Chapter Text
Friday was everyone's favorite day, just behind Saturday and Sunday, and of course, that also included the children. The last bell rang, and now over fifty kids from some state primary school, were dashing towards the nearest candy shop. Everyone knew it was better to move aside to avoid getting trampled by the mob.
The small and humble, yet charming family shop was soon flooded with yelling kids, greedily trying to grab anything they could:
"Me first!"
"Gum! Gum! Gum!
"Sizzler! I want a Sizzler!"
"A Squelchy Snorter!"
"C'mon give me some jelly beans!"
"Me! Me!"
It was barely understandable with so much noise clashing at the same time, but Bill, the candyman with slicked hair, and a striped red and white shirt that looked like candy cane, knew exactly what to do.
"Calm down, calm down, children! No one will go home with their hands empty! He said shutting them down a tiny bit.
"Let me guess!" After thinking for a second, he quickly got up a ladder and picked up several chocolate bars "A triple cream cup for Christopher... A Squelchy Snorter for Otis... A Sizzler for June Marie..."
"And what it's going to be today, Mr. Winkleman?" Bill eyed the kid who kept asking for a different candy every day
"I don't know, got anything new?" He asked
"Sure! And I bet you're going to love this one..." Opening a drawer the candy man pulled out a thin long chocolate bar (that was no bigger than a regular Wonka bar, it just had two rows instead of four) "This is Wonka's Whipple-Scrumptious Fudgemallow Delight!"
The little boy was gaping, he couldn't believe it "It's so big! How does he do it?"
"My dear boy!" Bill acted as if he was offended "Do you ask a fish how it swims? Or a bird how it flies?"
"No?..." The kid was confused
With a cheeky grin, he continued "No sirree, you don't! They do it because they were born to do it. Just like Willy Wonka was born to be a candyman, and you look like you were born to be a wonkarer!"
The kids giggled in excitement as life couldn't be sweeter. No matter, if it was to celebrate or to forget the sorrows, the guilty pleasure of sugar, was always there for kids and grown-ups: Chocolate bars, cotton candy, gumdrops, fudge, marshmallows, licorice, taffy, sugary gum, candy cane, peanut butter cups, jelly beans, gobstoppers... Just thinking about it made this meek and shrimpy black boy, dressed in unfitting old rags, drool like a mad old dog.
The ten-year-old was Charlie Bucket, our protagonist, and there he was, outside of the shop staring and the great slabs of chocolate piled up high in the windows, with his nose pressed against the cold glass. The fact that he couldn't buy even a single one of those bars was pure torture, but he couldn't stop looking.
"Oi! Come along, Charlie; you're late!" Called a voice from the street across, startling the boy
Charlie turned around, recognizing the voice "Oh, hi Mr. Jopeck"
Soon he brushed his candy thoughts aside and ran towards Mr. Jopeck's kiosk, opening his old sewn-back-together bag so the man could put the newspapers inside. As Mr. Jopeck went back to work, Charlie meekly poked his arm
"It's payday, sir"
"You're right" the man chuckled awkwardly, reaching for a six-pence in his stand and paying the boy "There you are!"
Charlie smiled and thanked the man, putting the money in his pockets and then running fast, as fast as he could, to deliver the paper around his rather poor neighborhood in London
"And say hello to your father!" Mr. Jopeck yelled, hoping the kid heard him
Charlie was, literally and figuratively, quick on his feet, as the local paperboy he was used to running and knew the best routes by heart, but given how happy he was now, he did It even faster. He ran through the market, dropping the newspapers on everyone's bags, he ran around the nice expensive houses, using all his strength to throw the papers over the tall metal doors, he ran to the church, the park, the main street... He ran, ran, and ran. And finally, the work was done.
It was evening when Charlie was walking back home, but even in dim light, the enormous chocolate factory of Mr. Willy Wonka was still visible. It wasn't simply an ordinary enormous chocolate factory, it was the largest and most famous in the whole world, and what a tremendous, marvelous place it was: It had huge iron gates leading into it, and a high wall surrounding all, colorful smoke belching from its chimneys, and strange whizzing sounds coming from deep inside it. Outside the walls, for half a mile around in every direction, the air was scented with the rich smell of melting chocolate.
