I do not own anything from Charlie and the Chocolate factory. All rights and likenesses belong to Roald Dahl, Johnny Depp and Tim Burton. I blame Mr. Wonka for sending me a copy of "Re: Your Brains" by Tom Colton and getting that incestuous tune stuck in my head for the past two days. My bounty stands at 250.00, let's see if we can 'up' that with teaching the Oompa Loompa the entire They Might Be Giants library. – Stealth Phoenix
Chapter 17
Veronica was blind deaf and dumb to anyone or anything in her path in her frantic sprint toward her building. Her legs shook and nearly buckled several times as her breath sawed painfully in and out of her lungs in the cold dry air. She felt detached from her body as it labored through the snowy streets in the softly falling snow. The smell of smoke drifted low and heavy the closer she got.
Please no! Please not my building! Please let it be someone else's! she prayed as the stitch in her side threatened her progress. She sobbed and pressed forward up one more block, turning the corner to see her building.
The building was a vision out of hell. Demonically curling flames caressed and devoured old brick and wood, black smoke and flame billowed from every window. Ashes fell mixed with snow from the sky. The heat was like a physical force, pushing her back from the wreckage.
Three fire trucks were gathered around the building, men running in organized patterns deploying hoses and spraying the flames with water. They could have been standing around roasting marshmallows with all the effectiveness they showed. It was obvious that they had arrived too late to save the building and now fought to keep the fire from spreading to others.
Tears streamed down her face and she suddenly lunged forward toward her home – desperation giving her strength.
She had to save something, anything! It was her life, her future, her happiness that was being devoured by flames.
Firefighters grabbed and clung to her as she sprinted across the intersection, "Miss – no you can't go in there!"
She struggled with the man in the heavy canvas coat, plastic mask and air tank, "No! It' my building! I need to save what I can!" she shrieked.
The man rolled his eyes; this was hardly the first hysterical person he'd had to prevent from entering a burning building. "Wilson help me with her! Miss – it's a total loss. There's nothing you can do!" he bellowed, wrestling with the crazed woman.
She twisted and fought with every ounce of strength in her body, mindless in her anguish.
The heat was blistering and the two men managed to force Veronica away from the burning building. Although she fought and lunged to try and save anything, her mind was disconnected and she numbly realized that everything she had worked and slaved for was gone.
She slumped in defeat and let herself sob harshly, agony and despair overwhelmed her. A third man ran up to assist the firefighters restraining her and she was suddenly wrapped in velvet-clad arms. Willy was there, stroking her hair and searching her eyes for any degree of reason.
He held her sobbing body and turned his head to regard the burning building. Steely resolve and anger filled his features, "Is it salvageable?" he demanded of the firefighters.
They shook their heads sadly, "It's an old building and didn't have current fire-code features such as sprinklers. It was a loss before we even got here."
Veronica shook violently, lost in her own world of pain and panic. The panic attack rendered anything anyone was saying into indecipherable rubbish. Willy comfortingly stoked her hair and back, trying to sooth her.
"What was the cause?" he asked, his cold tone relaying his anger more than any outbreak of emotion.
"I'll send over the chief to talk with you. Are you the owner?"
Willy nodded. The second firefighter who had been silent throughout the exchange handed a scratchy woolen blanket to Willy and helped him wrap the hysterical woman in it. Veronica's skin was ice cold and she was pale blue around the lips fingers. "She's going into shock. We should get her medical attention," said a gentle voice. Willy was slightly startled to note that the second figure was a woman.
He shook his head, "I'll take care of her – once I talk to the chief, I'll take her home."
A solid brick of a man approached the trio. A heavily lined face, red from the heat and decorated with a bristling grey moustache regarded Willy from his crouched position next to Veronica. "Sir, I'm Fire Marshall William McGee. I understand you are the owner of this building. Do you happen to know what business rented the top floor?"
Willy helped Veronica from the cold asphalt and returned the appraisal, "Yes. I am the owner and the top floor was Ms. Carmichael's workshop."
