A/N: Hello everyone! Midterms are over, so I'm celebrating by writing this for y'all. Yeah, I'm not exactly social enough to do something for Spring Break, so here I am. Anyways, I'm sure this one is going to be as long as or even longer than the last one, but I'm not going to separate it into 2 parts. It looked longer on word than it did on the site, so yeah… Thanks to everyone who reviewed and even those who just read or added to favs or alerts, it's very much appreciated.
Disclaimer: I do not own Charlie and The Chocolate Factory. I don't even own a pink, barbarian style, seahorse boat. That's probably a good thing though since I get seasick and I hate pink.
Gumdrops Falling From a Cotton Candy Sky
By Aina Riddle
Chapter Five: Spinning
I follow along behind Willy, forcing myself to not think about Augustus or his mother. I can't do anything now, but at least they're getting help. My eyes wander along the grass and towards the river as I absentmindedly nibble on my rose, my mother silent beside me. A rhythmic humming fills the air as we stop at the riverbank and I look toward the source to see a large, barbarian style boat in the shape of a pink seahorse making its way towards us.
The boat glides through the chocolate with the metal oars slicing through the viscous liquid silently, the Oompa-Loompas rowing it wearing blue and humming in beat with the drum. It stops before us and I let out a small laugh when they start giggling, because laughter is contagious and they have funny giggles. My smile remains on my face, the previous events forgotten for now, as Violet asks a question.
"What's so funny?"
"I'm wondering that too," My mom says to herself beside me and I shrug.
"Maybe it's because they love cocoa beans and their job is to travel through a chocolate river? It is made from cocoa beans after all," I reply, but it's really only a guess. My voice carries a bit more than my mom's and Violet glares at me, taking my words as sarcasm. I really wasn't trying to be sarcastic, I was just speculating what the answer could be, but she can take it that way if she wants to.
"I think it's from all those doggone cocoa beans," Willy says, leaning forward and breaking Violet's glare towards me; I'm not sure if the action was meant to do that or not. "Hey, by the way, did you guys know that chocolate contains a property that triggers the release of endorphins? Gives one the feeling of being in love." He giggles after he says this and I look at the rose in my hand silently for a moment before giving it to my mom after taking one last petal (because it's really good).
"You can have the rest," I whisper, placing the rose in her hands. I glance at the chocolatier to make sure he doesn't see the action before I speak to her again. I don't want him to feel bad about the action. "I want to make sure my feelings for him are real and not caused by endorphin-releasing chocolate."
"You don't say," Mrs. Beauregarde says and I jump slightly, but notice that her words are directed at Willy. Her tone is suggestive and I begin to question as to whether she is married or not. Granted, Willy Wonka is very handsome, but a person shouldn't flirt if they are married.
Willy loses his smile almost instantly at her words and he nervously looks ahead. "All aboard," The slight shakiness of his tone goes unnoticed to most, but both Mrs. Beauregarde and I notice it, and she is definitely not the one smiling about it. I'm not smiling because he's uncomfortable because I don't like seeing him like that; I'm smiling because he isn't giving any signs of returning her affections. I don't love him, no, but I want to see if I can and having someone else vying for his affection would make me not think this through clearly.
…That sounds so selfish. I really do want to be happy with him if I turn out to love him…but making him happy in any way I can sounds nice as well. The turn in my thoughts is pushed away since I know what it reveals about my feeling towards him, and instead I turn to my mom.
"After you, Madame," I say and hold my hand towards her with a slight bow (any more of one and my ribs would really be hurting me). She grins and takes my hand, stepping closer to the boat.
"Why thank you, good sir." She gingerly steps into the boat, using my offered hand for leverage and I grin as well.
"Only for a beautiful lady such as you," I reply, amusement most likely shining in my eyes at our actions.
"Oh shush," She says, breaking out of her role as she sits down in the very back. I laugh as I move closer to the boat.
"What? It's true! Men usually only help women they think are pre-" I pause as a gloved hand is held in front of me. My eyes travel up along the maroon jacket and meet violet ones. The silence lasts but a moment before I give him a smile, a true one and not just a small one like usual, and take the offered hand. "Thank you."