While walking right past the gates, the little Bucket walked very very slowly, using every single second to hold his nose high in the air and take long deep sniffs of the gorgeous chocolatey smell all around him. Oh, how he loved that smell, and what would he give to be able to go inside the factory and see what it was like? Of course, it was all an impossible dream, but every kid needs something to wish for. It was unbelievable such a wonderful place could exist, let alone within sight of a tiny, old wooden house. It truly was the heart of the neighborhood, the city, or the country even.
That house at the edge of the town was the Buckets’ one, the whole family: Joey and Gina Bucket, their only son, Charlie, and the four grandparents lived together. Anyone could tell the house wasn't nearly large enough for so many people, and life was extremely uncomfortable for them. There was only one room, with a big bed in the middle of it, an improvised kitchen, a small table, and an old dresser with a TV on top. The bed was given to the four old grandparents because they were so old and tired (Grandpa Joe and Grandma Josephine on the right side, Grandpa George and Grandma Georgina on the left)
Charlie's "room", which he shared with his parents, was in the attic, with an itchy hay bed on the floor, and a few art and craft projects he made over time. In the summertime, this wasn't too bad, but in the winter, cold draughts blew across the floor all night long, and the Bucket parents put a shivering Charlie between them trying to keep him as warm as they could.
Mrs. Bucket was making their usual watery cabbage soup while whistling a melancholic melody. She was sixty years old, but the stress made her look even older. She wore a hat because her hair started to fall off, and had massive bags under her eyes. Still, she always kept the caring and tender smile that once made Mr. Bucket fall in love.
As soon as they heard the door opening, the four grandparents raised their heads as high as they could, just like moles getting out of their tunnels. To their disappointment, it wasn't Charlie, it was Mr. Bucket. Not that they were unhappy to see the man, but the night in those neighborhoods was anything but kid-friendly.
Mr. Bucket was as old as his wife, Charlie's mother swears he was a very handsome bachelor, but what a peculiar sight of him we had. The safety equipment in his old workplace wasn't good enough, and the chemicals gradually took a toll on Mr. Bucket's skin, leaving him covered in ugly, painful, and swollen orange spots. Mrs. Bucket insisted for a very long time that he should leave that job, and after a while he did, he now worked in a toothpaste factory, where he sat all day long at a bench and screwed the little caps onto the tops of the tubes of toothpaste after the tubes had been filled. He had a smaller pay, but at least his condition was getting better.
"Where's Charlie?" He asked while closing the door "I got something for him"
"He's not here yet, dear," Mrs. Bucket answered, watering the soup even more to be able to serve everyone. "I'm starting to get worried..."
Of course, Joey was worried too, but he didn't want to make the family panic. He gently hugged Gina from behind and kissed her neck
"If he's not back in ten minutes, I'll go and look for him"
The bed springs screeched, followed by a groan. Grandpa George was trying to get up, but his daughter quickly came to his side and tried to make him stay in bed
"Please, Dad. Don't do anything crazy"
George didn't listen, his arms trembled and he could barely sit. "As soon as I get my strength back, I will get the family out of this hellhole!"
"Last time you tried it you fell to the floor and almost split your pelvis in two, please be careful. You need to rest, and Charlie needs the four of you to be there for him"
Gina's words managed to make him stop, muttering things under his breath in frustration.
"He works too hard for a little boy, he should be riding a bike, catching some butterflies, or whatever kids do these days!" Grandpa Joe let out
"I know, I know, Dad" Joey lowered his head in shame "It's just that with my salary alone it's not enough, we need more money!"
"Please, don't argue" Grandma Josephine tried to get between her son and husband "We need to keep it together"
"Sorry, Mom. And dad, things will get better, I don't know why, but I can feel it" Mr. Bucket calmed down and tried to be as supportive as he could with his parents
Grandpa Joe was often the most optimistic of the grandparents, but seeing his boy work at such a young age hit him hard "Thank you, Joey, I'm just worried for Charlie, he deserves better, and I wish I could help him"
Then what they needed happened
"Hi, I'm home!" Charlie quickly opened the door, and soon any anxiety in the small house was overshadowed by the positivity of the boy.
