Just a Spoonful of Sugar, Chapter 19
Chapter 19.
Chapter 19: Another Angle
Later that same afternoon, Belinda stood outside the factory gates on the street. She had contemplated going back home and trying to find something to occupy herself. There was not much left for her to do; without a job, she was pretty much split between being at home and hanging around the outer perimeters of the factory.
Like Tamara, Belinda had very few friends to speak of, but instead of occupying her time with concerns about her own dwindling social life, she was more or less concentrated on her roommate’s whereabouts.
It was clear to Belinda that the younger woman had no real friends in this town. Tamara had moved here less than a month before she had relocated. After only a few weeks, Belinda had managed to memorize the other woman’s schedule, and could guess where she was going to be at any given hour of the day. Although she had worked in her chosen field for several weeks, she had, since getting fired tried to play off that she was still working. After seemingly close observation, it was obvious that she was not.
Belinda knew that Tamara’s time seemed to be split evenly between Bill’s candy shop, Hudson’s thrift store, and their apartment. The only people Tamara seemed to associate with were men who were already taken or far too old for her.
The overall essence of Tamara’s life seemed to be dull bordering on boring and Belinda had drawn some rather twisted conclusions about her roommate’s activities since her disappearance. Perhaps, it was for that reason that Belinda was determined to find out specifically where Tamara had run off to.
Of course, at the same time, she could not help but ponder why it was that Tamara Jenkins had settled here in the first place. After all, aside from Willy Wonka’s factory, there was absolutely nothing of any interest going on in this town. Of course, the factory was reason enough for her to have moved there, but no one really had to know that. Perhaps Tamara had had a similar motivation in mind and there actually existed something to the supposition that she was in love with Willy Wonka herself. It seemed obvious that the basis of her arguments the other night were nothing more than a useless attempt at diverting Belinda’s focus from her project.
A frown abruptly extended its way across her face, as she contemplated how Somerdale had a larger social scene and even better employment options. It was more than clear to her way of thinking that Tamara could have done better than just selling candy part-time.
Belinda took a deep breath as she wound her hand around one of the black bars that separated her from the internal confines of the factory’s courtyard. As her gaze rested on the highest smokestack, her expression took on an almost dreamy and faraway look. It was no secret that she always got that way when she would look at this particular place and right now another thought was cursing haphazardly through her mind.
If only there was a way for her to get inside.
She continued to hold tightly to the bars, her fingers dipping into the area beyond the gate. A smile spread its way across her face at the thought that the air on that side was different somehow than that which she as breathing. Although the gap that existed between the iron bars was not exactly narrow, it was still not wide enough for a full-grown woman, or even a child for that matter, to squeeze their way through.
Her thoughts shifted to the balloons that she had hung there several days ago. Smiling, she acknowledged the fact that they were now gone. At that moment, only a small amount of the blue confetti from the Slugworth wrappers remained on the ground.
Perhaps that meant that her clever means of adoration had been taken to a special place in the chocolatier’s living area. He would no doubt choose a place of honor, she thought as she ran her hand slowly up against the metal bars. He had to, what man would not be flattered by such an overt displays of affection?
Taking a deep breath, she started to walk slowly away from the gate in order to make her way back in the direction of her apartment building. The sky overhead had taken on a cold and overcast feeling and while it was colder than usual, for some reason she liked it that way. I wonder if William likes the weather right after a rain shower, she pondered as she felt the coolness of the breeze waft against her face.
With a self-satisfied smile, she continued to walk, her thoughts drifting back to her apartment where her next parcel lay waiting for her to bring to the factory. Of course, she had already left one there that morning, the heart-shaped Marshmallow Round packages carefully tucked inside of it, as well as a letter telling him what her favorite songs were and what colors she loved to dress in.
This idea had been her next step towards getting his attention, yet she was beginning to grow indignant at having been ignored after all the effort she had painstakingly made for him. He had to have at least received one or two of the parcels she had left at the factory gates.
Why would he not answer her letters? She asked herself with some traces of annoyance. Did he not love her?
Instead of pondering these questions any further, she spotted movement at the far end of the esplanade. Concealing herself in the shadows, she watched as a teenager with dark blond hair was walking towards where she was now standing.
