"Pectus Pectoris Infractus"

(Part I)

He should have known that it would be him. He should have expected it. It was an inevitability and yet Charlie had been taken by complete surprise. Perhaps it was Charlie's desperate insistence that everything go perfect on this all important day that had hindered what he should have known. Or perhaps it was because that for the last ten years he had refused to allow himself to even think of this unwelcome visitor. What ever the reason was, Charlie Bucket had been taken by complete and utter surprise by the sudden appearance of the very last person in the universethat he had wanted to see at his doorstep on his wedding day, none other than Mr. Willy Wonka.

Once he was past the initial shock, Charlie's first reaction was to slam the door (or maybe his fist) in Wonka's face. Instead, he settled for a glare that would have frozen over the nine levels of hell and growled between tightly clenched teeth, "What the hell are you doing here?"

Willy Wonka's usual pallor paled even more before adopting a blossoming pink in a shameful blush. Wonka averted his eyes towards the doorframe of Charlie's apartment , working his jaw in an attempt to speak. After several failed attempts, he finally managed to produce a small, yet incredibly fake smile.

With his eyes still averted to everywhere but Charlie's face, Willy tried to stammer out something akin to a cohesive sentence. "W- well . . . I . . . I simply wanted to . . . to offer my er . . . ah congrat- congratulations to the. . . um . . . 'groom-to-be.' N-no harm in that . . . is there?"

Charlie wasn't sure what to hate more at that moment, Wonka's plastic smile or his pathetic attempt at a lie. Charlie ground his teeth even tighter, his anger getting the better of him.

"Cut the shit, old man. I don't have time for either you or your stupid games. So if you could just get lost so that I can forget that I even saw you today, it would be greatly appreciated . . ."

Charlie then made to shut the door but was blocked by both Wonka's cane and hurried protests.

"W-wait! Charlie! Please! Please . . . it's . . . it's important. Please Charlie . . . it's so very important . . . please . . .please, just let me explain . . .?"

Charlie stopped trying to shut the door and found himself, much to his annoyance, considering Wonka's request. The sound of a nosey neighbour opening a door to investigate the cause of the ruckus hurried Charlie's decision and he roughly grabbed Wonka by the arm to drag him inside before anyone could see who his visitor was.

Wonka stumbled slightly but managed to catch himself (with great difficulty) before he fell. He finally righted himself and leaning heavily on his cane, he turned to face Charlie for the first time since his arrival.

Willy Wonka had changed since the last time Charlie had seen him, nearly ten years earlier. His cane that had once been for show now seemed to serve a genuine purpose as his former mentor, once so graceful in his movements, now moved with a noticeable limp. His once immaculate appearance seemed to be in disarray as well, as his one time flamboyant attire seemed dull and shabby, hanging loosely over a frame that had once filled each article to perfection. His hair was still long, brushing against his cheeks, but it had lost it's luster and it's once dark auburn shade was now streaked with the gray that had terrified Willy so much. But all of this combined was not as startling as the change in Willy's face. It was not because of the faint wrinkles that had appeared around his mouth, no, Willy's skin and structure was as beautiful as it ever was. It was his eyes. Willy Wonka's incredible violet eyes, like shards of the purest amethyst, had once sparkled with playful mirth, and an otherworldly intensity had once burned within them, causing them to seemingly glow of their own accord as if with some inner, phantasmal light. But that was before Charlie had left the factory. Before Charlie had left him. Now the eye's that gazed back at Charlie were mere shells of their former brilliance. They were dead. Their sparkle had dulled and they radiated nothing now but an unfathomable sadness and desolation that Charlie knew he was the cause of.

Charlie hardened his heart against the guilt that tried to float to the surface. He would not feel pity for this man. Not after what he had done. Not after he . . .

Charlie folded his arms in a tight embrace across his chest and leveled a glare once again at Willy Wonka, "Well? What is it that's so important?"

Willy paused as if running through different courses of action before he finally responded with a sad smile. "Charlie, please . . . it's been so long since I saw you last. Would . . . would it be alright to ask you how you've been fairing first?"

Charlie felt his resolve melt somewhat but a high level of apprehension remained. Surprisingly, Charlie felt himself nod an affirmative. "I've been doing just fine."