Grandma Josephine and Grandpa Joe's wrinkled faces light up with smiles of pleasure
"Wake up, now" Surprisingly, Grandpa George was always very soft and delicate with Grandma Georgina, who was sleeping before
Mr. Bucket started filling the bowls with soup and serving them to the elders, as his wife quickly threw herself on Charlie's arms, kissed his forehead, and eyed every single inch of his body to make sure he wasn't harmed
"Charlie, are you okay? It's very late and you had us worried" she asked a bit more calm, seeing he was alright
"Mom, it's fine..." He complained a bit ashamed "I'm sorry for scaring you I didn't want to, I was working for Mr. Jopeck..." Then he remembered something "Oh! And dad, he said hello"
"We're so proud of you, Charlie" Mr. Bucket pat his son's back firmly but carefully
Then Charlie went to his grandparents' bed and gave each one of them a small hug and a kiss on the cheek, making sure he wouldn't harm his fragile loved ones.
"Good evening Grandma Georgina, Grandpa George, Grandma Josephine, and Grandpa Joe" he called each one of them as he got to their side.
Every one of these people was at least ninety, as shriveled as prunes, and as bony as skeletons, laying huddled in their one bed with their old gowns and nightcaps.
Grandpa Joe was the oldest at ninety-six, and by extension, the most delicate and weak, he was very tall, with not a single hair on his head, and a pair of beady black eyes that would shine in excitement when he told his youth stories, as if he regained his energy.
Both Grandma Josephine and Grandma Georgina were ninety-four, grandma Josephine had long white hair and a big nose that got crooked over time. She looked like a witch, but she wasn't like one, she was caring and motherly. Grandma Georgina was a small granny with big glasses and a toothless gummy smile, Charlie barely remembers when she wasn't "gone", but she loves them all.
Grumpy Grandpa George was ninety, the youngest of the grandparents, unlike Joe, with thin and white hair, and eyebrows that connected on his nose bridge, he also lost one of his arms in World War, he was a pilot back then, but he didn't want to talk about it.
When Charlie saw the bowl in grandpa Joe's hands his smile faded, he took a spoonful of it and looked in disappointment and disgust.
"Is that your supper, Grandpa?" He asked
The old man was taken aback "Well, it's yours too Charlie. I can give you mine if you're hungry"
The boy groaned and went back to the table to look in his bag "I'm fed up with cabbage water! It's not enough!"
"Charlie, that's all we have!" Said grandma Josephine
"What did you say, little boy?!" Said grandpa George
Then Charlie showed a big loaf of bread to the whole family "How about this?"
"Charlie, where did you get that?" Asked his father in shock, blinking repeatedly
"It's my first payday!" The boy explained excitedly
His mother eyed the bread in amazement "This is great Charlie, we'll have a real banquet" Then she started cutting it for everyone
"Grapes?" Asked Grandma Georgina absentmindedly, with a big smile
"No Grandma, but when I can, I will buy you grapes, the most juicy grapes in the whole world" Charlie held a penny in the air to prove it, and sure he ended up doing it later on.
Charlie gave the rest of the money to his parents, half to Mr. Bucket, and half to Mrs. Bucket, and even if their food wasn't much, it was an improvement over their usual supper, and they celebrated it. Like always, after having his watery cabbage soup, Charlie sat on the floor in front of his grandparents' bed to listen to their stories, and his parents were preparing the bed for later. That hour before bedtime was the favorite moment of every Bucket, especially the poor old grandparents. Their little boy was the only bright thing in their lives, and his evening visits were something that they looked forward to all day long.
"Mr. Wonka made a new chocolate bar, but it looked like the same regular bar, just chopped in half and stacked one on top of the other. I don't get it" Charlie said confused
"Ah, Mr. Wonka," said Grandpa Joe, raising himself a little higher on his pillow, "That man is a genius, the most amazing, the most fantastic, the most extraordinary chocolate maker the world has ever seen!"
