It Must Be Believed To Be Seen

The Nut Sorting Room

"Now, now, please remember to stay behind the railings," ordered Mr. Wonka as he joined the back of the group.

They were in a large, circular room with railings all along the outside edge. A narrow, metal staircase situated to the right of them led down to a shallow pit, obstructed by a small metal gate.

Em watched in amazement as she looked down upon hundreds of squirrels working furiously, all sat neatly on small wooden stools around the edge of the room, a large, dark hole in its center. She joined Charlie who was gripping the metal railing tightly, leaning over for a better look.

"What're they doing?" he questioned, his eyes locked on one of the small creatures. Em placed a steadying hand on his shoulder as he leaned further forward.

"They're shelling nuts!" declared Mr. Salt, clearly not believing his eyes.

Em took a closer look, watching in disbelief as one of the squirrels picked up what looked like a walnut, gave it a hard tap on the edge of its stool and cracked it open with ease, depositing the contents into a small basket at its feet.

"These squirrels are specially trained to shell walnuts without breaking them," announced Mr. Wonk proudly, coming to lean nonchalantly on the railing next to Em.

"Why not use Oompa Loompas?" queried Mrs. Teevee, her eyes narrowing as she looked at the scene. Mike mirrored Charlie, stretching up on his tiptoes to get a better look.

"Because only squirrels can get the whole walnut out every time," shrugged Mr. Wonka. "And an Oompa Loompa would never be able to tell a bad nut from a good nut without shelling it in the first place."

Em watched a squirrel toss a walnut into the center of the room without a second glance, the nut bouncing slightly and disappearing down the deep hole. The squirrel reached methodically for another one and cracked it open.

"See?" Mr. Wonka grinned, gesturing, "aren't they wonderful!"

"Daddy, I want a squirrel," ordered Veruca, looking up at her father expectantly, her impudent hands clamped tightly round the railing. Em resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"Here we go again," muttered Mike under his breath, Charlie shifting uncomfortably beside Em, releasing the railing and dropping his hands to his side.

"All right, sweetheart, all right," simpered Mr. Salt, dusting a speck of dust off his immaculate suit. "Daddy'll get you a squirrel as soon as we get home."

"No," her voice was full of hostility, her hands balling into fists as she glared at her father, "I want one of those squirrels."

"Very well," he nodded, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. "Wonka, how much for one of the squirrels?"

"They're not for sale," Mr. Wonka replied automatically, his eyes locked on one of the squirrels as it discarded a bad nut.

Mr. Salt sighed and took an authoritative step towards the chocolatier.

"Name your price, Wonka."

"She can't have one." He shook his head simply and looked at the man, a pleasant smile on his face. Em felt the group tense, waiting for the explosion that was sure to follow. Her and Charlie took a subconscious step back.

Veruca took a step towards Mr. Wonka, her grey eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Who says I can't?" she challenged.

"I do," answered Mr. Wonka, turning to face her, his confidence unwavering.

"But I want one," she insisted, taking another step forwards.