When Rachel hung up, she suddenly remembered why her mother had stopped talking to her.
"Rae" called Charlie. "We're going shopping. You want to come?"
"No, that's okay" Rachel managed to utter.
Though her response was troubling, it was now a common occurrence. What had once been a vivacious young woman was now reduced to a depressed shut in. There was no more joy about the immanent arrival.
"Afternoon, everyone" chimed Willy. "What's for lunch?"
"Just soup and sandwiches" said Grandpa George. "We're a little light in the larder, so they went to pick up some supplies."
"Did Rachel go with them?"
"I'm afraid not" Grandpa Joe sighed. "She's still in her room."
His brow furrowed, Mr. Wonka knocked on Rachel's door.
"Guess what, Rae-Rae" he sing-songed. "I made a fresh batch of those chocolate bon bons and I need a taste-tester."
An awkward silence filled the room.
"No thanks. I'm not that hungry" Rachel said.
"But... It's your favorite"
"Maybe later."
"That's her answer for everything now" said Grandma Josephine.
Pouting, Willy sank into the well worn sofa. He was officially at a quandary. She has no appetite and stays home while the family goes out. But worst of all, she refused his candy. Her favorite of all his candies!
"Who was on that phone that got her in such a funk?" he thought aloud to himself.
Willy Wonka... Willy Wonka... The amazing chocolateer...
The welcome song ringtone snapped Mr. Wonka from his train of thought.
"Yeah?" he said into the candy colored cell phone. "What? When? Where? Okay, I'll be right there."
Hanging up, he started banging on Rachel's door.
"Okay, I know you're feeling rotten and all that. But right now, I need you outside."
No answer.
"Listen Rachel, unless you come out right now, you're going to be forced to leave!"
Slowly the door creaked open. Her pupil-less eyes were bleary and bloodshot.
"Okay Willy, you have my attention."
Leading her by the wrist, Willy half dragged the young woman to the Public Relations office. As she experienced in the Inventing Room, Rachel sensed something very unusual about the room. A sort of phoniness that clashed with the rest of the factory. Had her eyes been normal, her intuition would have proved her right. The Public Relations office looked like that of any other place of industry. The bland wall paper. The old magazines that people forced themselves to read. The irritating muzak crackling over a bad sound system.
"Pardon the decor" whispered Willy. "Just to mess with rubes."
Putting down an old Newsweek, an officious looking woman rose to her feet.
"State your business" said Willy. He never liked dealing with beurocrats.
"Mr. Wonka. My name is Carol Askin. Head of the Child Welfare Committee."
"Hey, I told those kids not to--"
"I'm not here about that" said the woman. "It has been brought to my attention that a Miss Rachel Carr has been living here with the Buckett family. Is that correct."
"...Yes... Is there a law against that?"
"No. But she is pregnant. Has she seen medical attention?"
"As a matter of fact, she is being seen by a midwife." Mr. Wonka grinned.
But Askin would not be satisfied.
"May I see this midwife?"
"...No..."
"Why not?"
A thin film of sweat formed on the back of Mr. Wonka's neck.
"She... doesn't like company."
"In that case, Mr. Wonka. I'm ordering Miss Carr see a obstetrician. She will be expected at the Central Hospital tomorrow at noon."
And so it was decided. In order for Rachel to stay in the factory, she needed to venture outside. With Mr. Buckett at work in the Toothpaste Factory, she was accompanied by Mrs. Buckett, Charlie and Grandpa Joe. At the very last minute, Willy Wonka was persuaded to come as well. As he walked down the street, the chocolateer could not believe what he was doing. He hated hospitals! The smells. The prodding. The needles.Under normal circumstances, there was no way of getting him within ten feet of one.
But Rachel needed protecting...
"Oh, so this Rachel. We were told you were coming. Right this way."
An overly friendly obstetrician lead the little party down a long, linoleum covered corridor. The overpowering smell of antiseptic stung Willy's nostrils.
"Oh by the way, Mr. Wonka. Thankyou so much for the donation of chocolate bars to the pediatric ward. The children loved them."
"No problem" Willy said with a nervous giggle. Silently he prayed that whatever what was going to be done would be quick.
Going behind a screen, the woman helped Rachel into a paper gown and situated on the table. Mrs. Buckett was overcome with excitement.
As a nurse ran the probe along Rachel's belly, an image flickered to life on the screen of the ultrasound machine. Mr. Wonka and Charlie squinted at the monitor. To them, the growing fetus looked like nothing more than hazy blob.
"What are we looking at?" asked Willy.
"I know it can be hard to see sometimes" said the obstetrician. "Look. Here's the spine. And here's a little hand."
"That's a Wangdoodle if I ever saw one."
Charlie struggled to stifle a giggle.
The nurse ignored Mr. Wonka's comment and continued pointing out the features of the developing baby. While the rest of the family stood in awe before the monitor, Rachel lay in the dark. For the first time in her life, she genuinely cursed her unworking eyes.
"Miss Carr" asked the nurse. "Would you like to hear your baby?"
"What do you mean?"
"Here."
Gently the obstetrician placed the prongs of a stethoscope in Rachel's ears. For a few seconds she heard nothing. But then it came. A loud, rapid heartbeat flooded her ears. A great smile broke out across her face. In her mind, she could see her baby. Her depression diminishing with each beat.