arcade version of "Dance Revolution," Hmm…guess I'm going to have to give up my Starbucks habit to save up for one. – Stealth Phoenix

Chapter 11

The next few days flew by in bright Technicolor frenzy for Willy. Flustered at the thought of going out with an adult female to a party, he resorted to extensive research – internet, women's magazines, and watching daytime drama on Oxygen Women's network. All led to much more confusion.

He was forced to resort to actually asking someone about it.

"I want Veronica to have a good time, but how am I supposed to be a self-confident sensitive modern man without impinging on her personal growth or disrespecting her accomplishments through inadvertent insult to her femininity?" He sputtered one evening as sat at the Bucket's table watching Mrs. Bucket prepare dinner. "I'm not sure I can handle this kind of stress!" His head sunk into his hands in despair.

The Grandparents seemed to all be in some sort of discomfort – although Grandma Georgina's seemed to be based in the paroxysm of shaking from the others. Grandpa George's eyes were watering especially hard and an occasional snerk of suppressed laughter escaped him.

"Where did you hear that line of hooey?" asked Grandpa Joe in bewilderment.

"Oprah."

"There is so much conflicting information out there. One says, 'Don't be afraid to show your emotions.' Another says 'Emotional fortitude leads to stronger relationships and that showing strong emotion leads your partner to lose respect'," Willy was bouncing with indignation. "My god! No wonder civilization is heading to hell in a handbasket – marriages are down, divorces are up, school shootings are practically an epidemic. Ack!"

Mrs. Bucket seemed only mildly amused, "Willy, most of what you are reading or even seeing is an exaggeration of only one aspect of a relationship.

"But Cosmo says that one of the top ten things for salvaging a relationship is to be a social butterfly – I hate crowds and terrified of meeting new people in a social setting. I'm not going to impress anyone when I vomit on their shoes." Willy's arms were waving around with his aggravation – which grew as Grandpa George finally succumbed to the situation and fell out of bed with a thump, laughing with big braying donkey laughs that caused the others to crack up.

Even Charlie wasn't sympathetic to the plights of the Chocolatier this time. He was laughing just as hard.

Willy just regarded the group with a despondent expression on his face. Fat lot of help this bunch was.

Finally, it was Charlie's father who took pity on the clueless man. "Willy – how much do you really think that all this research you are doing is really helping your cause?"

"Not one bit! I'm just getting more twitterpated and worked up. This is really affecting my work – last night I was mixing up a new flavor of butterscotch gum drops and got to thinking how the color really looked like Veronica's hair – and I ended up dumping Butterwhiskey to the batch instead. I had Oompa Loompas smashed out of their skull staggering around the invention room – one barfed in the Three-course-meal gum machine making a truly revolting follow-up to the tomato soup."

He sighed in frustration. "I received a sharply worded note from the Chief at the apparent ill-health of his people and had to go apologize. Luckily, he was just curious and made me promise to bring the Butterwhiskey to the Exodus Party."

Charlie's father just clasped his shoulder in a show of solidarity, "I know what you mean. When I first met Clara, I collected more bumps and bruises than I cared to count. "

Willy paused and shuddered, "Ew. It's not like that. She's just a good friend. I just don't want to let her down."

Charlie's parents just exchanged a look over Willy's head – he was in such denial.

"Well then, just be yourself as hard as you can and nothing can go wrong dear." Charlie's mother patted the top of his head and set the bowl of mashed potatoes before him.

"Flowers and candy are always a nice touch," chimed in Grandma Georgina.

"Nevermind the femi-nazis, being a gentleman and holding a door for a lady never go out of style," said Grandpa George returning to the bed once more.

"Gravy?"

"Flowers, candy, be myself - but be a gentleman and gravy…got it." Willy said, whipping out his notepad and pencil and scribbling rapidly.

"No, I meant would you like gravy with your meal?"

"I've noticed that girls seem to like to be talked with, not at. Missy Patterson in my class seems to appreciate it," chimed in Charlie, helping himself to the potatoes. "If you just stare at their chest, you tend to get slapped."

Everyone had to pause at that confession and stare at Charlie. His ears started to turn red and he muttered, "Um…Well, that's what I heard."

