((Disclaimer: I do not own Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. At all. So there. ))
This current chapter is late due to Beta-waiting. But, I am updating it never-the-less. A fully edited version will be posted on Monday. I hope. Oh, I am going to get the DVD soon, and I won the School's costume contest for the best costume. Guess what? I was Willy Wonka!
Warning, this Fan Fiction may contain Movie Spoilers: If you don't like them watch the movie then come back.
EDIT: This is the Beta'd version of my fic. So, I finally have it up. Plus, I'm going to be getting the special edition double-disk Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Movie today! Yay! dances
Chapter Sixteen Summery – Now, Willy and Charlie are definatally out of the Cookie Tin and into the Confectionary oven, they are getting ready to go on the plane. And, what's this, Willy hasn't packed yet, and they only have a half an hour untill they catch the Limo to the plane? What are they going to do?
Chapter 16 - Up, Up and Away
Willy rushed into his bedroom holding a rather large suitcase while trying to balance a second one on top of it. Upon arrival, Wonka dropped both suitcases on the bed, and each opened up to reveal rather empty insides. Willy knew that it would come to this, he just knew it. But he thought that if he avoided it long enough, the whole matter in question would disappear satisfyingly. Unfortunately for him, it didn't, and Wonka was stuck in a rather sticky predicament.
He had forgotten to pack. It was the late hours of the night, and Willy and Charlie had a plane to catch in four hours (around two o'clock in the morning), and Wonka hadn't even packed. He had at least a half an hour to pack, leave the factory, and get in the limo that was booked for Charlie and himself.
Both he and Charlie, since the plane flight was so early in the morning, had gone to bed very early to catch up on the rest that they would be missing. So, at ten o'clock at night, Willy and Charlie had a full good-night's rest, raring to get on that plane; well, Charlie was at least.
But even though a week beforehand Wonka had known what was going to happen, he still hadn't packed. So there he was, in the middle of the night, dashing around the room trying to get things pulled together.
You'd think after a week of Mrs. Bucket's constant reminders, that Willy would have at least packed one suitcase...
"What-do-I-need? What-do-I-need?" Wonka said hurryingly, looking around the room fervently, trying to see what he needed for the trip.
"Ah!" he exclaimed, dashing over to his dresser, "I need shirts, pants, vests, gloves... the whole lot!"
He shuffled around the drawer, tossing over his shoulder and onto the bed various articles of clothing. Basically, everything he thought he needed for a two week stay in New York.
And Charlie? Well, he was in Wonka's living room, humming to himself as he made sure that he had everything he needed for the trip. Cross-legged on the floor, Charlie was ticking off various things from the checklist, while looking through his small suitcase.
"-And last but not least, my notebook and pencil," he said, grinning, as he slipped the notebook that contained the checklist, into his back pocket along with his pencil. "Well, that's done. I guess we can go once Mr. Wonka has grabbed his bags from his room," he spoke aloud to himself.
Charlie leant back, and looked down the starch-white hall towards Wonka's bedroom, past the slightly open door. "Nearly done, Mr. Wonka? We have to go soon. We need to catch the car to the airport."
"Just a minute Charlie!" came the ringing call of Wonka, from inside the room.
A thump.
A yelp. "Fudged Fiddlesticks!"
What was that? Charlie looked at the room with light confusion and got up. What could Mr. Wonka be up to? Charlie thought. He can't be packing. We have to be ready for the limo that's arriving in several minutes...
Charlie made his way to Wonka's door, and peeked around the corner. "Mr. Wonka?"
Willy was dancing around on the spot waving his left hand around. It seemed as though Wonka had just slammed it in the drawer of his dresser.
"Ow, ow, ow," Willy muttered under his breath while stopping the shaking of his hand. He turned to Charlie, "Oh... hello Charlie."
Charlie looked at Willy's hand with mild concern. "Mr. Wonka, are you-"
Wonka cut him off quickly with a nervous giggle, "I'm fine, Charlie, I just slammed my hand in the drawer. Just a few seconds of pain... that's all." He held up his gloved hand. "See? Better already."
