I do not own anything from Charlie and the Chocolate factory. All rights and likenesses belong to Roald Dahl, Johnny Depp and Tim Burton. No profit is being garnered from this work. Continuing with our series of questions from interested readers, CatLvr445 asks: Was it hard transitioning between LoompaLand and Mr. Wonka's factory? Tupik-Ra replies: When initially confronted with technology – we simply accepted it as magic and thus controllable. The real problem was dealing with junk food – especially Cheetos. Those things are massively addicting! Thanks to a rigorous work ethic and good dietician we're not packing on the pounds anymore. – Stealth Phoenix
Chapter 27
Willy panicked when Veronica went limp in his arms. "Veronica! Hey! Wake-up!" he shouted, jostling her gently hoping she would just awaken. Her head lolled back and he could see the whites of her eyes.
Using one foot to jerk open the door, he rushed into the hallway, looking for one of his workers that lurked nearby. They had been keeping watch on the studio by Mic-Ka's directive.
Exasperated, he juggled the unconscious woman who seemed to have gained a miraculous 20 lbs and glanced around corners.
Naturally, when he wanted to be alone, the little boogers were everywhere - when he actually needed someone they were nowhere to be found.
He turned around and started striding toward the Wonkavator. There was a yelp and Willy suddenly impacted with a small weight at knee height. Staggering, he nearly dropped Veronica and yelped with alarm. "Hey! Oh – sorry. You alright?"
Nei-Vil sat up and rubbed his head. He'd bounced off Won-Ka's knee and his ears rang from the impact. "Nothing a couple of cocoa beans couldn't fix. What is the matter with Ver-Oni-Ka?"
"She collapsed. I'll take her down to her room, but I need you to go grab Sherman and Devon for me, 'kay? I'll meet them down there. Oh! Also grab Moni-Ka and Ray-Nel to assist – go!" Willy ordered.
He settled Veronica a little more carefully, resting her head on his shoulder and took off. His arms were screaming with red hot heat by the time he reached the Wonkavator and managed to press the button that took them back to her room.
Slumping down to the floor to cradle her in his lap while the Wonkavator was in motion, he carefully checked her pulse and breathing. She felt warm under his bare hand but her pulse was strong and steady, breaths of soft air puffed from her nose in a steady interval. Panic calmed, he bludgeoned his whirling mind to consider what made her pass out.
She's been working non-stop for almost a week – why the hell else do you think she went down? Bob growled.
She seemed pretty stressed before she told me about what had happened to her, I was thinking it might have something to do with that.
More likely a combination of the both – at least it didn't happen until after you told her you love her.
You don't think that's why she passed out do you?
I don't know - who can read any woman's mind? I'm just a figment of your imagnation, complained Bob.
Contemplating further, he absent-mindedly pulled another set of gloves from his pocket to slip over his hands.
The Wonkavator seemed to understand its master's urgency for it seemed to take far less time than usual to arrive at her room. It slowed to a stop and Willy could see the gathering crowd of Oompa Loompas and Charlie outside the glass doors.
The doors slid open and Devon – the Oompa Loompa physician and healer darted in to check Veronica as she draped over Willy's lap.
"What happened? Is she alright?" Charlie asked, his voice wavering between boyish soprano and manly tenor in his distress.
"Ver-Oni-Ka seems to be stable. I will examine her further once we get her into bed," Devon decided, he motioned and the team of workers smoothly transitioned her from Willy's arms to the bed with nary a jostle or hiccup. It was amazing how the small people cooperated to lift the much taller woman without dropping her or crushing anyone in the process.
"She's been working too hard, Charlie. But I think things will be alright now." Willy said, accepting Charlie's hand to help haul him to his feet.
Inside the room, Devon was just completing his initial examination with a stethoscope and used a pen light to check her pupil response. Frowning slightly, he put the tools away in a small classic black bag and took out a handful of green pointed leaves. He waved the bunch of leaves over her chest humming under his breath with a look of intense concentration on his face before dropping them to study the pattern of where they landed.
"What's up Doc?" Willy asked, straightening his cuffs and watching anxiously.
"Great pressure lifted, extreme relief followed…," Devon said slowly. "Looks like a classic case of exhaustion tempered by some sort of catharsis." The small man, dressed in the classic white coat cut down to his diminutive size looked toward the psychiatrist. "Sher-Man-Ra?"