A satchel was draped casually over his shoulders and his eyes seemed to be staring straight ahead. He passed her, not even a word emerging from between his lips. Either he had not seen her or he was ignoring her. Concluding it was the former as opposed to the latter, she stared at his back as he walked the length of the street.
For whatever reason, this boy looked vaguely familiar. As he continued on his way, she found herself staring after him. He was dressed casually in blue denim plants and a red pullover. His hair was tousled as it blew in the cool breeze. As he reached the front gate of the factory, he stopped walking and stood staring up at the single word that stretched across the large iron gate.
Instead of calling out to him, Belinda remained concealed in the shadows. Despite her conscience that was telling her not to pressure the boy, she started to follow him. Using the shadows to conceal her actions, she slowly walked towards the front gates, her gaze still on him.
At that moment, he was carrying his belongings over to a bench and was now digging around inside the satchel.
After several minutes, she saw a golden top hat shaped key chain being pulled from it and nodding knowingly, she broke into a broad smile. This was no mistake, and it would be this particular boy who would ultimately help her find her way into the Wonka factory.
She watched as he slipped the keys into the pocket of his jacket before retrieving the bag and once more swinging it over his shoulder. He probably figured that no one was around to see him, she thought. It seemed a logical idea since the streets at this hour were pretty much deserted.
The question was no longer about ‘how’ she would get inside, the question was ‘when’, and the thought of actually seeing Willy Wonka made her giddy with excitement. She would not have to trouble herself any longer with just delivering letters. Perhaps she could read her poetry to him in person and let him speak loving words to her.
Oh, to hear the sounds of his voice addressing her, she thought with a lovesick smile on her face. He must have a smooth and sexy voice. It had to be the case, she concluded, because a coarse sounding man would somehow not even match the exquisite candy he made.
At that precise moment, all rational thought left her, and she stared at the back of the boy’s head. It was an advantage to her to know that he was completely oblivious to the fact that she was even there. It seemed ironic since her gaze had not left him since he had walked by.
Belinda Wonka, she thought with a smile. That had such a nice ring to it. It would make her family gasp in astonishment for her to show up at her family gatherings with this particular man on her arm.
Nothing else seemed to matter at this point except for her to achieve the goal of finally ensnaring the one and only Willy Wonka.
When the teenager remained stationary, however, her eyes narrowed in impatience. Lead me inside the factory you silly boy, she almost spoke, but somehow managed to stop herself when a young girl rushed past her in the direction of the factory. She looked to be heading straight towards the boy her hair flying and the gingham style dress she wore flapping casually in the breeze.
Maybe she was just heading in that direction, she thought as her attention shifted back to the boy. She watched as he started to walk away from the gate, his steps slow and deliberate as he made his way down the sidewalk that led along the northern-side wall of the factory grounds.
Suddenly, the realization hit Belinda as to the identity of the boy. He was the local child who had found the last of the five one Golden Tickets nearly three and a half years ago. At the very least, he reminded her of the boy whom she had read about in the paper all those years ago, albeit he was now several years older. He was also a bit taller and his hair was several shades darker, but otherwise, he was the spitting image of the boy from the contest. What was his name? She asked herself. Was it Chuck, or Chance, or Charlie…That was it, the boy had to be named Charlie.
She remained where she was, all the while hoping that he would inadvertently lead her straight into the factory. What she did not expect, or even anticipate, was to hear the young girl who had passed by moments ago calling out the boy’s name, thus causing him to stop, and turn around.
It had to be a girl, Belinda thought sourly as the boy smiled and waited for her to catch up with him. So much for trying to trail the boy. Boys that age seemed to have one thing on their minds, and that was simply because of those God-forsaken hormones. This probably meant that the two kids would stand around until early spring talking about every topic under the sun.
Instead of continuing to grouse about her misfortune Belinda opted to waiting for them to end their dialogue and part company.
She inched her way closer, but still had to strain her ears in order to listen in on their conversation. Perhaps I ought to make the best of it, she concluded. These teenagers might actually give her an idea as to how she could smuggle herself into the factory.
At the very least, she could wait until they were finished and then resume following Charlie. There was no question remaining. Belinda Hutchinson was hopeful that Charlie would be the one to lead her straight into the factory, and into the arms of Willy Wonka.