"Good." Charlie grinned for a moment then looked around, seeing that Willy had tons of clothes strewn out on the bed and both suitcases were empty. "What's going on?"
"I- er... uh..." Wonka said nervously, looking around the room, with his hand in his pocket. Charlie could swear he heard Willy whistle innocently.
Then, Charlie realized why Wonka was looking in his drawers in the first place. "You haven't packed yet, have you?" Charlie said while approaching Willy.
Willy put up his finger and breathed in, as if he was going to say something like: 'Yes Charlie, I have... just ignore the fact that I have un-packed suitcases and clothes strewn everywhere...' But, the lame excuse never came; Wonka lowered his finger, looked down and said with a notion of defeat, "No."
Charlie sighed deeply, "Mr. Wonka..."
"I'm sorry," he said in quick defense, looking up with a guilty grin on his face. "I guess I didn't plan well enough."
"It's all right, I guess. Look, we have half an hour to get all of your things packed. Here, I'll help you pack up all of your clothes, and you get everything else you need. Okay Mr. Wonka?" Charlie said, looking up at Willy with a cute smile.
Wonka's heart softened. Charlie was such a nice boy. He was sure, that if it were any other boy, they would have left Willy to his own problems... alone. But Charlie? No. Charlie wouldn't even stop helping Willy even if Wonka asked him to. Which he had. Numerous times. But, he had to admit, when Charlie was around to help him out, things got finished much faster.
There was that strange twist of confusion again as Willy saw Charlie hop up onto Wonka's high bed and start to fold up the messy pants, vests and shirts; he had that same strange question in his mind: Why does Charlie do this for me? That was probably one of the reasons Willy knew that Charlie was different from other boys, it was Charlie's instant trying to help Wonka whenever Willy needed help, verbally or nonverbally; Charlie's constant trying to make sure things were all right...
But why? It just made no gosh-darned sense...
A "Mr. Wonka," from Charlie broke Wonka's thoughts.
Willy looked up, "Uh, yeah?"
"We've got to hurry up," Charlie said.
Willy looked around and remembered the deadline that he had to fill in the half-hour. He jumped and suddenly dashed out of the room, only stopping for a moment to say to Charlie, "Good idea!"
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Wonka hauled the last of the suitcases near the outside gates of the factory, in a small way to prove to everyone that even with a broken arm, he could handle the task. The air was still frigid for late April, but that was usual for the town that the Factory resided in. There was always a feeling of cold or snow in the air, even though it was spring. At least, in the summer, it would warm up, and snow would become a rarity once again.
It was dismally dark and the only glint of light came from the glimmer off the tightly compacted, like ice, snow on the ground and the large lights that lit up the front courtyard of the massive factory. Even then, Wonka wore his large goggle-like sunglasses.
"Willy, dear," said Mrs. Bucket as she approached Willy, a paper bag in one hand, "why are you wearing sunglasses? It's ten thirty at night!"
"I dunno, I just like to wear them..." Willy responded with his grin, as he turned to count all of the luggage.
Wonka knew exactly why he wore his sunglasses, no matter what time of day it was. He always did, even before he opened his first shop on Cherry Street, no matter what, Willy always wore them, even at night. At first, it was because of the snow and sun. There was either such an abundance of sun that you needed glasses, or there was so much snow reflecting the sun that it would be dangerous not to. So, nearly all year long during the day, Wonka wore sunglasses.
But soon, once his popularity sprang up from a couple of friends to more than ten strangers, he wore them as a sort of a security device. He felt that they seemed to cover up who he was, and make the world none-the-wiser of the fact that it was Willy. He hated crowds, and he felt, that if he covered his face up, even a teensy bit, that maybe they wouldn't know or recognize who he was.
"I hope you took no offence, Willy," Mrs. Bucket said sincerely. "I was just curious."
"None taken! I suppose it does look weird. I am wearing sunglasses at night." Willy giggled cheerfully at the thought. "Seven! All seven of the suitcases are there."
Mrs. Bucket nodded and looked at the seven suitcases on the ground, counting them mentally, noting that only two happened to be Charlie's. "That's good."