Sherman nodded and shot a knowing look at Willy, "She told you then?"
Willy simply nodded, not wishing to say more in front of the crowd.
Sherman shook his head and replied to the Doctor, "She was already in a weakened condition and additional emotional stress was too much."
Devon nodded his agreement and turned to the taller man,"She's sleeping deeply right now and probably will through tonight and into tomorrow. I'll set her up with an IV to get some nutrients into her system to try and cushion the shock."
"Nothing permanent then? Good. Monica, Ray-Nel? Please stay with her tonight in case she wakes. Nei-Vil? Shut off access to her studio – I don't want to let her back in there unless Charlie or myself is available to go with her. She'll be mad, but ultimately, I think she'll understand," he was surprised at the cheers and smiles that broke out on the Oompa Loompas faces. He'd never known how popular she was with his workers – or how worried they also were about her.
"Devon, do whatever you think necessary to ensure she gets the rest she needs, I also think giving her about 10cc's of Wonka-Vite in the IV solution might help as well," Willy's words came fast and the small people crossed their arms and bowed quickly before leaping into action.
He turned to Charlie with a forced smile, "There's nothing we can really do for her right now other than making sure she rests. Why don't you go home? Tell your mother I won't be able to join you this evening for dinner and I'll talk to you tomorrow, 'kay?"
Charlie could tell that he'd taken a bad shock and was still worried, but allowed himself to be shooed away without fuss. He'd let his family know about what was going on and find a way to cheer Willy up in the process.
"Ms. Carmichael will be fine, Willy. You'll see," he said, startling the man with a quick hug before bolting off.
Jittery because of the unaccustomed contact, collapsing women and deep emotional upheaval, he turned to Sherman with some degree of desperation, "Sherman, do you have a few minutes for me?"
Sherman nodded, and Willy followed the shaman out of Veronica's room, allowing his workers to care for her until she recovered.
They walked slowly down the halls, taking the long way to allow Willy the chance to regain his composure. As they entered Sherman's office, the Oompa Loompa prepared the special tea for his taller friend without being asked. Willy shed the purple coat and hat, and slipped on his black dressing gown before reclining back on the couch and throwing one arm over his eyes.
Sherman pressed the mug into his empty hand and Willy took a sip without looking. He rolled the rich flavor on his tongue for a moment before swallowing, feeling the heat flow all the way down to splash into his stomach.
"Is this the McClellan's?" Willy asked hoarsely? There was more than just tea in that cup…
"Yes. I figured that you needed the alcohol after the revelations you'd just had." Sherman said, unapologetic. He poured a thimble-full of the powerful scotch for himself and took his traditional seat in the wingback chair next to the chaise lounge where Willy sprawled.
"When did she tell you?" Willy asked.
"About a week and a half ago – before you headed down to the police station. It was something she'd been working on for a while. I know she wished to tell you sooner," Sherman admitted.
The men sipped their drinks for a moment, sharing a companionable silence.
"How has she been managing to live with such a burden on her mind?" Willy finally asked, the anguish apparent in his voice.
Bob was growling in the back of his skull – no one harmed his mate!
"It's not a matter of managing to live – it's a matter of surviving. Surviving is always better than the alternative. She chose to survive that encounter and makes the same decision every day. It something she's made her peace with even as she struggles with the effects." Sherman corrected, taking a moment to share his own frustrations. "I believe what Ver-Oni-Ka's problem is, is that she's been surviving too long and not bothering to move beyond that to actual living. She cut off a large part of herself to allow her the peace of mind to function on a day to day basis..."
Sherman stopped, looking embarrassed. "I'm sorry Won-Ka, I have already said too much. This is something that should remain in patient/doctor confidentiality so I cannot discuss much more."
Willy made a noncommittal noise and swallowed a mouth full of the laced tea, feeling the alcohol burn pleasantly on his gums.
"I'm not sure how to feel. I mean I'm angry with the man who put her through so much," Willy admitted, glowering darkly. "It's a good thing he's already dead or he soon would be by my hands." Willy had the vivid mental image of wrapping his hands around Marcus's throat - he imagined Marcus to be a sniveling weedy little man – the kind of man to pick the wings off flies as a kid to show his superiority. He could see the man's eyes bulging as Willy squeezed the life out of him, furious for hurting the woman he loved – even if it did happen long before they met.
