Author's Note: With how slowly I update, I was hoping that I wouldn't need a second note that says I hope you're all still staying safe.


Willy made it half a dozen steps into the zoo before his mind caught up with his actions. He froze in place, hyper aware of the flow of people who navigated effortlessly around him as he stood in their midst. It had been...a very long time since he'd been out in public. His heart thundered in his ears and his knuckles whitened around his cane.

Breathe, he told himself. One breath. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. And began to process his surroundings.

Yes, people flowed around him, but not so many as he first thought. The walkways were wide and the zoo was not so crowded that anyone had difficulty avoiding the silly man who had decided to stand smack in the middle of the path. A few people did glance at him as they went by, but no one stared or gawked or glared or yelled, "oh my goodness it's Willy Wonka!" Most of them were families preoccupied with each other and paying no attention at all to anyone else. Willy took another long, slow breath. Then another. He rolled his shoulders and pried his fingers free of their death grip on the cane. He managed to move a few steps to the side, to sit on a convenient (and otherwise empty) bench. He looked around.

He had been to a zoo once, as a child. He was fairly certain that he had. But in his memory it was a thing of cold concrete and iron bars and sad looking animals pacing endlessly in small cages.

This zoo was nothing like his memory. This zoo was...beautiful. It had wide curving paths lined with benches and bushes and trees, the animal enclosures tucked neatly around the edges. It felt a bit like a park really, a park full of exotic creatures. Willy peered more closely at the nearest animals and realized that even the cages, if they could still be called cages, were more like artful wilderness islands. Oh, some still had bars, but more had moats or ravines or a series of clever hills, different ways to prevent the animals and the people from mingling while still providing the animals with a more natural, open habitat. Willy's own inventive nature was impressed.

He didn't know how long he sat there taking it all in, observing the people around him who were happily enjoying their families, experiencing being part of it all even from the isolated safety of his bench.

At last, he rose and took a tentative step. His head remained clear. The panic that had overwhelmed him earlier was gone. Willy felt a smile spread across his face as he strolled slowly but easily down the path. It felt...good to be outside, and to be here, enjoying a day at the zoo like any ordinary person.

He wandered aimlessly for a time, passing birds and bears and all manner of other animals until he came at last to the lions. The largest lion, the one with the most brilliant curling mane, was perched on a sunny rock that towered above the rest of his enclosure. His eyes were closed to slits as he held his head up to the sun, chin high, as if basking in the adoration of his loyal human subjects. The steady flick of his tail was the only sign that he was not completely asleep.

Amalda had said that the story about the lions was one of her favorites. Resting his arms on the railing, he tried to remember how it went.

"Look, look! It's the crownless king!" Willy jumped a bit at the sound of the young voice yelling so close to him. To his right, only a few feet away, a young boy was dragging his bemused mother forward. The child gaped at the lion in awe. "He saved them, mum. He saved all the other lions." His face fell. "And now he's stuck here."

His mother patted his shoulder indulgently. "It's alright, Joey. Remember, he's only waiting until the time is right for him to go home." Joey perked up at that.

"Excuse me, little boy," Willy said. The mother's eyes shot to him, and Willy stammered, "Ma'am. I mean," he blushed and tried again. "Excuse me, young master, I wonder if you could tell me where you heard that delightful story about the lion?"

The boy had shrank back a bit against his mother when he found a strange man addressing him, but he brightened at once after hearing Willy's question. "It's the best story, Mister!" he said enthusiastically. "See, it starts off with-"

His mother cleared his throat. "Now Joey, perhaps he'd like to read it for himself." She turned to Willy. "They sell it in the gift shop by the entrance, and the other two books too. You can't miss it, sir."

Willy nodded his thanks and the woman tugged her son away, promising that they would visit the tigers next.

He made his way back to the front of the zoo slowly, his eyes scanning every out-of-the-way corner as he walked. He didn't see Amalda at all, nor any other workers. He slumped a bit, disheartened. Maybe he could come back after he looked at the gift shop. If he lingered long enough, surely he would see someone who could tell him where Amalda was.

Entering the shop took another small act of courage. When was the last time he had been in a shop? Thankfully, it too was uncrowded and it only took a moment for him to get his bearings and notice the large display of children's books right at the front.

He picked up one of the books in his hands, studying the slender volume. "The Crownless King," the elegant gold title proclaimed, "by A.L. McCaine." Below it was a breathtaking drawing of a lion, looking very much like the one Willy had just seen, with a ray of sunlight illuminating the top of his head where a crown might sit. Willy paged through it reverently. There were more, equally beautiful pictures scattered throughout the book, with the story woven around them. Amalda's story.

That's why she had left the zoo. She'd become a writer. A storyteller.

He looked over the rest of the display. There were two other books, "The Walrus is a Wizard!" and "The Science of Monkey Business". Willy found himself grinning at the names. He grabbed a copy of each and brought them to the counter.

The woman behind the register had graying hair that was pinned up into a bun, a few tendrils escaping to curl on her neck and around her surprisingly young face. "Oh these are so popular nowadays, sir," she told him, making casual conversation as she rang up his purchases and carefully wrapped and bagged them for him. "I hear the author's already got another one coming out soon. I don't know how he does it so quickly!"

Willy's brows lifted. "He? The author is a man then?"

The woman blinked at him, and then a soft smile graced her face. "Bless your heart, I suppose he could be a she. And why not? A woman can do anything a man can do, can't she?" There was a subtle challenge in her tone, but Willy just gave her a smile and a nod.