"Why don't you go talk to Charlie while I open the gates, kay?" Wonka said with a smile.
"All right, Willy dear," Mrs. Bucket said with a smile before walking off towards Charlie.
Wonka watched her walk away with a strange forced smile on his face till he turned around abruptly, face falling, to open the gates.
Talking with Charlie by the edge of the factory gates as Willy opened them were Mr. and Mrs. Bucket and Grandpa Joe, all of whom were currently keeping Charlie close company, until he had to part for the next two or more weeks.
"Make sure you don't have mud on your pants," Grandpa Joe advised. "You'll make a better impression on TV that way."
"Yes, Charlie dear, and keep out of trouble," added Mrs. Bucket.
"-and try to not bother Mr. Wonka too much. All right, Charlie?" finished Mr. Bucket with a smile and a reassuring hand against Charlie's shoulder.
"Yes Mum, yes Dad, yes Grandpa Joe," Charlie said obediently, with an ever-so-slight shiver in the cold; never the less, Charlie gave a great grin.
"That's a good lad."
"Thank you, Charlie dear."
"Always doing the right thing."
Wonka called out from the distance; holding his left hand to amplify his voice, obviously done opening the gates. "Charlie! We must get going, the limo has arrived!"
Charlie gave a grin, then a sigh. He grabbed onto his mother's waist and gave her a great big hug. "Bye Mum. I'll miss you."
"Bye, Charlie dearest," she hugged him back and planted a kiss on his cheek. "I'll miss you too. But I bet you'll have lots of fun with Mr. Wonka in New York. Just focus on having fun and not on missing us."
"I promise," Charlie said with a grin towards his mother.
"Come here, Charlie," Grandpa Joe said, opening his arms so the small boy could hug him.
Charlie obliged and was pulled into a hug by his grandfather. "I'll miss you, but you have fun, eh? I bet you will!"
"Bye Grandpa Joe, I'll miss you too," Charlie said around the hug. As he pulled away, he added, "Tell Grandma Georgina, Grandpa George, and Grandma Josephine that I say bye, okay?"
"You can count on me!" Grandpa Joe finished with a silly salute and a warm grin.
"Bye Dad," Charlie said as he hugged his father. "I will miss you."
"Good bye Charlie. Have fun, and be sure that when you come back, you have plenty of stories to tell."
Charlie pulled away and smiled. "Don't worry, I will."
"That's my Charlie," Mr. Bucket said fondly, ruffling up Charlie's hair.
Grandpa Joe looked over. "I think you have to go, you don't want to keep Mr. Wonka waiting!"
Charlie was just about to turn and leave when his mother stopped him, and put the paper bag she was holding in his hand. "Here, Charlie," she said with a whisper in his ear. "These are some treats I made for you and Willy. It's for the trip there. It's best you eat them when you get hungry. Okay?"
A wide grin spread over Charlie's face. "Thanks, Mum! Bye!"
"Bye Dear!"
"Bye Charlie!"
"Goodbye!"
Charlie dashed up and saw the gate was opened and all of the suitcases but two were in the trunk of the limo. He grabbed his small suitcase and looked up at Willy expectantly.
Wonka smiled back and grabbed his own suitcase of knickknacks. "Well, ready to go?"
Charlie nodded numbly and they walked just outside the gates, stopping a mere ten yards away from the limo. Both of them continued to look away from the gates as they screeched shut behind them, and closed with an echoing metallic thud that seemed to ring out around the massive walls of the factory ominously.
Wonka breathed out heavily, a thick mist of icy breath formed in front of him. "Well," he said after a few seconds, "let's go."
--------------------------
They had been in the limo for nearly two and a half hours, and even though they were fully rested, Wonka and Charlie were already starting to feel slightly sleepy due to the long traveling and sitting session. Though during the whole of the trip, Wonka and Charlie had been talking animatedly about various candy ideas and things that are in the factory.
"So... there is a rubber forest in my factory," said Wonka in a matter-o-fact tone.
Charlie looked at him dumbfounded. "A rubber forest?"