Kill! Bob snarled
Coming back to himself, he continued.
"But, I also feel sympathy for her as well. I want to hold her and protect her from the world and its troubles," Willy said, moving his arm up to rest across his forehead to stare at the ceiling, mug resting comfortably on his chest. He remembered the warmth shared between the two of them as he rocked Veronica, shaken after her panic attack. How he had wished there was something more he could do.
"I told her how I feel about her, but I'm not really sure how she feels about me. It seemed like she was expecting me to toss her out or something," Willy said miserably.
Sherman nodded, "What did she say when you told her how you felt?"
"Veronica wasn't able to say much of anything. She had a panic attack and didn't get the chance," Willy said, changing the order of events slightly to protect their secret. She'd given up so much to make it happen, the last thing he wanted to do was ruin it now when they were so close...
"Did she try to push you away?"
"No, she curled up on my lap, shaking and crying uncontrollably. She grabbed onto the lapels of my jacket and wouldn't let go."
Willy's face dawned with sudden comprehension. "She wanted me. Veronica said before the she didn't want the Chocolatier, or one of the wealthiest men in the world – she wanted me, as I am."
Sherman nodded, hiding his rising excitement behind a blank façade, "When you confessed your feelings, what exactly did you tell her?"
Willy blushed and swallowed the rest of his tea. Saying it once was hard enough – why did it matter what everyone else thought? "Could I get a refill? That was really good…"
"Won-ka?" Sherman asked sternly, knowing that he was trying to evade the question.
Willy recovered his eyes with his arm and fought down the blush that threatened his cheeks. "What's the big deal. It's private stuff."
"But also important to the conversation. Are you ashamed of expressing yourself?"
"No – but its something special between us – sacred - and I don't feel comfortable sharing it with anyone else."
"I have a feeling I know what you said, but you just need to admit it to yourself." Sherman pressed. "Come Won-Ka, three little words need not alarm you. Especially after the bravery Ver-Oni-Ka has shown this evening sharing her darkest secret with you. Honor her with the same bravery."
Willy sighed exasperated; he slammed down his arm and glared at the smaller man, "Fine. I told Veronica that I love her. Happy? Satisfied?"
But does she love me back? Willy thought miserably.
Sherman took a sip of his drink, shaking his head, "It was not for my sake that you said those words, it was your own. The hornswaggler is out of the trap – no putting it back inside."
Willy sighed again, looking at the empty cup, "I guess. Is this what love is? This constant worry? That hollow feeling when she's out of your eyesight, wondering what's on her mind? Wondering if she's going to leave forever and leaving you to face the darkness without her light?"
Sherman carefully hid his grin. Won-Ka had it bad.
"To a degree. There is also great joy of being with her in the long happy days ahead. There is the wonderful feeling waking next to your woman in the morning and the first thing you see is her smile. There is the joy of sharing moments with each other – moments that can never be recaptured, only cherished in memory for the rest of your life," Sherman said, thinking fondly of his own wife.
Willy was silent as he digested these matters. Sherman was patient – Won-ka had been a client and friend for many years and his mind would quickly come to the right conclusions. It was just important to do so before the Exodus Ceremony where a clear mind and heart was critical to the ceremonies performed on that day.
"What can I do to help her?" he asked finally.
Sherman grinned proudly – Wonka was more like a son to him than he would ever admit, even to Mic-Ka.
"Just as before. Let her set the pace – it is her comfort level that needs to expand. She trusts you – clinging to you in her most dire emotional distress is a clear enough sign of this. Build on that trust and have faith that she will tell you of her own heart in short order."
Sherman finished the scotch and got up to cross over to the taller man. He placed a small hand over the one draped over Willy's chest, "Keep loving her and stay true to telling her as frequently as you can. It is the best advice I can give you."
He patted the taller man's hand and left to leave Willy to his thoughts.
--
Veronica opened her eyes slowly. Her body was screaming at her for more sleep, but there was something important she had to do first. Seeing the ivory on cream swirl ceiling of her room, she realized that she must have passed out on Willy.
Rolling her head to one side, she saw the small concerned faces of Monica and Raynel looking back at her. "How long was I out?" she asked, her throat terribly dry.