"If everything else doesn't work – always fall back on the project. It's a safe topic - common ground and all that," said Mrs. Bucket.

Willy thought that the Buckets had given good advice for the date itself. It would take a heartier soul to help him sort through his feelings for this crazy, yet wonderful woman.

He approached the office of Sheur-Man-Ra, psychiatrist. Sherman had been his therapist for years and his sage advice had yet to steer him wrong. The Buckets were aware that he came to talk to Sherman from time to time for therapy, but they hadn't yet realized Sherman's role in the Oompa Loompa society.

He was their Shaman – hence the name.

As the tribe's wise-man and magician, he had often joked that after mastering the ceremonies and mysticisism of the Oompa Loompa tribe, understanding the "tall" mind was a simple trick indeed. Willy intended to put his knowledge to the test.

Sherman greeted him warmly and invited Willy to make himself comfortable. Ignoring his usual smoking jacket, he elected to sit on the couch and regard the small man.

Sherman raised an eyebrow at the deviance to Willy's usual routine, "Would you care for some tea, Won-Ka?"

"Yes, please."

Sherman rose and plugged in the electric kettle. Neither man said anything until Willy had a mug of Sherman's special blend herbal tea was in hand.

"Ms. Carmichael." Willy sipped his tea thoughtfully and Sherman settled back into his wing-back chair and waited for him to continue.

"We hear that you sought her out and sent crews to renovate her professional kitchen."

"Yes."

Willy said nothing more for a moment, and the psychiatrist waited patiently.

"She makes artisan candy – individual pieces as art."

"Similar interest then."

"Yes." He sipped his tea and felt his muscles relax.

Sherman sighed, this was going to take forever at this rate.

"You feel conflict."

"Indeed. She had grown into a great friend. She's funny, talented, does this really neat flipping thing with her pen when she's distracted…"

"And you want her as a man wants a woman?"

The Chocolatier sighed, trust Sherman to cut to the chase of the matter.

He closed his eyes and let the tea relax him further.

"Yes."

Sherman nodded. He'd had a feeling that this is what was bothering the great man.

"Do you trust her?"

"Yes."

The Oompa Loompa paused. Normally, Won-Ka's trust with the outside world was something that was hard won and easily lost. He must feel something significant for this woman to answer so quickly.

He glanced at the mug of tea. It was half-gone, still steaming gently. Won-Ka knew that his special blend was used for medicinal purposes as well as tribal ceremonies. It had the properties of relaxing the conscious mind and body. Won-Ka was unusually close to his unconscious mind for an outsider, and that is what allowed him great feats of creation. This also meant that he was largely disconnected from his baser instincts – like hunger, thirst, exhaustion and passion.

For someone from the outside to have touched these weakened instincts, Won-Ka must feel very strongly. He must be guided to this realization carefully.

"Tell me of her. What does she look like?" asked Sherman gently.

Willy turned to lie down on the chaise lounge. He placed the top hat on the floor next to him and rested the cane next to it, then moving slowly as if hypnotized, rested his hands on his head with his eyes still closed.

"She's a little shorter than me. Her hair is some color between auburn and chestnut, I can't figure out what to really call it. Her eyes…" Willy paused and opened his own to stare at the ceiling.

"They're hazel – green and kind of a gold…like the frames of old pictures. They tend to shift between colors as she talks."

"That is a rough physical description Won-Ka. I could pick someone with that coloring out of a crowd, but would not recognize her. What makes Ms. Carmichael uniquely her?" Sherman's light rebuke made Willy flush as he realized what the psychiatrist was driving at.

"She's pale – not quite like mine, but more of a porcelain colored. She's too skinny for her own good – she could use a little rounding out. Her eyebrows could use a little work. She's even got these little gold-colored freckles on her nose and cheeks…"

"Won-Ka."

He signed, "Alright! Geez, in a hurry much? It's her…fire. She's just so expressive about whatever she's talking about. I can tell exactly what she's thinking about by her expressions. When she's happy, I feel on top of the world – I want to get up and dance just to see her smile. When I see that something is bothering her, I want to go all cro-magnum and beat up whatever's making her feel that way. "

"I want to reach out and touch her," Willy whispered, his voice thick with longing.