"It must be believed to be seen... Or was it the other way around?" Added grandma Georgina
"Didn't you know that, Charlie?" Cried Grandma Josephine "Your grandfather used to work there when he was a young man, he always brought me the crunchiest caramel apples"
Charlie let out a sheepish chuckle "Well, I knew he was very famous, and that his factory was huge, but I didn't know that about grandpa..."
"Wait" the old man made a pause. "You mean to say I've never told you about Mr. Willy Wonka and his factory? Never?"
Charlie thought about it to see if maybe he just forgot, but then he slowly shook his head
"Good heavens above! I don't know what's the matter with me!" His over-the-top cry made Charlie laugh a bit
"Will you tell me now, Grandpa Joe, please?"
"I certainly will! My grandson can't go around without knowing this"
Grandpa Joe was so excited, he almost looked young again. He was a storyteller, he always wanted to be a writer, and well, he technically was, he wrote several books, but finding a publisher wasn't easy, not if you didn't have money and power, so he had to look for other more profitable jobs — Hence his work for Mr. Wonka. Needless to say, Charlie loved his tales, he read every single one of them.
"Not again…" complained Grandpa George "I can't believe you told us over a million times, but always forgot to tell Charlie!"
Grandma Georgina frowned "No, he didn't, I've never heard that story"
"Georgina, he told us about all this ice cream and marshmallows last week" explained Grandpa George
"Ignore them, they can get a bit nutty" Grandma Josephine chuckled while addressing Charlie
Then Grandpa Joe pat the bed a few times before talking "Sit down beside me on the bed, my dear, and listen carefully"
"Oh, what a man he is, this Mr. Willy Wonka! Did you know, for example, that he has himself invented more than two hundred new kinds of
chocolate bars, each with a different center, each far sweeter and creamier and more delicious than anything the other chocolate factories can make!"
"Perfectly true!" Exclaimed Grandma Josephine. "And he sends them to all the four corners of the earth! Isn't that so, Joe?"
"It is, my dear, it is. And to all the kings and presidents of the world as well. But it isn't only chocolate bars that he makes. Oh, dear me, no! He has some fantastic inventions up his sleeve, Mr Willy Wonka has! Did you know that he's invented a way of making chocolate ice cream so that it stays cold for hours and hours without being in the refrigerator? You can even leave it lying in the sun all morning on a hot day and it won't go runny!"
"But that's impossible!" said little Charlie staring at his grandfather, imagining how amazing it would be to buy one of those ice creams and keep it for a month
"Of course it's impossible!" cried Grandpa Joe. 'It's completely absurd, ice cream is made of ice, and ice always melts. But somehow Mr. Willy Wonka has done it!"
"Quite right!" the others agreed, nodding their heads. "Mr. Wonka has done it".
"And then again," Grandpa Joe went on speaking very slowly now so that Charlie
wouldn't miss a word, "Mr. Willy Wonka can make marshmallows that taste of violets, rich caramels that change color every ten seconds as you suck them, and little feathery sweets that melt away deliciously the moment you put them between your lips. He can make chewing gum that never loses its taste, also sugar balloons that you can blow up to enormous sizes before you pop them with a pin
and gobble them up" he emphasized his words with as many gestures as his weak body could make.
"Oh, and his eggs! His wonderful eggs! Mr. Wonka himself let me test this one before It was out in the market"
"What was it? What was it, Grandpa?" Charlie wanted to know everything about the factory
"Lovely blue birds' eggs with black spots on them!" Grandpa Joe yelled in excitement "But that was only the beginning! when you put one of these in your mouth, it gradually gets smaller and smaller until suddenly there is nothing left except a tiny little pink sugary baby bird sitting on the tip of your tongue"
Grandpa Joe paused and ran the point of his tongue slowly over his lips. "It makes my mouth water just thinking about it," he said.
"Mine, too," said little Charlie, his stomach still growling even after supper. "But please go on."
While they were talking, Mr and Mrs Bucket, Charlie's mother and father, had
came quietly into the room, and now both were standing just near the stair
"Tell Charlie about that crazy Indian prince," said Grandma Georgina "He'd like
to hear that one".
"You mean Prince Pondicherry?" Asked Grandpa Joe, before bursting into laughter
"Completely dotty!" said Grandpa George.
"But extremely rich," said Grandma Josephine.