I step into the boat, the smile never leaving my lips as I look I take a seat beside my mom, smoothing my dress out when I do so. Men usually only help women they think are pretty, my words finish in my mind as I watch Willy step onto the boat. He takes the seat beside me and I can feel his warmth since he's so close because the benches aren't very big. I don't know what to think about him offering his hand to me, but a warm feeling has lodged itself in me and I can't, nor do I want to, get rid of it.
"Onward!" Willy orders the Oompa-Loompas with a wave of his hand and the boat lurches forward. I see him give us a quick grin, which I return, before we fall to silence and he looks forward. Humming fills the air once again as we float along the river and I look at the passing landscape in awe, not having seen everything in the room. I feel Willy shifting beside me and I look over as he pulls a large, pink ladle out of the river with chocolate dripping from it.
"Her, try some of this." He hands the ladle to me and I cup a hand underneath it to prevent the chocolate from getting on my dress. "It'll do you some good. You look starved to death."
"Thank you, but I'm pretty sure you already brought notice to my skinniness." I say before bringing the ladle to my lips and sipping the thick liquid. Warm chocolate runs down my throat and I let out a small moan of delight before blushing at the sound and handing the ladle to my mom as I lick my lips. "It's great!" He smiles, happy to hear my compliment. My mom takes the ladle from it, smiling at my plight but also blushing because of the 'starved to death' comment. She gets embarrassed when our money situation is pointed out, but I find that us having such a close family is much better.
"That's because it's mixed by waterfall, it's very important," I smile as he begins to repeat himself and I'm not sure if he honestly forgot he already told us this or if he's just trying to fill the silence. "It mixes the chocolate, churns it up, and makes it light and frothy." His hands move around as he says this, his actions ghosting those of earlier. "By the way, no other factory in the world-"
"You already said that," Veruca interrupts and Willy freezes, his hand in the air, before he draws it back with the latex squeaking as he clenches his fingers nervously.
"You're all quite short, aren't you?" He says randomly and I fail to hold in my laughter at their offended looks. "You are too." I stick my tongue out at him, feeling playful.
"Yes, but I know I'm short and I accept it. Although, I could not brush my hair in the morning and I'm sure it will add a few inches with how frizzy it gets," I respond and he chuckles, which sounds a bit deeper than his normal laugh.
"Your hair gets frizzy?" My mom asks and I laugh as I visualize her hair in the mornings. "That's what I thought." Her grin is infectious and I don't lose the one it gives me as Violet defends herself.
"Well, yeah, we're children."
"Well, that's no excuse. I was never as short as you," He gloats and I smile, feeling the playfulness leaving me slightly. That is some really effective chocolate.
"You were once," Mike argues and Willy gains a slight smirk.
"Was not, know why? Because I distinctly remember putting a hat on top of my head." Mike rolls his eyes at the statement, but the chocolatier continues. "Look at your short little arms, you could never reach." The other turn forward with rolls of their eyes as well and I resist the urge to ask him what his life was like as a child. No matter what it may reveal, even the key to his creativity, I have no right to ask such a personal question. Childhoods aren't always good and I don't want to think about his being like mine.
"Do you remember what it was like being a kid," My mom asks and I look at her, trying to figure out why she would ask that. She was the one who taught me how important privacy is and to respect the privacy of others. She avoids my gaze and instead watches Willy, her look towards him intense behind the curls that had fallen in front of her eyes.
"Oh boy, do I," He replies fondly before he loses his smile as he thinks. "Do I?" I frown at that, but he seems to slip into memories long forgotten. I've made myself forget some memories too, like when those kids from school pushed me into a pond.
I don't think about it often because I don't want to be reminded, but I know they had been making fun of my fascination for Willy Wonka again. No one had even tried to save me when I shouted that I couldn't swim, they just ran, but before I blacked out I remember feeling strong arms wrapping around me. I like to think that it was Willy that had saved me since the pond was right next to the factory and therefore he would have seen me. That's just a fantasy though because when I had woken up that night I was laying in the snow all alone right next to the pond. I nearly died of pneumonia a week later, but the doctors had managed to save me. We don't know why, but the hospital bills were already paid for when I was checking out.
"Chocolat," I snap out of my thoughts when my mom says my name, grabbing my arm in worry as she points with her other hand at the tunnel ahead.