McGee glanced at Veronica unsympathetically, "That's where the fire started. Apparently, some heat-generating equipment was left on and started the flame."
She wasn't so far gone to allow the blame for this horror to lay on her shoulders, "Nonsense! I unplug everything before I leave. I wouldn't risk everything like…" she shook and was lost again to the rising panic attack. Damn it! Not now – she was being accused of arson for Christ's sake!
Ignoring her, the chief coldly continued, "Apparently, there was someone living on the floor below as well. As this area is zoned for commercial businesses, we're asking if you want to press charges against the occupant for illegal residency."
Veronica spiraled lower into her panic attack, she was going to jail! Her breath heaved rapidly, she felt like she was drowning. She started to flail uncontrollably, she couldn't breath!
Willy struggled with her glaring at the chief, unconcerned with the desolation he was heaping on the struggling woman. "No – I will not be pressing charges. You should be a little more concerned about the fact that people's lives are being ruined rather than bureaucracy at this moment Chief McGee."
Veronica was growing numb, she couldn't feel her face or limbs, darkness was creeping into her vision. Her lungs heaved uselessly as she fought for air and her stomach churned, threatening to heave its contents.
Willy stared at her, eyes aflame with worry, "Veronica? Stay with me!"
The darkness was closing in and the only thing tethering her to reality was her inhuman grasp on Willy's hands and the dim light of his eyes in the encapsulating darkness.
"Veronica!" he shouted, taking his hand to press against her face.
With that last contact lost, she passed out.
--
Willy was frantic when she went limp in his arms, her eyes slitted and rolled back in her head. The female firefighter swore and moved forward to check her vitals as the chief turned and bellowed, "Medic!"
With the firefighter's guidance, he gently carried the unconscious woman to a waiting gurney. Pressing two fingers to the pulse point on Veronica's neck, the firefighter called out, "BP normal, respiration is out of whack – get her some oxygen!"
The piled another blanket on top of her and quickly pressed a mask to her face. The dreadful blue tinge began to fade away to be replaced by healthy pink. Reassured by the turnaround, he left Veronica to the care of the paramedics to stomp over to where the Chief was growling orders into a walkie-talkie.
"Thank you for that charming display of tact Chief McGee," Willy snarled. "Would you care to disembowel some puppies next?"
McGee was unmoved, "I'm doing my job. I don't have time to hold the hand of every fainting female that comes along."
Furious at the callous nature of the man Willy gritted his teeth and managed to say, "I want a full investigation into what started the fire. I will offer full cooperation to the investigating authority only if I get the same respect."
"You'll get your due process, sir. Now if you will excuse me, I'm trying to prevent the rest of the block from going up," said McGee dryly.
Willy returned to the gurney. Veronica was still out and the paramedic in question was slipping a syringe of something into her arm. "It's a sedative. Her system was already stressed and this just pushed it over its limit," he explained at Willy's questioning glance.
"Will she be alright? Does she need to go to the hospital?" he asked, taking her hand in his again.
"She's fine for now. Fainting is kind of like rebooting a computer in this case – too much stimulus and Bam! Reboot." The paramedic said soothingly. "She just needs rest and a quiet environment for tonight. Does she have anywhere to go?"
"She's coming with me. I'll look after her." The hard tone of his voice and the tender expression as he looked at the woman on the gurney were at odds.
"I'll need to get some contact information to follow up with. What's her name and who are you?" asked the man grabbing a clipboard and pen.
Willy relayed the information with a flat tone, never taking his eyes from Veronica, watching her breath – making sure the next breath kept coming. He ignored the incredulous expression on the paramedic's face.
"May I take her now?" he asked wearily, the evening catching up.
"Yeah. There's nothing you can do here. I'll be here a bit longer and will let anyone else looking for you two know where to contact you." The paramedic was sympathetic to the exhaustion on the Choclatier's face.
Willy merely nodded and thanked the man before carefully gathering Veronica in his arms, ensuring the ugly wool blanket was tucked close. He strode away from the now smoldering building, glaring at McGee as he went. Just around the corner, the Wonkavator sat waiting for the master of the factory to return.