"Yea, it's kind of like the Chocolate room, though much smaller. The whole thing is made of various gummy treats; all of the trees even! And, for more tropical flavors, I have a connecting room that is called the elastic jungle."
And that was basically how the conversation continued for the hours that passed by.
Charlie had realized why Willy decided to pick a limo to travel in, rather than a taxi. At first, he thought it was typical for a person as rich as Wonka to rent a limo to get rides in. But once they entered it, was obvious why Willy had chosen it. It was not because Willy was rich; it was not because he thought so high of himself that he deserved a fancy limo. It was because of the great amount of personal privacy. Charlie realized that you could cut off the driver with a window so he couldn't see or hear you, and the only time he could talk was when he talked over the radio, and the only time he would talk was when he was accounting when an hour had passed, or when they would have arrived.
At that exact moment, both Charlie and Wonka were silent. Each of them leaning against the side of limo, faces lightly pressed against the window. Charlie was watching the fields pass by in the complete darkness, being lit only by the high beams of the limo lights. Without them, Charlie would have been staring into a seemingly nothingness.
His mind was toiling about the week before the last, and even the one he just experienced. So much had happened, and most of them were not good things. Charlie was truthfully getting very worried about his new companion, and he had no idea of what he could do for him. His mind kept of flicking back to when Willy broke his arm, when Wonka had a flash fever, when he experienced a horrific nightmare about leaving a factory, when Willy had the hysterical flash-back breakdown, and even when Wonka was trying to do something good, but rendered himself unconscious do to the pressure of too many Oompa-Loompa's.
He was trying to find a pattern; he was trying to figure out what was making everything happen. He was starting to dearly hope that not every week of his life in the factory would be as exciting as that one. At least, not exciting in a bad way.
Not that everything that happened was bad. No, in fact, many things that had happened were good... mostly they were gifts to himself by Willy Wonka. The un-expected late birthday presents of a pocket watch and a complete new wardrobe. Willy specially making him a new kind of Gobstopper, fitting especially to Charlie's tastes. Best of all, Wonka giving him his very own Sugar Sheep, Lily.
He sighed. Everything had to do with Willy; nothing that happened, whether good or bad, had nothing to do with the Chocolatier. He supposed that it was Wonka's factory after all. But, why did Willy always seem so... involved?
Charlie looked over to the side of the limo that had Willy, who had been quiet for the past several minutes, leaning against the window. Wonka's eyes were closed, but he was obviously not asleep. Charlie knew that he was fully conscious. Probably from the fact that Willy's eyebrows were furrowed in mild concentration and he seemed to be mouthing thoughts and he sat there; only every so often did a word slip from his lips, barely audible unless one wanted to hear.
Charlie breathed out, then leaned against the window again, looking back into the grassy abyss.
A flickering light in the high distance caught Charlie's eye and he followed it till it seemed to be growing closer. He realized, through the solid white glint and ever-flickering red, that it was an airplane that was starting to tear overhead, towards an airport. Soon, the sound of it rang overhead, in what sounded like tearing the sky itself.
"Most inefficient," Willy suddenly said, startling Charlie.
"What?"
"The airplane," Willy opened his eyes to look at Charlie. "It is most inefficient. Much too noisy."
"That's just the way they are, Mr. Wonka."
"Well... they should make them quieter, " Wonka continued. "Take my elevator for example. The only noise it makes is when the jets are starting. But can you hear it after that?"
Charlie shook his head.
"Exactly."
Charlie just grinned, but he had to agree with his friend. The airplanes were rather noisy and inefficient compared to the Great Glass Elevator. The thought of why they didn't use the Elevator in the first place came to Charlie's mind with slight ringing confusion.
-Excuse me, Mr. Wonka and Mr. Bucket,- said the driver over the in-car speakers. Charlie jumped at being referred as 'Mr. Bucket.' -We had arrived at the airport, and I am currently finding a parking space for you.-
"Uhh... thank you," Willy said, pressing a button that was on the side of the door.