"And what did he do?!" asked Charlie eagerly.
"Listen," started Grandpa Joe, "Mr. Wonka told me this story long ago, it's true, as true as It can be." Warned the man before explaining.
"Prince Pondicherry wrote a letter to Mr. Willy Wonka and asked him to come all the way out to India and build him a colossal palace entirely
out of chocolate."
"Did Mr Wonka do it, Grandpa?"
"He did, indeed. And what a palace it was! It had one hundred rooms, and everything was made of either dark or light chocolate! The bricks were chocolate, and the cement holding them together was chocolate, and the windows were chocolate, and all the walls and ceilings were made of chocolate, so were the carpets and the pictures and the furniture and the beds; and when you turned on the taps in the bathroom, hot chocolate came pouring out"
At this point, Grandpa Joe tried his best to imitate the character's wacky voices and accents.
"When it was all finished, Mr Wonka said to Prince Pondicherry: "I warn you, though, it won't last very long, so you'd better start eating it right away."
"Nonsense!" shouted the Prince. "I'm not going to eat my palace! I'm not even going to nibble the staircase or lick the walls! I'm going to live in it!"
"But Mr. Wonka was right, of course, because soon after this, there came a very hot day with a boiling sun, and the whole palace began to melt, and then it sank slowly to the ground, and the crazy prince, who was dozing in the living room at the time, woke up to find himself swimming around in a huge brown sticky lake of chocolate." He finished explaining.
Little Charlie sat very still on the edge of the bed, staring at his grandfather. Charlie's face was bright, and his eyes were stretched so wide you could see the whites all around.
"Is all this true?" The boy asked. "Or are you pulling my leg?"
"Charlie! Didn't you listen to me" Grandpa Joe faked being offended "Of course it's true! Ask anyone and they will tell you"
Charlie looked at his other grandparents without saying a word, but they knew exactly what he was about to ask.
"It's True," said Grandma Josephine
Grandpa George then nodded
"What?" Grandma Georgina was lost
"And I'll tell you something else that's true" Grandpa Joe leaned closer to Charlie and lowered his voice to a soft, creepy, secret whisper. "Nobody ever goes in… And nobody ever comes out."
"In where? From where?!" Charlie didn't understand a thing.
"I was talking about Wonka's factory, of course!" The old man ruffled Charlie's hair
"But what about the workers?" Asked Charlie "All factories have workers, right?"
"They indeed do, all factories have workers streaming in and out of the gates in the mornings and evenings" Grandpa Joe introduced a new part of his story "except Wonka's! Have you ever seen a single person going into that place — or coming out?"
Little Charlie looked slowly around at each of the four old faces, one after the other, and they all looked back at him. They were friendly smiling faces, but they were also quite serious. There was no sign of joking or leg-pulling on any of them.
"Well? Have you?" asked Grandpa Joe again
"I… I don't know, Grandpa," Charlie stammered. "Whenever I walk past
the factory, the gates seem to be closed."
"Exactly!" said Grandpa Joe snapping his fingers
Charlie was confused "But there must be people working there, Mr. Willy Wonka can't do everything by himself"
"Not people, Charlie. Not ordinary people, anyway"
"Then who?"
"Ah-ha… that's one of the many mysteries of the factory. You see… Mr. Willy Wonka's cleverness never stops surprising us.
"You see, Charlie," he said, "Around thirty or forty years ago there used to be thousands of people working in Mr. Willy Wonka's factory, it was around half of the town, and I was one of them. One day, all of a sudden, Mr Wonka had to ask every single one of them to leave, to go home, never to come back."
"But why?" asked Charlie, saddened. He couldn't be certain, but he had the strong feeling that that played a big part in his family's current situation
"Spies" Grandpa Joe lamented
'Spies?'
"Yes Charlie, spies. All the other chocolate makers, you see, had begun to grow jealous of the wonderful sweets that Mr Wonka was making, and they started sending in spies to steal his secret recipes. The spies took jobs in the Wonka factory, pretending that they were ordinary workers, and while they were there, each one of them found out exactly how a certain special thing was made."
"And did they go back to their factories and tell?" asked Charlie.