He used one foot to nudge the door open and carried Veronica inside. He gently set down and propped her upright in the corner before rising and pushing a complicated series of buttons with both hands. The Wonkavator turned on, and with full autopilot control soared toward the factory. He sighed in weariness and frustration before sinking to the floor himself and gathering the comatose woman in his lap. He rested his head on hers and took comfort from the warm weight of her body as he could only hope she took from his.
What a day.
The decision to bring her into the factory was a spontaneous one. It was a safe quiet environment that would offer succor to her as she pieced her life back together. He just hoped that she would take his offered help with no ill will. He'd contact Spencer and Reggie to as soon as he got back.
The Oompa Loompa had been after him to invite her to the Exodus Ceremony without realizing the vital role she already played. This was just a rotten way to do it. He would tell them to offer her full courtesy and immediate access to him when demanded. No way was he abandoning her during all this.
She started to stir, eyes flying open, but not necessarily registering anything yet. Willy was sympathetic; he'd been knocked for a loop once or twice during various candy mishaps, coming around was rough.
"We're in the Wonkavator heading to my factory. You passed out." He explained gently, using one hand to brush hair away from her face. That stuff seems to get everywhere, he thought to himself.
Veronica was content to sit quiescent in his lap to gather herself for the moment. His voice sounded like it was coming from a closed room down a hallway. "Was it real?" she asked, her voice sounding muffled to her own ears. Strangely, she felt rather liquid and relaxed. The panic and fear were nicely removed and her emotions were detached – like watching a movie about someone else.
"I'm afraid so." He replied, still petting her hair – soothing himself more than her.
"What about our work? We'll have to start all over. I don't know if there will be enough time to finish by the deadline." she offered, her voice flat – dead.
"Don't worry about it for right now. We'll take a closer look tomorrow morning and see if we can salvage anything," he said in a low voice.
"When you call Reggie – do everything you can to make sure he doesn't abandon their holiday. This is my mess, I'll clean it up," she said. Willy protested, but she was insistent.
They said nothing as they approached the behemoth factory lurking in the snowy night and the Wonkavator plunged into a dark opening to rest on rails with a clatter. She watched the factory rooms flash by with an incurious expression.
"I feel emotionally numb," she confessed looking at him with dark glazed eyes.
"That might be the sedative the paramedic gave you," he explained.
She nodded slowly and as they slowed to a stop, they climbed to their feel. She almost swooned again, "Whoa! Whatever they gave me is stronger this time than what they did before."
Willy was confused as he balanced her, "Before?"
She was terribly nonchalant, her eyes glassy, "Yes, after the attack. I got a shot when I was in the hospital."
Willy opened his mouth to ask, but stopped as he realized he would be taking advantage of her while drugged. Nothing good would come of that.
An Oompa Loompa stood at attention as the door opened revealing a corridor of closed doors. "Welcome back Won-Ka."
So this was the true form of Willy's workers. She stared at the tiny man without expression, her natural curiosity taking a blow as much as the rest of her had.
Willy nodded and said, "Ms. Carmichael will be staying with us for a little while, I want her in the Vanilla Cream room for tonight. I need Sherman to be on standby – she's had a bad shock tonight."
The little man bowed and led the way down the corridor to a plain white painted door. Willy guided Veronica through and helped her sit on the soft white duvet on the bed.
The room was almost shades of cream and white, texture rather than color adding decoration. Veronica mused that she used to match the décor before the fire. The dress was now a sooty grey and her skin felt cold and greasy.
Much like her life it seemed.
Willy ushered Neville out and turned to her, "We'll get you tucked in tonight and let you rest. I'll check back in with you tomorrow morning and see if you're interested in having breakfast with the Buckets."
She nodded again – the effort to corral rational speech rapidly escaping her. Willy could see the exhaustion weighing her down. "Bath?" she managed.
"I'll send some assistance to help you. Your balance isn't the best right now and I don't want to falling down and hurting yourself," he came toward her and knelt at her side to meet her eyes at her level.
