While the Oompa-Loompa was escorting a distraught Mrs. Gloop, I asked Willy.
"Willy?" I spoke up.
"Huh?" He looked down at me.
"Why would Augustus' name already be in the Oompa-Loompa song? Unless— " I began, but a hush quickly interrupted me.
"Improvisation is a parlor trick. Anyone can do it," he smiled.
Willy then shifted his attention to Violet and prompted, "You, little girl. Say something. Anything."
Violet, as obvious as she is, replied, "Chewing gum."
"Chewing gum is really gross. Chewing gum, I hate the most," he said in a playful tone. He turned back to me again. "See? Exactly the same."
"No, it isn't," Mike objected.
"Uh, you really shouldn't mumble. Because I can't understand a word you're saying," Willy said, while Mike simply stared.
"Now, on with the tour!" He resumed leading everyone. Miss Mitchell and I, behind our group, engaged in a hushed conversation to ensure it went unnoticed by the others.
"Who gave you the idea to call him by his first name?" she asked.
I answered, "He mentioned that 'Mr.' or 'Sir' sounds too old for him. I don't quite understand his reasoning."
As she gazed at Willy, she remarked, "He may appear quite youthful for the title of mister, but his respectfulness certainly impresses me."
I let out an exasperated sigh and muttered, "Miss Mitchell, please tell me you're not considering him."
She chuckled softly and whispered, "Oh, you silly (Y/N). Romance rarely unfolds in the blink of an eye!"
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As Willy led us to the river's edge, I noticed a boat resembling a pink seahorse approaching. It had rear seats and was manned by a large number of Oompa-Loompas dressed in blue. They rowed the boat to a halt, collectively breaking into giggles.
"What's so funny?" Violet asked, chewing her gum. Willy leaned his head and quipped, "I think it's from all those doggone cocoa beans."
"Hey, by the way, did you guys know that chocolate contains a property that triggers the release of endorphins?" he shared. "Gives one the feeling of being in love."
"You don't say," Mrs. Beauregarde said with a flirtatious gaze. Willy just looked at her as we cringed at her attempt.
Willy turned his attention back to the boat and cheerfully exclaimed, "All aboard!" We proceeded to board the boat at a leisurely pace.
First, it was the Beauregarde's, then the Teavee's, then the Salts' and finally me and Miss Mitchell. I assumed that there's no space left for the Gloop's, as if it were predicted that they'd leave the group.
I adjusted my seating position to look nicely on the boat. Willy sat beside us and shouted, "Onward!"
Among the sounds of the big drum and the rhythmic rowing of the Oompa-Loompas, the boat slowly began to glide away from the riverbank.
All was silent until Willy grabbed a pink ladle and scooped up a small portion from the chocolate river.
"Here. Try some of this. It'll do you good. You look starved to death!" he said with concern.
Gratefully, I held on to the ladle and took a little sip, tasting its delightful flavor. "It's great!" I said. I passed the ladle to Miss Mitchell so she could have a taste.
Willy chimed in, "That's because it's mixed by a waterfall."
The four other families turned their heads, listening to Willy more. "The waterfall is most important, mixes the chocolate, churns it up, makes it light and frothy. By the way, no other factory in the world-"
"You already said that," Veruca interrupted, causing a noticeable shift in Willy's expression. He fell silent, contributing to the awkward silence on the boat. They kept staring at him, while I tried to divert my attention to the other parts of the room.
"You're all quite short, aren't you?" he randomly spoke.
"Well, yeah. We're children," Violet said, with a glare.
Willy replied back, "Well, that's no excuse. I was never as short as you."
"You were once," Mike further said.
"Was not. Know why? Because I distinctly remember putting a hat on top of my head!" He playfully flicked his hat and pointed to the other children. "Look at your short, little arms. You could never reach."
His laughter filled the awkward silence, and gradually, the others returned their focus to the front. Soon enough, I found myself engaged in a pleasant conversation with Willy.
"How do you manage living in an orphanage?" he asked me.
I responded, "We have schedules, you see. Everyone needs to follow them so Miss Mitchell can make sure we're all behaving properly."
I looked at her and added, "And for me? I can't live without her because she's like a mom to me." Miss Mitchell and Willy just smiled, despite the man's uneasiness.
"Anyway, do you even remember what it was like to be a kid?" I then questioned.
"Oh boy, do I!" He lightly laughed, before his smile slowly disappeared. "Do I?"
As I observed Willy's sudden change in expression, a sense of sorrow in his eyes hinted at a childhood that had not been like that of other children. Concerned, I glanced over at Miss Mitchell, sensing that I might have touched upon a sensitive topic.
"It's okay, (Y/N). Let's not ask him that immediately, alright?" Miss Mitchell reassured me, her hand gently holding mine. I nodded in agreement, understanding that some things were better left unspoken.
The boat is slowly floating through the tunnel, with the darkness almost reaching it. I had to get Willy to focus now that he is distracted.
"Mr. Wonka, we're headed for a tunnel!" I shook his arm, almost blurting out the other name.
Willy suddenly snapped out of his thoughts, his eyes blinking as he noticed me pointing towards the dark tunnel ahead. He swiftly ordered the Oompa-Loompas to proceed at full speed.
The drums pounded louder and the rowing became faster. I prepared to hold on to Miss Mitchell's hand.
"How can they see where they're going?" said Violet.
Willy spoke in a quiet voice, saying, "They can't. There's no knowing where they're going."
Willy called out to the Oompa-Loompas, instructing them to switch on the lights. It appeared as though we were headed straight, but to our surprise, the boat suddenly dropped and descended.
Caught off guard, I let out a yelp and instinctively held onto the nearest hand, which happened to be Willy's. He noticed my surprise but continued to hold my hand reassuringly.
The boat continued its rapid journey down the river, with the rhythmic rowing and the pounding sounds still resonating. We all clung to our seats as if we were on a thrilling roller coaster ride.
As we reached the point where the boat gradually slowed down, I couldn't help but feel a bit tense.
However, Willy's grin and comforting words eased me. "It's ok, (Y/N). You can let go for now. Take a look!" he encouraged, inviting me to enjoy the experience.
"People! Keep an eye out. We're passing some very important rooms here," he called out. We turned our heads to the rooms, each labeled: "Clotted Cream", "Coffee Cream", and...
"Hair Cream"?
"Miss Mitchell, what's clotted cream?" I pondered.
"It's used for cream tea and confectionery," she said.
Mrs. Beauregarde turned back to Willy and she inquired, "What do you use hair cream for?"
"To lock in moisture," Willy said, his fingers idly toying with a few strands of his hair. The mother's expression changed once more as she redirected her attention to the front.
"No wonder it looks so soft," I thought.
The sound of commotion drew our attention to a nearby room where a group of Oompa-Loompas were doing something to the cow.
"Whipped cream!" I chuckled.
"Precisely!" Willy grinned.
"That doesn't make sense," Veruca disagreed.
Willy turned his head back to the spoiled girl. "For your information, little girl, whipped cream isn't whipped cream at all unless it's been whipped with whips. Everybody knows that," he explained with annoyance. His tone left no room for argument.
The boat took off again, and I grabbed Willy's and Miss Mitchell's hands tightly out of instinct. They exchanged glances, silently acknowledging that I was becoming tense once again.
We sped through the rapid rivers, with the names of the passing rooms blurring by—their titles momentarily forgotten, but of no immediate concern. Unexpectedly, the boat ride slowed down once more. I released my grip on both their hands as Willy got the workers' attention.
"Stop the boat!" he exclaimed, then looked at us. "I want to show you something."
The boat came to a halt in front of a room labeled "The Inventing Room."