"They must have," answered Grandpa Joe, "because soon after that, Fickelgruber's
factory started making an ice cream that would never melt, even in the hottest sun.
Then Mr Prodnose's factory came out with a chewing gum that never lost its flavor
however much you chewed it. And then Mr Slugworth's factory began making sugar
balloons that you could blow up to huge sizes before you popped them with a pin
and gobbled them up. And so on"
"I was there when it happened, walking towards Mr. Wonka's office to show him something, I don't remember what it was" Then he imitated Wonka's voice "This is terrible! I shall be ruined! There are spies everywhere! I shall have to close the factory!"
Grandpa, you sighed and looked down in disappointment "Poor Willy Wonka went rogue and tore his silky mustache off"
"But he didn't do that!' Charlie said, "He still makes candies to this day!"
"Oh, yes he did. He told everyone that he was sorry, but they would have to go home. Then, he shut the main gates and fastened them with a chain. And suddenly, Wonka's giant chocolate factory became silent and deserted. The chimneys stopped smoking, the machines stopped whirring, and from then on, not a single chocolate or sweet was made. Not a soul went in or out, and even Mr Willy Wonka himself disappeared completely. Months and months went by," Grandpa Joe went on, "but still the factory remained closed. And everybody said: I miss Mr. Wonka. He was so nice. And he made such marvelous things. But he's finished now. It's all over."
"Then something astonishing happened. One day, then days after the closure, thin
columns of white smoke were seen to be coming out of the tops of the tall chimneys
of the factory! People in the town stopped and stared. "What's going on?" they cried.
"Someone's lit the furnaces! Mr Wonka must be opening up again!" We all ran to the
gates, expecting to see them wide open and Mr. Willy Wonka standing there to welcome
his workers back"
Grandpa Joe was so excited and proud, but his face completely changed with Charlie's question
"But you didn't get your job back, didn't you?"
"No, no one did. The great iron gates were still locked and chained as securely as ever,
and Mr. Wonka was nowhere to be seen, but the factory kept working, you could still hear the machines whirring again, and you could smell the melting chocolate in the air!"
Grandpa Joe leaned forward and laid a long, cold, and bony finger on Charlie's knee, and
he said softly, "But most mysterious of all, Charlie, were the shadows in the windows
of the factory. The people standing on the street outside could see small dark
shadows moving about behind the frosted glass windows."
"But shadows of whom?" said Charlie quickly, he didn't know if he was curious or uneasy
"Everyone wants to know, it's clear someone is working, but we have no clue of how, or what is doing it. No matter what, I trust Wonka, he always knows what he's doing"
"What is clear is that the factory was running," Said Grandpa Joe "and it's gone on running ever since, for these last ten years. What's more, the chocolates and sweets it's been turning out have become more fantastic and delicious all the time. And of course now when Mr Wonka invents some new and
wonderful sweet, neither Mr Fickelgruber nor Mr Prodnose nor Mr Slugworth nor anybody else can copy it. No spies can go into the factory to find out how it is made."
"But Grandpa, who?" cried Charlie, "who is Mr Wonka using to do all the work in
the factory?"
"Nobody knows, Charlie"
"But that's absurd! Hasn't someone asked Mr Wonka?"
"Nobody sees him anymore, remember? The only things that come out of that place are chocolates and sweets. They come out through a special trap door in the wall, all packed and addressed, and they are picked up every day by Post Office trucks."
"But Grandpa, what sort of people are they that work there?"
"My dear boy," said Grandpa Joe, 'The chocolate-making world doesn't always make sense; it doesn't need to. We know only one thing about them, they are very small" he closed one of his eyes and left a small space between his thumb and index, as to say they were tiny "The faint shadows that sometimes appear behind the windows, especially late at night when the lights are on, are those of tiny people, people no taller than my knee"
Little Charlie was amazed, a lot of ideas crossed his mind: were they very short people? There was a dwarf in town, but he wasn't that small. Children maybe? No, Mr. Wonka was a good guy, he wouldn't force children to work. Could It be that the candyman made his workers himself? He was a magician after all. What about robots? He heard his dad talk about how some factories started replacing workers with robots. Yeah, it was probably that.
