Rising Dawn (Willy Wonka X OC)

The Fat, I Mean, First Ticket Finder

...he's even a real person. He's too whimsical, too mythical, too good to be true. This opportunity is too good to be true. Which makes me suspiscious. Why is he opening the factory doors now? My eyes narrow and I get lost in my thoughts. Why just five kids? Why did he say kids at all and not just people? Isn't it as equally likely that an adult would find a ticket? Isn't it more likely an adult would find a ticket rather than a child? An adult has their own, earned money to spend on candy whereas a child has to get it from an adult. Would the adult claim ownership to the ticket seeing as they technically paid for the bar if that were to happen? Would a parent really-

A small, warm hand slips into mine and I look down to see a pair of doey hazel eyes gazing affectionately up at me. Charlie. I am lifted from my reveries by the touch, it grounds me. I manage a little quirk of the corner of my mouth before a cold breeze lifts my hair and distracts me once again. I frown and glance at the broken glass pane to my left. Grandma Josephine pulls her shawl tighter around her and slides farther under the covers.

"I've been meaning to fix that. Charlie, could you help me?" I ask. He smiles and nods enthusiastically. Smiles come so easily to that boy, it's a wonder we're related.

"I'll go see if we have a piece of glass out back. Ok, sis?" It's my turn to nod as he spins and almost hops his way out the door. He's so full of energy and spirit. I can't ask him to start working, it would take all of that away.

"That boy is going to be crushed. The only kids who are going to find the Golden Tickets are the ones who can afford to buy a hundred candy bars a day. Charlie has too much expectation for only getting one bar a year," Grandpa George spitefully declares. I pull on my fingerless gloves and put my worn aviator goggles around my head. They help me work in the cold when the wind seems to dry out everything it touches. "Mark my words, the kid who finds the first Golden Ticket will be fat, fat, fat."

I leave silently, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with Grandpa George's wager. Charlie could not locate glass of any size around back so we resolved to tape a piece of an old blanket over the hole. It doesn't do much to keep the cold out, but the winds aren't quite so piercing. Most of the day is spent repairing various things that failed to remain repaired from the last time they were repaired. Dinner was the same as last night, I was serving the soup and made sure to give Charlie lots of solid pieces and myself mostly water.

We eat in silence until Mum breaks it, saying, "Charlie, Dawn, why don't you two give yourselves a quick once-over before heading to bed?"

"Alright, Mum," we say in unison. Charlie looks at me as I look at him and he laughs. I don't, but I want to. What has come over me? It must be all this Wonka business frivolity.

Charlie and I clear the dishes and wash them, working together in a perfect duo. After all the bowls and utensils have been put away, we each grab a cloth, wet it, and scrub our faces and really any part of our body we can reach without removing clothing. I finish first and make my way around the bed, saying goodnight. Charlie follows suit and climbs upstairs after me.

I lay, thinking and listening to the even breaths of sleep from my little brother. He's just such a happy kid. I don't get it, what's there to be happy about? Sure all this hype surrounding the Wonka business has got me a little excited, but the odds of us ever getting the chance to meet the Willy Wonka are one in a billion. Still, I can't help but hope. I'll admit, there is a little ball of excitement in the pit of my empty stomach that seems to grow a bit every minute since Charlie told us about Mr. Wonka's contest.

The next evening

It was another taxing day, I nearly fainted twice from exhaustion and hunger. Luckily, I was able to pick up a chicken breast today and some fresh bread from the store because I was paid extra for my swiftness in cleaning a child's playroom. Kids these days are so difficult to entertain, they need so many toys and they still aren't happy.

After a satisfying dinner of chicken and cabbage soup with bread, we all sit around the TV watching the news. A large boy stands there shoving handfuls of chocolate into his mouth and answering questions with a full mouth. His mouth is streaked with rich brown stains and he can barely be understood under his thick accent and around the chocolate.

"Told you he'd be a porker," Grandpa George leers.

"What a repulsive boy!" Grandma Josephine exclaims, no doubt recalling what angels little boys were in her day.

"Now there are only four Golden Tickets left," Charlie remarks from my lap.

"And now that they've found one..." Grandpa Joe starts.

"Things are about to get crazy," I finish with a glance at Charlie. He still has a hopeful grin on his face. Who knows, maybe he does have reason to be so optimistic. Maybe he will find a ticket under that chocolate on his birthday. Maybe he'll take Mum and they'll get to see the factory and the legend himself. Maybe I'll get to hear about it and the fantastical things inside. Maybe Charlie will get some chocolate and share it with us. Maybe I'll-

A small, warm hand slides into mine and I blink myself into awareness to see Charlie standing in front of me, looking on with patient hazel eyes. He pulls me to my feet, gathers his schoolwork, and puts it back inside his messenger bag. He says our "Goodnights" while I simply stand, swaying on tired feet. Charlie takes my hand and tugs me behind him as if I'm a child who needs direction and care. We get all the way upstairs before I remember I'm not the one who needs care or help. I gently remove my hand from his grasp and wipe a smudge on his cheek before tucking him into bed.

"Lay with me, Dawn." Charlie turns over and gives me begging eyes.

"Alright, lil' bro." I take off my boots and lay on top of the sheer covers. I wrap a protective arm around Charlie and he leans into me. He knows he is safe, and for the moment, I am too.

Thanks for reading!
xoxo, Tilly