Chapter 19: Another Angle
Later that same afternoon, Belinda stood outside the factory gates on the street. She had contemplated going back home and trying to find something to occupy herself. There was not much left for her to do; without a job, she was pretty much split between being at home and hanging around the outer perimeters of the factory.
Like Tamara, Belinda had very few friends to speak of, but instead of occupying her time with concerns about her own dwindling social life, she was more or less concentrated on her roommate’s whereabouts.
It was clear to Belinda that the younger woman had no real friends in this town. Tamara had moved here less than a month before she had relocated. After only a few weeks, Belinda had managed to memorize the other woman’s schedule, and could guess where she was going to be at any given hour of the day. Although she had worked in her chosen field for several weeks, she had, since getting fired tried to play off that she was still working. After seemingly close observation, it was obvious that she was not.
Belinda knew that Tamara’s time seemed to be split evenly between Bill’s candy shop, Hudson’s thrift store, and their apartment. The only people Tamara seemed to associate with were men who were already taken or far too old for her.
The overall essence of Tamara’s life seemed to be dull bordering on boring and Belinda had drawn some rather twisted conclusions about her roommate’s activities since her disappearance. Perhaps, it was for that reason that Belinda was determined to find out specifically where Tamara had run off to.
Of course, at the same time, she could not help but ponder why it was that Tamara Jenkins had settled here in the first place. After all, aside from Willy Wonka’s factory, there was absolutely nothing of any interest going on in this town. Of course, the factory was reason enough for her to have moved there, but no one really had to know that. Perhaps Tamara had had a similar motivation in mind and there actually existed something to the supposition that she was in love with Willy Wonka herself. It seemed obvious that the basis of her arguments the other night were nothing more than a useless attempt at diverting Belinda’s focus from her project.
A frown abruptly extended its way across her face, as she contemplated how Somerdale had a larger social scene and even better employment options. It was more than clear to her way of thinking that Tamara could have done better than just selling candy part-time.
Belinda took a deep breath as she wound her hand around one of the black bars that separated her from the internal confines of the factory’s courtyard. As her gaze rested on the highest smokestack, her expression took on an almost dreamy and faraway look. It was no secret that she always got that way when she would look at this particular place and right now another thought was cursing haphazardly through her mind.
If only there was a way for her to get inside.
She continued to hold tightly to the bars, her fingers dipping into the area beyond the gate. A smile spread its way across her face at the thought that the air on that side was different somehow than that which she as breathing. Although the gap that existed between the iron bars was not exactly narrow, it was still not wide enough for a full-grown woman, or even a child for that matter, to squeeze their way through.
Her thoughts shifted to the balloons that she had hung there several days ago. Smiling, she acknowledged the fact that they were now gone. At that moment, only a small amount of the blue confetti from the Slugworth wrappers remained on the ground.
Perhaps that meant that her clever means of adoration had been taken to a special place in the chocolatier’s living area. He would no doubt choose a place of honor, she thought as she ran her hand slowly up against the metal bars. He had to, what man would not be flattered by such an overt displays of affection?
Taking a deep breath, she started to walk slowly away from the gate in order to make her way back in the direction of her apartment building. The sky overhead had taken on a cold and overcast feeling and while it was colder than usual, for some reason she liked it that way. I wonder if William likes the weather right after a rain shower, she pondered as she felt the coolness of the breeze waft against her face.
With a self-satisfied smile, she continued to walk, her thoughts drifting back to her apartment where her next parcel lay waiting for her to bring to the factory. Of course, she had already left one there that morning, the heart-shaped Marshmallow Round packages carefully tucked inside of it, as well as a letter telling him what her favorite songs were and what colors she loved to dress in.
This idea had been her next step towards getting his attention, yet she was beginning to grow indignant at having been ignored after all the effort she had painstakingly made for him. He had to have at least received one or two of the parcels she had left at the factory gates.
Why would he not answer her letters? She asked herself with some traces of annoyance. Did he not love her?
Instead of pondering these questions any further, she spotted movement at the far end of the esplanade. Concealing herself in the shadows, she watched as a teenager with dark blond hair was walking towards where she was now standing.