"Charlie, dear," Mrs. Bucket called out from where she was standing down the ladder. "It's time for bed. That's enough for tonight"
"But, Mom…" Charlie pouted
"Tomorrow, my darling" insisted his mother
"It's okay, Charlie," Said Mr. Bucket "Grandpa Joe won't go anywhere, you can talk more about Mr. Wonka in the morning"
Sunday wasn't anything out of the ordinary, the Buckets had their bread and margarine breakfast, and then, after helping his parents wash the dishes and clean the house, Charlie had time for one of his little hobbies. Remember that Mr. Bucket had something for Charlie? Well, it was a defective toothpaste tube cap. When those pieces turned out wrong he could keep them, and for Charlie Bucket it was the closest thing he ever had to legos.
Using the caps, the boy was able to make little figurines, since his family couldn't buy glue, he used a lighter to melt the pieces together. So far he has made a dog, a tree, a few stick people, and a cute little gnome that was his favorite. Now he was trying to make a car, it was an ambitious project, but it was fun.
Charlie was very serious and focused, bent over the table like a shrimp and sticking his tongue out, carefully trying to make the wheel. And then Mr. Bucket loudly came into the house, waving a newspaper rather excitedly. Thank God the kid didn't burn himself.
"Have you heard the news?" he cried. He held up the paper so that they could see the
huge headline, which said:
"Wonka factory to be opened at last to lucky few!"
"You mean people are going to be allowed to go inside the factory?!" Grandpa Joe smiled like a child on Christmas day "Read us what it says — quickly!"
"All right, all right," said Mr Bucket, smoothing out the newspaper. "Listen."
"Evening Bulletin. Mr. Willy Wonka, the confectionery genius whom nobody has seen for the last ten years, sent out the following notice today: I, Willy Wonka, have decided to allow five children — just five, mind you, and no more — to visit my factory this year. The lucky five will be shown around personally by me, and they will be allowed to see all the secrets and the magic of my factory. Then, at the end of the tour, as a special present, all of them will be given enough chocolates and sweets to last them for the rest of their lives! So watch out for the Golden Tickets! Five Golden Tickets have been printed on golden paper, and these five Golden Tickets have been hidden underneath the ordinary wrapping paper of five ordinary bars of chocolate. These five chocolate bars may be anywhere — in any shop in any street in any town in any country in the world — upon any counter where Wonka's Sweets are sold. And the five lucky finders of these five Golden Tickets are the only ones who will be allowed to visit my factory and see what it's like now inside! Good luck to you all, and happy hunting! (Signed Willy Wonka.)"
Grandpa Joe laughed like mad "That man… that man is a genius! Just imagine what will happen now! The whole world will be searching for those Golden Tickets! Everyone will be buying Wonka's chocolate bars in the hope of finding one! He'll sell more than ever before! Oh, how exciting it would be to find one!'
"I don't know, Joe, it doesn't seem that fair… and I'm sure this is going to end up with tons and tons of tummy aches and cavities" Grandma Josephine was more skeptical
"Do you think I could win?" Charlie asked timidly at first, but he gradually got more and more hopeful "Do you think I could get all that chocolate and sweets for free? We could share it and It would be great!"
"Of course!" cried Grandpa Joe. 'Wouldn't it be great if Charlie opened a bar of chocolate and saw a Golden Ticket glistening inside!'
"It certainly would… "Grandma Josephine cut, saddened "But Charlie only gets a bar a year, the odds are not in his favor"
"You never know, darling," said Grandma Georgina. "Only one bar is needed to win, you have as much of a chance as anybody else… No! I'm sure you have more because you want it more!"
"I'm afraid that simply isn't true," said Grandpa George "The kids who are going to find the Golden Tickets are the ones who eat chocolate daily, the ones who can afford tons of bars, and the ones who cheat. Luck was never too fond of this family"
Charlie looked down disappointed, he knew Grandma Josephine and Grandpa George were right, the truth could be harsh, but getting false hopes would only hurt more when the inevitable fall came. He also knew his family wanted the best for him, everything they said was their way of protecting him, so he couldn't be upset. Even then, little Charlie Bucket kept a tiny bit of hope in his big heart.