‘Oh-h-h!’ Charlie gasped. ‘For a second, I thought . . .’
‘I know what you thought, Charlie . . . And by the way, I’m awfully glad you’re with me. How would you like to come here alone . . . as I did . . . as I had to . . . many times?’
‘I wouldn’t,’ said Charlie.
‘There she is!’ said Mr Wonka, pointing. ‘No, she isn’t! . . . Oh, dear! I could have sworn I saw her for a moment right over there on the edge of that dark patch. Keep watching, Charlie.’
‘There!’ said Charlie. ‘Over there. Look!’
‘Where?’ said Mr Wonka. ‘Point to her, Charlie!’
‘She’s . . . she’s gone again. She sort of faded away,’ Charlie said.
They stood at the open door of the Elevator, peering into the swirly grey vapours.
‘There! Quick! Right there!’ Charlie cried. ‘Can’t you see her?’
‘Yes, Charlie! I see her! I’m moving up close now!’
Mr Wonka reached behind him and began touching a number of buttons.
‘Grandma!’ Charlie cried out. ‘We’ve come to get you, Grandma!’
They could see her faintly through the mist, but oh so faintly. And they could see the mist through her as well. She was transparent. She was hardly there at all. She was no more than a shadow. They could see her face and just the faintest outline of her body swathed in a sort of gown. But she wasn’t upright. She was floating lengthwise in the swirling vapour.
‘Why is she lying down?’ Charlie whispered.
‘Because she’s a Minus, Charlie. Surely you know what a minus looks like . . . Like that . . .’ Mr Wonka drew a horizontal line in the air with his finger.
The Elevator glided close. The ghostly shadow of Grandma Georgina’s face was no more than a yard away now. Charlie reached out through the door to touch her but there was nothing there to touch. His hand went right through her skin. ‘Grandma!’ he gasped. She began to drift away.
‘Stand back!’ ordered Mr Wonka, and suddenly, from some secret place inside his coat-tails he whisked out a spray-gun. It was one of those old-fashioned things people used to use for spraying fly-spray around the room before aerosols came along. He aimed the spray-gun straight at the shadow of Grandma Georgina and he pumped the handle hard ONCE . . . TWICE . . . THREE TIMES! Each time, a fine black spray spurted out from the nozzle of the gun. Instantly, Grandma Georgina disappeared.
‘A bull’s eye!’ cried Mr Wonka, jumping up and down with excitement. ‘I got her with both barrels! I plussed her good and proper! That’s Vita-Wonk for you!’
‘Where’s she gone?’ Charlie asked.
‘Back where she came from, of course! To the factory! She’s a Minus no longer, my boy! She’s a one hundred per cent red-blooded Plus! Come along now! Let’s get out of here quickly before the Gnoolies find us!’ Mr Wonka jabbed a button. The doors closed and the Great Glass Elevator shot upwards for home.
‘Sit down and strap yourself in again, Charlie!’ said Mr Wonka. ‘We’re going flat out this time!’
The Elevator roared and rocketed up toward the surface of the Earth. Mr Wonka and Charlie sat side by side on their little jump-seats, strapped in tight. Mr Wonka started tucking the spray-gun back into that enormous pocket somewhere in his coat-tails. ‘It’s such a pity one has to use a clumsy old thing like this,’ he said. ‘But there’s simply no other way of doing it. Ideally, of course, one would measure out exactly the right number of drops into a teaspoon and feed it carefully into the mouth. But it’s impossible to feed anything into a Minus. It’s like trying to feed one’s own shadow. That’s why I’ve got to use a spray-gun. Spray ’em all over, my boy! That’s the only way!’
‘It worked fine, though, didn’t it?’ Charlie said.
‘Oh, it worked all right, Charlie! It worked beautifully! All I’m saying is that there’s bound to be a slight overdose . . .’
‘I don’t quite know what you mean, Mr Wonka.’
‘My dear boy, if it only takes four drops of Vita-Wonk to turn a young Oompa-Loompa into an old man . . .’ Mr Wonka lifted his hands and let them fall limply on to his lap.