"Willy? Willy Wonka!" I say as we approach the very dark tunnel. I don't like the dark and I've always had the moon or the stars to keep my room lit. This is pitch darkness though and I don't know what could be waiting ahead. "We're headed for a tunnel, a very dark tunnel."
"You're scared of the dark? What are you, two?" I glare at Mike and Pick up the empty ladle that is still covered in chocolate.
"I could demonstrate how I threw that candy apple earlier, do you want me to?" I growl out and he turns back around quickly. I hate it when people make fun of me, but I usually don't fight back. I just don't want to be made fun of in front of Willy, whether over my own faults or my obsession with him. I don't want him to think I suffered because of him, because I didn't, it was my own choice.
"Yeah, okay," Willy responds to my earlier announcement, having just come out of his little trance. His gaze still seems unfocused as gives out orders to the Oompa-Loompas, "Full speed ahead."
The boat jolts as the beating of the drum speeds up and the Oompa-Loompas rowing increase their pace in a uniform movement. I grab my mom's hand as the darkness envelopes us, but I keep my eyes open and forward in an attempt to pierce through the dark and see what's ahead. "How can they see where they're going?" Violet asks and I realize that I'm wondering the same thing.
"They can't," Willy says, still with the lost-sounding tone he's had since he came out of his flashback. Worry for him creeps into my mind as I notice that, but then I realize exactly what he just said, they can't. "There's no knowing where they're going." I squeeze my mom's hand tighter at the implications of that. We could very well crash and not only would I drown in chocolate, I would drown with some aching, broken ribs because the impact with a wall would surely cause the cracks to become full breaks.
"Turn on the lights!" I smile at that and bright beams of light shine in front of the boat from above to show a descending ceiling of red-orange. I feel my eyes widen, and then we're falling. The boat drifts along the quick current wildly, but still under the control of the Oompa-Loompas, as we go through a series of smaller drops, chocolate splashing everywhere. I can feel drops of warm chocolate land on exposed skin, but I ignore it as a feeling of exhilaration overcomes me.
The lights shining from above emit a multitude of colors and distort the surroundings as they blend in. A kaleidoscope of colors mixed with the rushing feeling of the current underneath us and the chocolate scented air; it's wonderful. I can just feel inspiration coming to me with such a creative use of lights, a boat, and chocolate. I just might write about this adventure, but without revealing any secret recipes because I won't betray Willy's trust no matter what.
The boat slows down as we enter a calmer area after one last drop and the light fades out to become a shade of silvery-blue, like the moonlight of a full moon on a cloudless night. Something that comes rarely in my ever-cloudy home and a smile comes to my face, one that matches my mom's beside me.
"People, keep an eye out," Willy says, looking around slightly. "We're passing some very important rooms here." I notice the circular shaped, vault like doors along the walls, small landing platforms in front of them. The functions the rooms serve are labeled above the doors in lettering matching the colors being emitted from each room. We pass a room called clotted cream, a room labeled coffee cream with pink emitting from it, and strangely a room labeled hair cream, which glows a light blue.
"What do you use hair cream for?" Mrs. Beauregarde asks, looking back at the chocolatier. I give him a curious look as well and he primps his hair.
"To lock in moisture, ha ha," I let out a small laugh at that as the blonde-haired woman turns forward again after giving him a strange look. A cracking sounds comes from somewhere to my left and I look over my mom's shoulder to see a cow suspended in the air with Oompa-Loompas cracking whips at it. The cow emits a moo at each particular loud crack and I wince in sympathy for it, but I understand its purpose.
"Whipped cream," I guess as I look at the cow closer and see that no marks are being left on it, so they're not being to harsh on it, which is good. Still…
"Precisely," Willy says with a giggle and a grin towards me, his hands resting on the cane in front of him. I return the grin with a blush, the cries of the cow silenced at the happiness I feel when he smiles or grins at me.
"That doesn't make sense," Veruca says, looking over her fur-clad coat. I see drops of chocolate on the expensive mink and I feel sympathy for the animals that will be killed to replace it, but I also feel satisfaction as I picture her reaction when she notices the stains.
"For your information, little girl, whipped cream isn't whipped cream at all unless it's been whipped with whips," Willy says with a fake grin, explaining it to her as if it's obvious. If she were to look through his eyes, it probably would, it makes sense to me in a twisted sort of way. "Everybody knows that." His grin turns to a frown and she turns back, probably shocked that things didn't go her way just now.