Monica handed her a glass of water. Veronica started roll over onto her side to take it and was stopped by a sharp sting on the back of her hand. She followed the sensation and saw an IV dripping clear liquid into her vein. She carefully pulled herself into a reclined position and took the glass with her free hand, sipping slowly.
"Why do I have an IV?" Veronica asked slowly, her thoughts muddled.
"You passed out in your studio. Won-Ka brought you back here. Our healer Dev-On said that this would help you recover lost nutrients," Monica said calmly.
Veronica started to pick absent-mindedly at the tape affixing the IV to her hand and Monica slapped at her hand, "Stop that!"
Raynel was younger than her counterpart and giggled at the affronted expression on the taller woman's face.
"You need to get more sleep," Monica said in a maternal tone of voice and pushed Veronica gently down.
"I will. Would it be possible for me to get cleaned up first?" she asked plaintively. "I would rest easier if I took a quick shower."
Monica and Raynel exchanged a look. "Please?" Veronica asked, attempting to use Puppy Eyes™ for the first time in more than two decades.
Apparently she still had it because Monica relented, "Okay – but it'll be a bath and we'll do all the work. I just want you to lay there and do nothing."
Veronica nodded. Now that she was aware of what her body was doing, she cringed at her own scent. Anything to get clean at this point!
While Ray-Nel bustled off to run the bathwater, Veronica looked to Monica quietly and asked, "How's Willy?"
"You scared him, child. He's frantically worried about you," the older woman scolded, helping Veronica take off her clothes around the long tube of the IV still attached to her hand.
"I'm sorry – I really don't mean to be a bother. I worry about him too," she confessed, allowing herself to passively be undressed.
Monica clucked her tongue at the unhealthy loss of weight apparent in the protruding knobs of her spine and ribs. "Why do you insist on trying to take up less space in the world than you deserve? No one is going to begrudge you simple human needs."
Veronica had nothing to say to this. When Ray-Nel came out and indicated that the bath was ready, she took slow steady steps into the bathroom and climbed carefully into the tub. She felt cold and shaky. The IV fluid seemed to be dripping liquid ice into her veins and Monica carried the bag to hang on the rolling pole next to the tub. Veronica briefly excused herself to use the toilet and then slipped gratefully into the warm water.
The two women went to work, shampooing her hair with strong fingers – almost making her groan with appreciation. The rough texture of the scrub brush felt wonderful on her limbs and back. She felt a moment's embarrassment when they scrubbed her toast rack chest and wobbling breasts, but the matter-of-fact way they went about their business soothed her.
The urgency that had awoken her had faded into a nagging feeling that she was forgetting something massively important. Willy's face floated before her eyes, beautiful eyes earnest, pleading…
Ray-Nel had run the water hot, and the initial sting had faded. The warmth sunk into her bones and turned her muscles into putty. Her arms and legs still trembled with exhaustion and she fought to keep her eyes open long enough to finish her bath.
Monica clucked again as she saw Veronica's eyes sagging, "Clean enough for now. Stand up – easy now."
Veronica swayed on her feet and grabbed the hand rail for balance. The dizziness faded and she carefully stepped from the tub. With amazing cooperative movements, Ray-Nel climbed onto Monica's shoulders to wrap a warmed towel around her body. Indicating that she should return to the bedroom, Veronica complied – eyes drooping even as she walked.
Willy was saying something…something that made her heart soar with joy even as her body was too weak to show it…what had he said?
She sat on the bed and the Oompa Loompas towel dried her hair and started working through it with a wide-toothed comb. Was her hair longer than normal? Veronica wondered sleepily.
She yawned as Monica's clever fingers wove the wild mass into a simple plait and tied it off with one of her rubber bands.
"Lie down," Monica commanded. She was helpless to disagree.
"Veronica….I…I love you. Nothing you have said this evening will ever change that…," Willy's voice drifted through her memory through the pain and loss, a precious beacon,"
Veronica realized what she had forgotten.
"I need to tell Willy something important," Veronica insisted, even as her treacherous eyes drifted shut."
"You can tell him yourself after you get some sleep. Nothing is that important," Monica said soothingly, pulling the covers up over the exhausted woman.
"No – it is…" she whispered. "I need to tell Willy…"
…I love him."
She fell asleep.