Willy seemed to brighten slightly, "That's great, Charlie . . . just great." Willy of course knew that Charlie was lying. Charlie was as poor now as he had been at twelve years old, before he had found the golden ticket, before he had lived with Willy Wonka in his fantastic chocolate factory . . .

Wonka looked away from Charlie and limped towards the kitchen table for additional support, using it as an excuse to see more of the dilapidated apartment. Charlie, however, was wise to Wonka's bad habit of nosiness and promptly blocked his view.

Wonka looked put out but continued on with his false cheer nonetheless. "So you're getting married Charlie. That's . . ." His eyes turned downcast once more, "That's wonderful."

"Yes it is."

Willy merely nodded at Charlie's abrupt answer before continuing. "No . . . no doubt you'll be having lots of children?"

Wonka realized his mistake too late and recoiled as Charlie's face clouded with an anger he had seen only once before . . .

"How . . . how dare you! Don't you DARE talk to me about . . . my children. . .you . . . you . . ."Charlie was so angry that he could barely form the words to express it. How dare that bastard speak of his children! He had no right!

Willy's eyes had widened in horror but he moved swiftly to deflate Charlie's anger as it most certainly wouldn't do for his former protégé to murder him before he had chance to say his piece. "C-Charlie, please! I'm . . . I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. . . really . . . I never . . ."

Charlie felt his anger subside once again to be replaced with weariness. "WHAT is it that you want then? Just tell me and get out so I can get on with what was supposed to be the happiest day of my life."

Willy's jaw clenched even as he relaxed from the now passed threat of an attack on his person. This was turning out to be every bit as difficult as he had imagined it would be. "Alright . . . Alright."

Willy moved towards a rickety chair at the kitchen table and sat down with a wince. Charlie moved as well so that he was closer to his former mentor but refused to sit down, enjoying how the differences in height made Wonka seem so much smaller. Yes, this was much better . . . at least he had thought it was, for the next words that Wonka spoke made his knees scream for support.

Willy stared somewhere past Charlie, somewhere past this world before and as he spoke, and Charlie knew it was something desperate . . .

"Charlie . . .," then Wonka's eyes, infused with an emotion that Charlie had never seen before, that chilled him to his very being, met and locked with his, "I'm dying."

If Charlie had been hit by the force of all the seven seas at that moment, he would have felt no difference. He reeled with the shock, Willy Wonka, dying? It . . . It just wasn't possible! His mind swam with a torrent of emotions before one, a familiar one, found it's way to the surface. Anger.

"And . . . And just what is the point of telling me this! Do you expect me to pity you now! No. That's not it, is it. You want forgiveness, don't you? You come here with some sob story about your impending death, thinking that you can shame me into forgiving you-"

Wonka raised a gloved hand for peace, his eyes shaded with something dark. "Charlie, please. I did not come here for your forgiveness." The violet orbs darkened further, "You've already made it perfectly clear a long time ago that you don't ever intend on forgiving me."

Charlie continued to take deep breaths but did not make any move to comment, so Willy pressed on. "Charlie, the reason I've come here today is to ask you to take over the factory."

Charlie couldn't believe what he was hearing. Had he heard correctly? Even after all that had happened, Wonka still wanted him to take the factory?

"Why . . . Why me?" And then the venom returned, "Surely you've found another heir to molest by now?"

Charlie watched with grim satisfaction as the colour drained completely from Willy Wonka's face and his hands began to tremble. Charlie had just revealed the rotten core of the animosity between them; there would be no false ignorance of it any longer.

Charlie waited with cool patience as Willy finally recovered enough to speak. "C-Charlie . . . I . . .I deserved that. . . I did. But I . . ." Wonka's voice cracked as his eyes began to shine with unshed tears, his carefully held rein on his emotions slipping, "I never . . . I never intended to hurt you, Charlie. I loved-"

The sudden force of Charlie's fist striking the table nearly expired Wonka then and there with the shock.

"Don't you dare start crying! You have no right at all! If anyone has the right to cry it's me! Damn it, Willy, I was only a child! I had no idea. . ."It was a lie but Charlie felt no shame in lying to this man at that point. . .