The Oompa-Loompas pick up their pace again and I feel my mouth drop open as we enter a large area filled with purple walls containing many arches, the chocolate running around them swirling like rapids. I grab my mom's hand again, but I'm not as nervous as before and my heart flutters as I picture the scenes from before; will we be seeing a tunnel of colors again? I hope so.
"What causes the rapids?" I ask over the roar of the chocolate river and the beating of the drum.
"This is where milk is mixed in through jets to make milk chocolate," Willy says, pointing at a rapid where there is lighter colored chocolate then that of the tunnels before. "It shoots up and makes the rapids, it's really fun." I nod at his explanation with a smile, holding back winces of pain each time the boat jolts. I suppose he gathers dark chocolate from points in the river before this.
The flow picks up even faster and to my enjoyment the lights start changing colors again, which causes me to gaze at the fast-changing scenery in wonder. My mom squeezes my hand to catch my attention and I look over at her to see her eyeing my ribs, where I had placed my other hand in an attempt to stop the bumps from hurting me more. I squeeze her hand to comfort her as I also give her an uneasy smile. I know she's not saying anything because she doesn't want to risk ruining this day for me by having me be sent away to the hospital, and I couldn't be happier that she's doing that for me. The least I can do is make her believe what she's doing is alright by pretending the pain isn't as bad as it really is. I don't want her to think she's a bad parent because she's going along with what I want.
I'm amazed as the Oompa-Loompas manage to keep us from hitting any of the walls and yet still make it seem like we're out of control. Willy wouldn't risk our lives or the lives of children, so I know they're in control instead of it just being dumb luck.
I hope so, which is something I'm going to be doing a lot today. Hoping.
We come to another area, passing a jelly bean door, where the river becomes calm once again, a lighter color now. The area has a dome-like ceiling where a light shines out from the middle, making it look like it opens up into the heavens, but that would risk contaminating the chocolate and so it's either a fluorescent light (which is most likely because of chances of nighttime boat rides) or a window.
"Stop the boat! I want to show you guys something," Willy says, excited, and the Oompa-Loompa that's drumming beats a final thump and the boat stops before a platform leading towards the 'Inventing Room', which also shines in pink. We unload, my mom Willy helping me out before I help my mom, who reluctantly takes my hand.
"Are you okay, darling?" She whispers in my ear after she pretty much helps herself out, refusing to lean that much weight on me. I nod, reaching down to hold her hand. It's a comfort that I need in this place I love, a reminder of who I really am, and a distraction from the pain.
The metal door opens before us after Willy presses a combination of buttons and I hear myself gasp as I see and smell the different candies being invented. Large machines, most bearing a colorful, circular shape, are scattered around the room with many test tubes, vials, beakers, flasks and other things filled with different colored chemicals lying around them. I hesitantly follow Willy into the room, worried about breaking something and ruining his inventions. Steam is billowing around, causing the air to become humid and even warmer while Oompa-Loompas in black suits walk around checking each area. They seem perfectly at home in the slightly hot room and their hair amazingly stays in the same style, while I can practically feel mine frizzing up.
"Now this is the most important room in the entire factory," Willy says, turning around and speaking to us above the gurgling of the chemicals and humming of the machines. As always, his hands are moving around, one waving in the air while the other moves on his cane restlessly. "Now, everyone enjoy yourselves, but just don't touch anything, okay? Go on, go on, scoot." He uses both hands to explain the imperativeness of his last statement about no touching and everyone wanders around after that.
I watch Violet and Mike run over to a small tank where Oompa-Loompas are swimming around after small candy balls, while I walk over to look at a rather colorful array of liquids surrounded by Oompa-Loompas. My mom joins Violet and Mike to make sure they don't do anything. "Hello," I say, squatting down so I can look closer at the pot, a myriad of colors gazes back at me. "I'm Chocolat." These people fascinate me, but anything different, unique, and that has an association with Willy Wonka fascinates me. They look at me warily, but seem to relax a bit when I say my name.
"They like your name," Willy says from behind me as one makes some weird gestures towards him.
