Salted Chocolate

Mariella tried to sit as far away from her sister as possible, and ended up sandwiched between Charlie and Willy Wonka at the back of the boat. The boat started moving. Mariella couldn’t help thinking it was wonderful.

Mr. Wonka then dipped a ladle over the side of the boat into the chocolate, and handed it to her.

“Try this,” he told her with a cheeky smile. Mariella took a large mouthful of it.

“It’s delicious,” she told him, passing the ladle to Charlie. “Try this,” she told him.

Charlie tried some and repeated Mariella’s previous statement.

“That’s because it’s mixed by waterfall,” Mr. Wonka explained. “By the way, no other factory in the world mixes its chocolate by waterfa—”

“You already said that,” Veruca interrupted rudely. Mariella glared at her sister.

For a while Mr. Wonka was silent.

He finally said, “You’re all quite short, aren’t you?”

Mariella snorted.

“So are you. You’re only tall because you’re cheating,” he told her, glancing at her high heels.

Mariella was about to reply when she was interrupted by Violet.

Mr. Wonka argued with a few of the children until Charlie, who Mariella had developed a strange respect for, spoke up. From her perspective, he was polite and insightful — two qualities she liked very much. He asked Mr. Wonka, “Do you remember what it was like being a kid?”

“Oh boy do I… do I?” Mr. Wonka got a glazed look in his eyes. Mariella waved her hand in front of his face, and even resorted to stealing his hat. But Mr. Wonka didn’t react.

Mariella decided to ignore him and hoped he’d snap out of it until they started heading for a tunnel. She shook his arm while Charlie said, “Mr. Wonka, we’re heading for a tunnel.”

Mr. Wonka snapped out of his daydream. “Oh yeah… full speed ahead.” Then he started looking around. “Where’s my hat?”

Mariella took Mr. Wonka’s hat back off Joe Bucket’s head where she had put it, and gave it back to Mr. Wonka.

“I was trying to wake you up,” she explained. “Besides,” she smiled cheekily, “it looks better on Mr. Bucket.”

At this point the boat plunged down a tunnel, and Mariella hid her face in Mr. Wonka’s arm without thinking. She felt his arm wrap around her and her face was hidden in his chest. The ride was like a roller coaster. Mariella always hated roller coasters; she had never grown to like the feeling of going up and down on one. She felt so safe in his arms.

Mr. Wonka’s POV

Miss Salt was obviously scared, which was the reason she had hid her face in his arm. He usually couldn’t stand being touched, but there was something warm about her touch that made his stomach tingle. He instinctively wrapped his arm around her. This felt right.

The ride slowed and he felt disappointment when she pulled away. His arms suddenly felt empty.

Mariella’s POV

They passed several rooms, which were labeled Clotted Cream and Coffee Cream. The last one was Hair Cream.

“What do you use Hair Cream for?” Violet’s mum asked.

“To lock in moisture,” Mr. Wonka replied, primping his hair.

They passed an open room where a few Oompa Loompas were whipping a cow.

“Whipped cream,” Charlie said.

“Precisely,” Mr. Wonka said, giving that adorable childish smile of his. Wait, adorable? I did not just think that, did I? Mariella thought.

“That doesn’t make sense,” said Veruca.

Frowning, Mr. Wonka then turned to her and replied, “For your information, little girl, whipped cream isn’t whipped cream at all unless it’s been whipped with whips. Everybody knows that.”

The boat started hurling through the tunnels again, and Mariella used it as an excuse to hold on to Mr. Wonka again.

Mr. Wonka’s POV

She was holding onto him again. What was wrong with him? She was just a girl. He was tempted to make the boat journey much longer just so he could enjoy holding her, but he stopped himself and stopped the boat at the Inventing Room.

Mariella’s POV

The boat stopped much to her disappointment. Everyone very rudely pushed and shoved in an attempt to get out of the boat. Mariella, however, waited patiently and followed Mr. Wonka off. She was flattered, but smiled when he offered her his hand, and took it in her own as she got off the boat. She believed it was very gentlemanly and very nice of him to do that. His hands were warm through his gloves.

Stop, stop, stop, Mariella told herself mentally. She had got to stop thinking of him like that. He was kind to her, but there was no way he would be interested in her.