"I'm sorry the evening ended this way," he whispered. "Things seemed to be going so well."
"I was enjoying myself. It's something I haven't been able to do for a long time. Thank you." she whispered back and placed a feather light kiss on his cheek.
He gave her a sad smile as the door knocked and two Oompa Loompa women entered.
"Oh, goodness! What happened?" asked the leader seeing the condition of the two taller people.
"There was a fire. Ms. Carmichael lost everything. She's my guest here until she feels ready to leave," he said and quickly introduced the women as Monica and Ray-Nil. He leaned down to their level. "Please take care of her tonight, she's had a terrible shock," he said softly, his violet eyes earnest.
"We will. I promise," Monica replied with a motherly pat on the hand.
"Good night Veronica. If you need anything, just ask and I'll be here." He murmured, gently taking her chin and placing a light chaste kiss on her lips.
Then he was gone.
--
"Get me the security team monitoring the building. Have Chief Mic-Ka meet me in the security observation lounge. They're going to tell me what the heck happened tonight," he ordered, stalking down the hall on long legs, Neville running to keep up.
Willy no longer bothered to hide the fury in his eyes. If this was pure accident, he'd eat his hat.
Willy made a quick stop by his office to look up the number for Reginald Carmichael. He quickly called and relayed the situation, assuring the frantic man of his sister's safety.
He tentatively asked the question that had been bothering him, "Veronica mentioned something about an attack in her past. Do you think this is related?"
Reggie sighed, "She mentioned that? Crap. She really is tore up."
"What happened?"
"It's not my place to say. I will tell you that whatever went down tonight had nothing to do with what happened to her in the past. "
Willy set his hat on the desk and ran fingers through his hair in frustration, "How can you be so sure?"
"Because the man who hurt her is dead."
There was silence on both ends for a moment.
"I guess that's final enough," Willy said. "She's going to stay here tonight but I'd like to offer her sanctuary for longer if she wants it. I wanted to have your say-so first as her next-of kin."
"Spencer and I are already at the Airport – you managed to catch us on the cell. We'll head back on the next flight…"
"She insisted that your return wasn't necessary. In fact, I think she wanted me to, and I will quote here, 'do anything and everything within my power to ensure you don't abandon your holiday.' I won't say the rest."
Reggie sighed again, and Willy could feel the man's frustration, "Alright fine. We'll go, but we'll be back early and will call tomorrow morning to talk to her."
"Agreed. Sorry about raining on your parade – congratulations again."
By the time he walked to the small observation room filled with security screens, his temper had been cooled somewhat so he could look at the situation with a level head. He walked inside and noted that the small group came to attention.
"Report." He ordered softly.
"We had an intruder alarm go off at 10:30," started the first security officer, Smi-Li by name. "The Toffee Traps deployed and intruder lost consciousness. We delayed notifying you as we didn't want to disturb you at Ms. Carmichael's event."
Chief Mic-Ka jumped in at that point, "I issued that command, Won-Ka. If there is any blame for not letting you know of the intruder, it lies with me."
Willy waved off the Chief's protestations with one hand and nodded for Smi-Li to continue.
"The intruder regained consciousness at 11:35, we registered a heat signature at 11:55 and immediately called the Police. The intruder must have used the heat to melt the toffee and made his escape. He left the heat source running and the fire started at 12:13. The first officer was on scene when he noted the smoke and called the fire department."
Willy held up his hand and Smi-Li fell into silence.
"Work with Tupik-Ra – I want you to release that information to the detective in charge of the investigation of this fire. If there was toffee and if he melted his way out, there is no chance that he managed to escape without leaving significant hair behind." Willy commanded, his eyes following an invisible train of thought.
Everyone in the room winced and nodded. They'd all been on the wrong end of a toffee explosion.
"On that note, contact hospitals, urgent treatment centers, and all-night medical centers looking for someone with burns and covered in candy. Whoever did this will stick out like a sore thumb."
His eyes glowed with malevolence, "Make no mistake about it, he's going to pay."