"Thank you," I tell them before I use my knees to push myself up, holding in my gasps of pain. Squatting down was not my best idea, but I tend to not think sometimes. I eye my trembling arms, still bearing splatters of chocolate ( I really need to wash that off the next chance I get), and will them to calm at least a little before I turn back to Willy. "I don't know what they're making, but it has some very pretty colors." He smiles, about to respond when Violet speaks up, unintentionally interrupting us.
"Hey, Mr. Wonka, what's this?" He turns at the question and begins to walk over when he sees what she is talking about.
"Oh, let me show you." When he reaches the tank he holds a hand over the water, in which an Oompa-Loompa places a red candy ball. "Thank you." He walks away, stopping before the rest of the group as he waves the red candy around. "These are everlasting gobstoppers. They're for children who are given very little allowance money. You can suck on it all year long and it will never get any smaller. Isn't that neat?"
"Very, but won't that keep you from selling very many?" I ask, hoping he doesn't think I'm criticizing.
"Nope, because they're each a different flavor and I'll keep coming up with new flavors and some that have more than one flavor, because it wouldn't be fun to have something for so long that just tastes the same." I nod at his reasoning, feeling relief that he didn't take offense.
"It's like gum," Violet says, her gum making an annoying smacking sound with each chew.
"No," Willy states very clearly, holding the candy in front of him. "Gum is for chewing, and if you tried chewing one of these Gobstoppers you'd break all of your little teeth off. But they sure do taste terrific." He obviously doesn't like gum, but I won't object because Violet has made sure I'm going to avoid it from now on.
"And this is hair toffee." I walk over to where he is, a gold colored toffee in his hands. "You suck down one of these little boogers and in exactly half an hour a brand-new crop of hair will grow out of the top of your little noggins." I feel a hand enclose mine and squeeze it when Willy says that and I look back at the perpetrator to see my mom grinning. My dad would love this stuff since he's worried that he is going bald. "And a moustache, and a beard." I try to hold in my giggles as I picture my dad with a moustache and beard, and the giggles I hear from behind me show that my mom had thought the same thing.
"Who wants a beard?" Mike asks, his tone condescending once again. This little boy need to learns some respect and stop thinking that just because he's smart that that means he is better than the rest of us.
"Well…" Willy says, thinking for a moment. "Beatniks for one, folk singers and motorbike riders; You know, all those hip, jazzy, super-cool, neat, keen, and groovy cats." I watch as the two young girls nearby eye each other when they think the other isn't looking, and I wonder briefly if all of these kids have superiority complexes. "It's in the fridge, daddy-o. Are you hep to the jive, can you dig what I'm laying down? I knew that you could. Slide me some skin, soul-brother." I laugh slightly as Mike just stares at his hand, completely confused as to what he had just said. I guess he's no as smart as he thought.
Unfortunately, the mixture isn't quite right yet, cause an Oompa-Loompa tried one yesterday, and well, he-" Willy tries to hold in some giggles as he thinks of what had happened and I wonder briefly what it was before it literally walks right in front of us. A figure the size of an Oompa-Loompa that really just looks like a bunch of walking, wavy brown hair comes towards us and stops, and I know this is the one who had tried the toffee. "How are you today?" Willy asks the hairy form loudly, so it can hear him through all of the hair. It holds up two thumbs and Willy gives a nervous smile. "You look great." The Oompa-Loompa walks away at that and I cover my mouth with my hand to hide my smile.
We walk over to a large machine, the circular walls are clear and reveal the many wires inside, and I absently note that above the machine an Oompa-Loompa walks along the catwalks. "Watch this," Willy says in excitement, pulling on a small white lever with a red knob on top. After he pulls it he hurries over to where a large silver part of the machine rotates to before stopping and opening up as the chemicals in the machine bubble and a whirring sound fills the room. A small metal arm is revealed only to turn into another, smaller one, and then again and from that one comes a piece of gum. I find it ironic that he hates gum so much but still makes it.
Violet grabs the gum and Mike speaks out again. "You mean that's it?" I admit one piece of gum might be a bit disappointing, but obviously there is something special about it, so he needs to shut up.
"Do you even know what 'it' is?" Apparently Willy is thinking along the same lines as me, mainly about how stupid it is to ask that before he had even had a chance to explain.
"It's gum," Violet states simply.
"Yeah." Willy nods before explaining. "It's a stick of the most amazing and sensational gum in the whole universe. Know why? Know why?" I shake my head no, smiling at his excitement and pride in his work. "Because this gum is a full three-course dinner all by itself."