Sherman sat up straight, eyes wide at this information. If Ms. Carmichael was getting through to Won-Ka enough to get through two of his biggest fears…

"She's been looking so worn. I want to hold her and stroke her hair – tell her that I'm there for her and want to help her feel better."

"She sounds like a very special woman. What does she say about all this?"

"I don't dare tell her. It'll just drive her away…"

"Are you sure?"

"Hey. Aren't you the psychiatrist? What do you think she'd say if I came out and told her all this?"

"What is all…this?"

"That …." Willy's eyes widened in sudden realization. All the butterflies, strange urges, occasional nausea – they all added up.

"I'm falling for her."

Sherman nodded in satisfaction. Won-Ka had confronted his troubles only to discover that they were a shadow of his real issue.

"If you are asking me if I think that Ms. Carmichael may return your feelings, I have no basis of comparison and I believe that you would have to ask her how she feels.

Seeing Willy pale dramatically, he hastened to continue, "Or, you can wait and see how it plays out. No need to go rushing into grand declarations without an inclination of her own feelings."

Willy closed his eyes again, and for the first time in many days, felt relaxed enough to drift.

"Oh. Good. Because I've got a date with Veronica in four days."

The Oompa Loompa paused, stunned. "Veronica?"

"Ms. Carmichael?"

Sherman made a noncommittal noise and Willy drifted off to sleep, as he often did after their sessions. The small man slipped out of the room and headed down the hall to the chute that led to the heart of the Oompa Loompa village in the heart of the factory.

His professional face slipped as he dove down the long slide, excitement creased his dark features. What obvious things these outlanders missed.

Landing on bags of marshmallows at the bottom, Sherman bounced up and sprinted for the center of the village – to the Chief's hut.

Mic-Ka.

Sherman burst in – the chief in his traditional palm frond and shell necklace looked up in surprise.

"Sheur-Man-Ra? What is the great excitement? Is Won-Ka alright?" the man asked in alarm.

Sherman composed himself and bowed in traditional fashion with great respect, "Great Mic-Ka. I bring good news."

Mic-Ka waved his hands in annoyance, "Yes, Yes. Out with it already!"

"Wonk-Ka came to me with heavy heart and shared his troubles with me as is proper."

"Yes, and I know you will not share his troubles for it is not the outlander way."

"Indeed, but he did reveal something I may share with you – as the topic is common knowledge."

"What might that be, Sheur-Man-Ra?"

"The name of the outlander woman that Won-Ka sought out."

"We know that already, Ori-vil brought great honor to the tribe for bringing the name as well as some new kickin' tunes for the exodus ceremony." The chief was growing annoyed with the Shaman.

"Remember that outlander names come in two or three parts – I have the first part."

Mic-Ka straightened up with interest sharpening his features. Oompa Loompa names not only indicated identification, but family ties and occupations as well as status in the tribe. 'Ra' indicated a professional following in the outlander world, 'Man' indicated an honored holding in the tribe. 'Ka' indicated leadership as well as ..not necessarily divinity, but derived of the divine.

The Oompa Loompa had never told Willy what his name translated to – "Divine Savior of Whimsy." It was what had given the tribe the first clue that their beleaguered existence was about to take a turn for the better when the giant outlander had staggered into their village.

When Won-Ka brought Char-Li into their lives, the Oompa Loompa knew it was meant to be. Cha-Li meant, "Follower of the Cocoa Bean."

A whole name would indicate a great deal about the woman who had captured their savior's attention.

"Ver-Oni-Ka." announced Shur-Man-Ra.

The chief hissed between his teeth at this revelation. This was a powerful name indeed. Roughly translated into the language of the tribe, it meant "Divine Light of the Heart."

This was an unusual turn so close to a prestigious date.

Shuer-Man-Ra nodded as he followed the chief's train of thought, "This is a great omen."

"Continue to offer Won-Ka guidance in their silly outlander way. However, you must convince him to bring Ver-Oni-Ka to the Exodus Ceremony. If this is an omen, then it will play out there and nowhere else," the chief ordered, standing suddenly. "Send Nei-Vil to me immediately – we must start to prepare!"

This was truly the season of great changes.