-You're welcome sir. Oh, I have seen the amount of suitcases that you have placed in the back; you do have a lot of baggage sir. I will be helping you bring them to the airport and drop them off at the Luggage Drop.-
"Thank you...?" Wonka said nervously, smiling in such a way that showed he really didn't know whether to reject it or not.
Charlie giggled; the look on Wonka's face was rather priceless. He supposed it was because a random stranger was offering to help him out for no 'apparent' reason. The driver also chuckled over the speakers.
Only a few seconds later, the limo stopped and the driver left it. Willy's door opened first, and the driver stood there, beckoning for Wonka to leave with an open hand.
"You first, sir," the driver said with a grin.
"Er... Kay." Willy scrambled to place his goggles back on and he gave a grin before stepping out of the vehicle.
"Now you, Mr. Bucket," the driver said, stooping lower to face Charlie on the other side of the limo
Charlie grinned and scrambled over the black leather seats, squeaking as he did so, and got out, standing beside Wonka.
"I shall go fetch a luggage rack, I will be right back, sirs," the driver said, before wheeling around to grab a 'luggage rack' to lighten the load.
Charlie was looking around, fascinated. He never really left the town that he lived in, and any time he did, it wasn't too particularly different from were he left. To see so many people at once was startling. He glanced up and around with a fascinated look on his face, in awe of its difference. He couldn't wait to see New York, and how many people it had.
Wonka, though, was looking at the matter entirely differently. He shoved his left hand in his pocket, and if he could have, his right would have matched his left. He breathed out sharply, the cool air forming a mist in front of his face. He looked down and started to fidget, thinking to himself sharply about were he was. He definitely could wait to see New York...
Willy and Charlie were very similar in more than one way. One of them was the fact that Charlie and Wonka both grew up in the same town, and both Charlie and Wonka never really left it. Though, each of them had entirely different ideas of where they wanted to be at that exact moment, no matter how similar they were.
Behind them, they heard the loud clattering of light metal, and both of them whipped around to see the driver come up with a cart that could hold all of their baggage.
"Sorry it took so long," the driver said. "Had a bit of a run-in with another person and had to wait till another one came by."
The man stopped the cart and walked over to the limo, popping the trunk. He started by pulling out the largest suitcases of the whole lot. Charlie saw this and he walked over quickly to grab something from the trunk as well, wishing to relive the man from the onslaught of suitcases that there seemed to be.
"No, no, lad," the driver chuckled. "You don't need to help me. I can handle it."
Charlie looked at him defiantly. "But I want to help."
"All right," he grinned. "You can help."
Willy then decided to follow suit, but the moment his hand reached to grab one of the large ones, he was stopped by both the driver and Charlie.
"No, you don't."
"You have a broken arm, Mr. Wonka."
"Yes, very delicate sir."
"Don't worry, the driver and I can handle it."
"Yes, yes, the young lad and I have it all under control."
Wonka stood still for a moment, then withdrew his arm, looking at them oddly. He then turned his head slightly and made an "hmpf," sound, looking at them out of the corner of his eye.
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Willy and Charlie were now sitting on their flight that was on a direct path to New York, no stops. And getting on the actual plane was rather uneventful. All of the luggage had been loaded into the luggage-hold-thingy of the plane, and the only things that Wonka and Charlie took onto the plane were there small personal suitcases.
The AMERICA TODAY company had booked them on a first-class flight, and, like Willy asked, they were actually fairly private from the other passengers. Willy and Charlie sat side-by-side, with Charlie situated by the window and Wonka by the isle.
One thing that surprised Charlie the most was the fact that nobody seemed to recognize Willy for who he was, other than the personnel. It could of been the fact he had been wearing goggle-sunglasses, it could of been the fact that he was looking down whenever he was spoken to or glanced at, or the large coat he wore over that covered almost everything about him. But Charlie was mostly sure that it was the fact that mostly everyone had really forgotten what Wonka looked like in the first place. Well, he had been dubbed "missing in his own factory" for over ten years and the only pictures anyone had of him were blurred ones or just shots of his back turned from the camera. Wonka's face, though as famous as he was, was forgotten in the sea of time.