"Why would anyone want that?" Mr. Salt asks and I see my mom roll her eyes. Of course he and his wife don't have to worry about cooking, but that would at least solve our hunger problems. That and we wouldn't have to worry about wasting electricity cooking and could instead use the extra money to fix the house. He doesn't have to worry about cost because he's rich or the hassle of cooking disappearing because he's a man. Willy opens his mouth to speak, but seems to forget the words and instead feels around his jacket for something. I giggle slightly when I see the note cards once again.
"It would be the end of all kitchens and all cooking," He reads in a persuasive tone. "Just a little strip of Wonka's magic chewing gum and that is all you will…ever need at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. This piece of gum happens to be tomato soup, roast beef, and blueberry pie."
"It sounds great," My mom breathes and I look over my shoulder to smile at her.
"It sounds weird," Veruca says and once again I notice the rich issue keeps them from realizing the things he could do with this. This could possibly solve world-hunger if each strip provides everything that the real foods provide in nutrients, carbs, and other things. I'm sure they do considering it would be the 'end of all kitchens and cooking'.
"It sounds like my kind of gum," Violet announces, pulling the gum in her mouth out and sticking it behind her ear. Yeah, I'm definitely going to avoid all gum other than the meal gum once it's finished.
"I'd rather you didn't." Willy says, waving his hand around in warning with a serious look on his face. "There's still one or two things that are-"
"I'm the world-record holder in chewing gum, I'm not afraid of anything." She stuffs the gum in her mouth while Willy gives a look that says, 'Well, if that's what you think.' Her mother smirks in pride and I wonder if she realizes her daughter could possibly face a side effect or if she only cares that her daughter is doing something that no one else has done before.
"How is it, honey?" Mrs. Beauregarde asks and I feel curiosity as well, but also a small amount of pity for Violet.
"It's amazing! Tomato soup, I can feel it running down my throat." The amazing concept that he can make people feel sensations overwhelms my pity for her, but it comes back when Willy gives her another warning that's she disregards.
"Yeah. Spit it out." I wonder what the side effect is; maybe it causes her to lose her taste or to be able to taste only this meal for the rest of her life? Maybe it just makes her sick?
"Sweetie, I think you'd better-" My mom begins, but Violet ignores her and instead interrupts her.
"It's changing, roast beef with baked potato. With crispy skin and butter!" She sounds so excited, but I can see her eyes darting occasionally to her mother to see if she's doing right. I look at Willy and see that he looks a bit worried.
"Keep chewing," Mrs. Beauregarde encourages and I see my mom give her a look of disgust. "My little girl's gonna be the first person in the world to have a chewing-gum meal."
"Yeah, I'm just a little concerned about the-" I try to listen to his warning, but Violet interrupts, more worried about doing right in her mother's eyes than for her own health.
"Blueberry Pie and Ice cream!"
"That part," Willy points out, giving up hope on his warnings. I guess it's too late.
"What's happening to her nose?" Veruca asks and I look to see a small spot of blue blooming on the tip of her nose. I love colors, they stick out in the gray world outside of this factory, but I don't think people are supposed to be blue.
"It's turning blue," Mr. Salt says in answer to Veruca's question, his tone is one of astonishment.
"Your whole nose has gone purple," Mrs. Beauregarde tells Violet and the girl raises her hand to her nose, where the violet color is tracing along her veins before dyeing the skin in-between them violet as well.
"What do you mean?" She asks with her tone as innocent as a little girl's is supposed to be. She really wasn't thinking of the consequences, she was just thinking about making her mom proud of her, which is probably what she always does. She wants her mom to see and acknowledge her, so she wins whatever she does and does whatever she can in order to get her mom to notice her. I feel the pity I was feeling come back, a bit stronger this time.
"Violet, you're turning Violet!" She says and they both look at Willy in panic, the girl more panic, and the mom more horror. "What's happening?" She asks of the chocolatier, and he begins to back away.
"Well, I told you I hadn't quite got it right. Because it goes a little funny when it gets to the dessert. It's the blueberry pie that does it." At this point Veruca isn't even trying to hide her satisfied look as she gazes upon Violet. "I'm terribly sorry." He pauses in backing up, a scrunched, uneasy look on his face as if he's about to say something but can't think of it, and then he ducks from view.