A satchel was draped casually over his shoulders and his eyes seemed to be staring straight ahead. He passed her, not even a word emerging from between his lips. Either he had not seen her or he was ignoring her. Concluding it was the former as opposed to the latter, she stared at his back as he walked the length of the street.
For whatever reason, this boy looked vaguely familiar. As he continued on his way, she found herself staring after him. He was dressed casually in blue denim plants and a red pullover. His hair was tousled as it blew in the cool breeze. As he reached the front gate of the factory, he stopped walking and stood staring up at the single word that stretched across the large iron gate.
Instead of calling out to him, Belinda remained concealed in the shadows. Despite her conscience that was telling her not to pressure the boy, she started to follow him. Using the shadows to conceal her actions, she slowly walked towards the front gates, her gaze still on him.
At that moment, he was carrying his belongings over to a bench and was now digging around inside the satchel.
After several minutes, she saw a golden top hat shaped key chain being pulled from it and nodding knowingly, she broke into a broad smile. This was no mistake, and it would be this particular boy who would ultimately help her find her way into the Wonka factory.
She watched as he slipped the keys into the pocket of his jacket before retrieving the bag and once more swinging it over his shoulder. He probably figured that no one was around to see him, she thought. It seemed a logical idea since the streets at this hour were pretty much deserted.
The question was no longer about ‘how’ she would get inside, the question was ‘when’, and the thought of actually seeing Willy Wonka made her giddy with excitement. She would not have to trouble herself any longer with just delivering letters. Perhaps she could read her poetry to him in person and let him speak loving words to her.
Oh, to hear the sounds of his voice addressing her, she thought with a lovesick smile on her face. He must have a smooth and sexy voice. It had to be the case, she concluded, because a coarse sounding man would somehow not even match the exquisite candy he made.
At that precise moment, all rational thought left her, and she stared at the back of the boy’s head. It was an advantage to her to know that he was completely oblivious to the fact that she was even there. It seemed ironic since her gaze had not left him since he had walked by.
Belinda Wonka, she thought with a smile. That had such a nice ring to it. It would make her family gasp in astonishment for her to show up at her family gatherings with this particular man on her arm.
Nothing else seemed to matter at this point except for her to achieve the goal of finally ensnaring the one and only Willy Wonka.
When the teenager remained stationary, however, her eyes narrowed in impatience. Lead me inside the factory you silly boy, she almost spoke, but somehow managed to stop herself when a young girl rushed past her in the direction of the factory. She looked to be heading straight towards the boy her hair flying and the gingham style dress she wore flapping casually in the breeze.
Maybe she was just heading in that direction, she thought as her attention shifted back to the boy. She watched as he started to walk away from the gate, his steps slow and deliberate as he made his way down the sidewalk that led along the northern-side wall of the factory grounds.
Suddenly, the realization hit Belinda as to the identity of the boy. He was the local child who had found the last of the five one Golden Tickets nearly three and a half years ago. At the very least, he reminded her of the boy whom she had read about in the paper all those years ago, albeit he was now several years older. He was also a bit taller and his hair was several shades darker, but otherwise, he was the spitting image of the boy from the contest. What was his name? She asked herself. Was it Chuck, or Chance, or Charlie…That was it, the boy had to be named Charlie.
She remained where she was, all the while hoping that he would inadvertently lead her straight into the factory. What she did not expect, or even anticipate, was to hear the young girl who had passed by moments ago calling out the boy’s name, thus causing him to stop, and turn around.
It had to be a girl, Belinda thought sourly as the boy smiled and waited for her to catch up with him. So much for trying to trail the boy. Boys that age seemed to have one thing on their minds, and that was simply because of those God-forsaken hormones. This probably meant that the two kids would stand around until early spring talking about every topic under the sun.
Instead of continuing to grouse about her misfortune Belinda opted to waiting for them to end their dialogue and part company.
She inched her way closer, but still had to strain her ears in order to listen in on their conversation. Perhaps I ought to make the best of it, she concluded. These teenagers might actually give her an idea as to how she could smuggle herself into the factory.
At the very least, she could wait until they were finished and then resume following Charlie. There was no question remaining. Belinda Hutchinson was hopeful that Charlie would be the one to lead her straight into the factory, and into the arms of Willy Wonka.