ρυяε sωεεт ιмαgιηαтιση

The River Cruise

Mr. Wonka led us down alongside the river to a dimly lit part of the chocolate room. Suddenly, a huge pink boat in the shape of a seahorse—probably made of candy—emerged from around the river, stopping in front of us. Mr. Wonka's face was void of emotion as it arrived. I wondered what he was thinking.

The Oompa-Loompas who faced the seats where we were to sit, started giggling and laughing, looking at us with amused and giddy expressions.

Violet asked snootily, smacking her gum still, "What's so funny?"

Mr. Wonka said with his own amused smile, leaning down a little to say in a hushed voice, "I think it's from all those doggone cocoa beans."

He then straightened his posture, looked at us all, and stated inquisitively, "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 rested his gaze onto mine, and I blushed deeply under his attention.

Mrs. Beauregarde then said in an overly-flirtatious tone, "You don't say."

Mr. Wonka's focus shifted from mine to hers, an uneasy, awkward feeling sweeping across his demeanor. He swallowed, looked at the boat, and said, "All aboard."

The guests all filed onto the boat, with myself being the last to get on. Mrs. Beauregarde had saved him a seat in hopes of Mr. Wonka sitting next to her.

But when Mr. Wonka stepped on, he took his place in the back next to Charlie. He held his hand out to me, gazing into my eyes.

I smiled and took his hand, stepping onto the boat with ease, thanks to his help. He let go of my hand and I faced the chocolatier to make sure he was safely on. I sat in the middle, Willy on my right and Charlie on my left.

When we were all settled, Mr. Wonka shouted, "Onward!"

He glanced at me and smiled minutely, leaning over to grab something. He brought it up and then leaned over the side of the boat. I cocked my head in curiosity.

He straightened, revealing a pink ladle filled the river's frothy chocolate. He offered it to me and said, "Here. Try some of this. It'll do you good. You look starved to death."

I grinned and took the ladle, drinking a drink of the liquid chocolate, the warmth of it traveling down my throat pleasurably.

A delighted moan voiced itself from my lips inaudibly. Mr. Wonka's eyes widened a little at that, and I covered my mouth in embarrassment, murmuring, "It's delicious. Thank you, Mr. Wonka."

I noticed a gleam in Mr. Wonka's eyes when I complimented his chocolate. Just above whisper, quiet enough so only I could hear, he said, "Please, call me Willy."

I grinned and murmured, "Okay, Willy."

I handed the ladle to Charlie, who sipped it, and grinned ear to ear with satisfaction. "It's great."

Mr. Wonka—Willy, I corrected—then reiterated with a raised hand, "That's because it's mixed by waterfall."

He then, pointing a finger in the air knowingly, raised voice for all to hear. "The waterfall is most important. Mixes the chocolate, churns it up, makes it light and frothy. Oh, by the way, no other factory in the world m—"

Veruca interrupted disrespectfully, "You already said that."

Willy's content mood was replaced with a saddened, annoyed one. He lowered his hand, his fingers making his gloves squeak again.

Everyone continued to stare at him. I noticed that he grew uneasy with all of their stares on him. But he seemed to regain confidence.

He leaned back a little, raised his head cockily, and said rather randomly with a smirk, "You're all quite short, aren't you?"