"Mother, what's happening to me?" We all back away as the violet travels along her body, even her hair and her clothes. I feel disgust when I see that Mrs. Beauregarde has backed away too instead of comforting her daughter. The young girl starts to swell up at an alarming rate and I realize what is happening. She's becoming a blueberry…
"She's swelling up," My mom gasps and I nod in agreement.
"Like a blueberry." My statement makes everyone realize what is really happening, even Violet and she looks at herself in terror. I see Willy rise back up from where he was hiding momentarily to watch before he lowers himself again, suddenly appearing behind Mrs. Beauregarde.
"I've tried it on, like, 20 Oompa-Loompas, and each one ended up as a blueberry. It's just weird." He says, his giggle nervous.
"I can't have a blueberry as a daughter," Mrs. Beauregarde says, eyeing her daughter's huge, round form. "How is she supposed to compete?"
"Compete? All you care about is competing? Are you blind to your daughter's feelings? Your daughter could possibly blow up and all you give a damn about is competing? You don't even deserve to be a mother." Amazingly, it's my mom who spits out these words and not me, although I had been thinking the same thing.
"You could put her in the county fair," Veruca suggests and I glare at her.
"Shut up before I make you, you spoiled brat," I growl, too low for her father to hear. Mrs. Beauregarde stares at Willy and a beat starts up from the mischievous Oompa-Loompas.
Yeah, yeah
Listen close, listen hard
The tale of Violet Beauregarde
This gentle girl, she sees no wrong
Chewing, chewing, chewing, chewing,
chewing, chewing all day long
Chewing, chewing all day long
Chewing, chewing all day long
Chewing, chewing all day long
Willy is dancing to the disco beat and I listen to the music and Violet's screaming as the Oompa-Loompas jump on top of her in dance. They're spinning her in the direction of the large, round door that leads to the boat, their song most likely there to distract others from the situation. That must be what Willy is doing by dancing, he's hoping to distract us from the problem and cheer us up instead.
She goes on chewing till at last
Her chewing muscles grow so fast
From her face her giant chin
Sticks out just like a violin
Chewing, chewing all day long
Chewing, chewing all day long
Chewing, chewing all day long
Oompa-Loompa, Oompa-Loompa,
Oompa-Loompa, Oompa-Loompa
For years and years she chews away
Her jaws get stronger every day
And with one great tremendous chew
They bite the poor girl's tongue in two
And that is why we try so hard
To save Miss Violet Beauregarde
Chewing, chewing all day long
Chewing, chewing all day long
Chewing, chewing, chewing, chewing,
chewing, chewing all day long.
Chewing, chewing all day long.
Chewing, chewing all day long.
"Mr. Wonka!" Violet can be heard shouting. After all, he had at least tried to warn her of what could happen while her mom had just encouraged the rule breaking, so of course she shout for him. Plus, he knows what to do if this has happened before.
"I want you to roll Ms. Beauregarde into the boat and take her along to the Juicing Room at once, okay?" Willy asks of an Oompa-Loompa after Mrs. Beauregarde stared at him expectantly.
"The Juicing Room? What are they gonna do to her there?" I feel satisfaction as I actually hear worry in her tone, because my mom's words have obviously had some impact on her.
"Er, they're gonna squeeze her, like a little pimple," He pauses after his awkward analogy, but continues in explanation. "We gotta squeeze all of that juice out of her immediately." With a small gasp as she remembers my mom's words that her daughter might blow up, the blonde woman runs up to her daughter's form, which is stuck in the doorway.
"Mother, help me! Please!" I wish Violet would have been able to see her mother's face just now, if only to know that her mother actually does care for and not just competing. I just hope Mrs. Beauregarde can keep this up. Violet is finally pushed through the door with the help of her mother and they disappear from view.
"Come on," Willy says after a minute of awkward silence. "Let's boogie." I follow him as the door shuts behind Violet and listen to the rhythmic tapping of his cane on the floor while I think, the noise keeping me calm. I hope the squeezing process isn't painful, because I don't blame Violet…
….And I don't want to blame Willy Wonka.
A/N: I hope y'all liked it even though I wasn't very satisfied with it, but then again I'm hardly ever satisfied with my writing. Let me know if it was at least okay, please?