Willy had finally had enough. He knew that he was never going to get anywhere with Charlie like this. It had already crossed his mind several times to just get up and leave but he knew he couldn't. It was imperative that Charlie agree to take over the factory. He was already in the thick of it now anyway, he would have to press onwards with his plea to Charlie.

Wonka got unsteadily to his feet with the support of his cane to challenge Charlie's glare, and it was only then that Willy realized that Charlie had grown to be taller than him. A wave of sorrow washed over him then as he realized how much he had missed in Charlie's life. How much he had missed Charlie . . . But then the matter at hand flashed through his mind and he managed (if only just) to corral his desperate emotions once more.

"Charlie . . . I know- . . . I know that you're angry and gosh darn it you have every right to be."

Charlie made to interrupt then but Wonka pressed on in earnest.

"If you want to yell at me Charlie by all means do so, but please Charlie, please, tell me that you'll take over the factory first?"

Charlie wasn't sure what to make of this, he had a pounding headache and his heart felt like it was trying to break free of his rib cage. What did he say? What did he do?

"I don't see why I should. Why should I do you any favours?"

Wonka was growing desperate now. "But it would be doing a favour for yourself, Charlie! You're about to start a family aren't you? Where will you live? Here! You deserve better than this Charlie! And how will you get the money to feed your family? You hardly have enough money to feed yourself-"

"I don't need charity from the likes of you! You never learn do you! Money isn't everything Wonka! Believe it or not, my family was perfectly happy before you ever came along, and I'm perfectly happy living now the way I did then! But you just can't understand that can you? You never could . . ."

"Charlie, please, be reasonable! I didn't mean to diminish your family or the life you had, but don't you want what's best for your family, Charlie? You can't deny that you want to give your family a better life than this. . ."

Charlie growled knowing that Wonka was right. He did want his family to have a better life than this. What decent husband would he be if he had wanted otherwise?

He glared at Wonka, loathing to admit that Willy was right. "Why me though!"

Wonka was quick to answer this time. "Because you're the only one who can, Charlie! I taught you everything I know! Everything! There's no one else in this entire world who is capable of running the place! There's no else who I can trust!"

"Yes, but-"

"-And the Oompa Loompas, Charlie! Please, if no one else, think of them! Someone must keep the factory open if only for them! They have nowhere else to go! And you know that I can't sell the factory to just anybody, they'd have the Oompa Loompa's shipped off to goodness knows where to have goodness knows what done to them!"

Charlie could feel his resolve slipping, but there was still one very big problem with the whole deal . . .

"But you will be everywhere I go. You are in everything in that factory, I'll never be rid of you-"

Wonka was completely exasperated. "Then change it! Tear the place to pieces if that's what you need to do! Just please . . . please say you'll do this!"

Wonka had certainly prepared for this, Charlie had to give him that much. The candy man had countered all of Charlie's arguments and although Charlie could scarcely believe it, he found himself seriously considering Wonka's proposal.

"I . . . I need time to think about this. I need to talk it over with Sarah."

Wonka was nodding with enthusiasm, his gray streaked locks bouncing in time. "Yes, yes of course. Take the time you need. But please . . . keep in mind that my time is limited, Charlie, and I'll have to know as soon as possible. Do you still remember my number?"

Charlie refused to answer that question."I'll let you know within the week. If you don't hear from me in that time, than my answer is no."

Willy gave a trembling nod, "T-Thank you, Charlie." And for a long moment they simply gazed at each other, a million unsaid words dancing between them, before Wonka finally tore his eyes away.

"I . . . I guess I'd better leave you to get ready for your wedding. I'm sure you have nothing to do and all the time in the world to do it . . . ah . . . I mean, strike that-"

"-Reverse it."

Willy nodded again, the slightest hint of genuine smile flickering across his face as he made his way, with the aid of his cane, towards the door to leave. "Yes, well . . . good luck, Charlie." He opened the door and made to exit when-

"Willy?"

Wonka turned towards Charlie once more, his dark brows raised in question, "Yes?"

"I still hate you."

Wonka's eyes clouded with an unnameable emotion before he gave one last nod and closed the door behind him, leaving his former lover to sink to the floor in complete and utter mental exhaustion.

"I hate you . . ."