Even though Willy had not yet brought much attention to himself, (though Charlie was sure he would have by that point,) he still looked around the plane warily, gripping one of the arm-rests with his gloved hand, anticipating for someone unknown to him to approach and talk to him. Wonka just hoped that the plane would start already and get the whole trip over with, so he wouldn't have to deal staying on the plane with so many strangers at one time.
Charlie glanced over at Willy and saw the tension rising through Wonka's rigid form. The least he could do was turn Wonka's mind away from being stared at. So he turned to his companion and said, "Mr. Wonka, have you ever flown on a airplane before?"
"Eh.. what?" Wonka asked, turning his head towards Charlie almost reluctantly. "Sorry, Charlie, what did you say?"
"I said, have you even flown on an airplane before, Mr. Wonka?" Charlie repeated.
"Oh yes. Loads of times."
"When, and where did you go?" Charlie continued urging for Wonka to continue.
"Let's see," Willy tapped his finger to his chin as he thought. "Hmm. Well, I went once when I had to go to India. I have also been to Switzerland and Bavaria, the candy capitals of the world. Oh, of course, I went to some island by a personal plane, and found Loompa-Land." Willy sighed. "But that was all before I closed down the factory, except the Oompa-Loompas of course."
"You haven't been on one since?"
"Nope," Willy looked up as if he was remembering something. "And I am rather glad that I haven't. I really do hate traveling by plane. The whole business makes me nervous. I just don't feel safe in something that I haven't seen the blueprints for."
"Blueprints?" Charlie looked at Willy, confused. "What do you mean?"
"You see, I have been designing things my whole life, and the only things I really trust are the things that I know what makes them tick. I can tell if something could go wrong, would go wrong, or never go wrong. I just feel safer to know how well they designed these things."
"So that's why you trust the Great Glass Elevator so much," Charlie figured out loud, "because you designed it, so you know what flaws it has, if any."
"Yea," Wonka looked around, "and by the looks of this plane, if they can't make a machine like this as quiet as I could make the Elevator, then I wouldn't hold much regards for safety in this thing."
"Well this plane is considerably bigger than the Great Glass Elevator and-"
Willy interrupted. "And? I could make this work as quietly and much safer than it is now. It is possible, it's just those air-engineers, they haven't yet seen the most obvious and efficient way of making flying things. It's all so obvious."
"Then why don't you help them?"
Wonka looked down at Charlie with some amount of disgust in his face. "Why would I? I'm a candy-maker, not a air-engineer."
Charlie chuckled. "Just asking, Mr. Wonka."
"Hmpf."
-Good evening passengers of flight 486, would you please fasten your seat-belts, the plane is getting ready to take off,- said the pilot over the speakers.
Wonka gulped. "I always hate this part... makes your ears pop."
Charlie grinned back, "Dad always told me that if you chew gum, your ears won't pop as much."
Willy's face wrinkled in disgust. "Ew."
Authors Thoughts – This was fun to write. But, I really can't wait till the next chapter. Oh, and I'll at least -try- to get Chapter 17 updated before CatCF comes out on Dvd... :)
Wonka-Land Info – I allways seem to have somthing to type here, don't I?
Limo? Why did he take it?- No, he's not prissy and enjoys to flash his supposed Billions of Dollers infront of thier faces. He really likes the privacy, and I really can't see him driving...
What did they bring? - I dunno... read!
Flight 486 - Oooh! If you can find out what this stands for (the flight #) then I'll give you some Wonka Chocolates!
Why didn't they take the Elevator? - Willy will explain it to Charlie later.
Chapter Seventeen Preview – Willy and Charlie are now at very high altitudes, and have to suffer through a Seven Hour long flight to New York's main airport. What hectics could happen? Will Willy survive? And why does he hate Bubblegum so much?
About the Reviews – Merci pour les reviews mes amies!
My Beta-Reader – Has gotten it back to me. Yay! I thank her so much (and you should too.)
Important Note: Please Review. I want to know if any of you liked it. Plus, I may feel like updating faster if I know that people actually read what I write. (No flames... I'll only feed them to Gloop, although, I don't think even he likes flames. I think I'll dip them into Chocolate first.).