"Well said, madam!"

She blushed faintly, and Willy learned forward conspiratorially. "I don't suppose you'd know where I might find said author?"

"Oh!" she said. "Oh, I don't think anyone knows that. There's such a clamor for these books, the poor dear might get mobbed, man or woman. But," she added coyly, "there's a little bookshop just down the street. If anyone could help you, surely they could."

Willy gave her a nod of thanks. "Wonderful!" He touched his fingers lightly to his hat. "A good day to you, madam."

She blushed a bit more and actually bobbed a small curtsy. "You as well, sir."

Willy exited the shop feeling exuberant. He'd had an actual conversation with a real person and it had been...pleasant. He had a lead on where he might find Amalda and he'd learned what she'd been up to. And he couldn't wait to read each and every one of her stories.

He whistled softly to himself, the bag with his purchases swinging gently at his side as he exited the zoo.

Mr. Wilkinson found him at once, pulling the car to a slow stop at the curb, but Willy merely passed his bag with the books inside and explained to Mr. Wilkinson where he was headed next. As an afterthought, he left his cane with the car as well.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he strolled down the street, breathing deeply of the cool air and enjoying the warmth of the sun. He felt so relaxed, so...free. His fears that something dreadful had happened to Amalda drifted away with the gentle breeze. Part of him couldn't believe she was actually a published author, and on the other hand it made perfect sense and was certainly well-deserved.

It wasn't long before he spotted the bookshop and he barely hesitated before stepping inside, his confidence bolstered by his earlier successful interactions. A sprig of tiny bells jingled above the door at his entrance, but otherwise the shop was quiet.

Willy looked around. It wasn't a large shop, and like the zoo it had a large display of A.L. McCaine's books at the front. In fact, much of the shop seemed dedicated to children's books and the shop decor reflected that, with colorful streamers, brightly painted walls, and stuffed animals and toys decorating the shelves in between the books.

Willy loved it instantly. He wasn't necessarily a fan of children per se, but he did enjoy making people happy and the joy of children was especially infatuous. This was a shop designed to make children happy.

A burst of childish laughter rippled from deeper within the shop and Willy crept forward quietly, peering around the shelves for the source of the laughter.

There, tucked into one of the back corners, sat half a dozen children. They were perched on rugs or pillows or blankets, arranged in a semi-circle around someone who was holding up a book and reading to them animatedly.

No, not someone.

Amalda.

Willy paused at the last shelf, keeping mostly out of sight so as to not distract her. It was one of her own books she was reading, accompanied by animated gestures and outlandish voices that had Willy grinning with as much delight as the children.

She looked...good. He found himself studying her features, looking for any sign of the trauma, both physical and mental, that she had experienced at his factory. Even when they'd just met, during her brief interview, she'd seemed uncertain, anxious and a little tired. Now...now she was fairly glowing, brimming with exuberance. Willy's smile softened and he crossed his arms, leaning against the shelf as he watched her interact confidently with the children.

He knew the moment she noticed him. With a small start, she almost lost her place in the story, but then she smiled and even gave him a wink, her eyes twinkling as she quickly resumed her tale. When it drew to a close a few minutes later, the children cheered and immediately begged for another, but she only made a shooing motion at them. It seemed to be a familiar routine, as the children easily dropped their protests and began to chatter amongst themselves as they headed out of the shop. Willy stepped aside to let them pass, but they paid him no mind.

As the bell on the door finally jingled away into silence, Willy found Amalda staring at him, her hands folded over the book on her lap, a slight smile on her face. He took a few steps closer, only now realizing that he had no idea what to say.

"I was worried about you," was what came out. He wondered if his face looked as surprised as Amalda's.

"Oh?" she asked.

"Ms. Stolp told me that her last letter came back undeliverable."

She gaped at him. "Belinda wrote to you?" She set the book aside and stood up, frowning. "Oh dear, I didn't leave a forwarding address. I should have written to her sooner but…" She blinked at him. "Belinda wrote to you?" she said again.

He shifted, feeling suddenly awkward. "We've been doing a bit of consulting," he explained. "She knows pastries. I know candy." He hesitated. "I think Charlie's a bit relieved that I have someone other than him to bounce ideas off of," he added with a small chuckle.

A shadow flitted across Amalda's face and was gone. "It's good to have friends," was all she said. Willy wondered why he felt a bit guilty.

"So," he began, struggling to think of what to say. "You work in a shop now!"

Amalda laughed and gestured to the shelves around them. "I own a shop now, can you believe it?"

Willy felt his eyebrows lift in surprise. "And you tell stories."

She beamed at him and gave a happy little sigh that somehow made his toes curl. "And I tell stories."

He had so many questions. So many things he wanted to ask her and tell her and...why hadn't he thought this through more?

She was peering up at him and he had the uncanny feeling she could see it all written across his face. She laughed again. "The shop closes in half an hour. Come to dinner with me and I'll tell you all about it."

He froze, a block of ice dropping into his stomach. Dinner? In a restaurant? He'd never...he couldn't...could he? But dinner with Amalda...

Seeing his reaction, she hurried to add, "There's a cafe right next door. Quiet. Casual. I think you'd like it, truly."

Breathe, Willy reminded himself. Breathe. He gulped. "Dinner. Yes. Next door. I-I'll just go...wait there?" He sounded uncertain even to himself, but Amalda merely nodded, taking his arm and guiding him toward the door. He felt himself relax at how easy, how natural, it felt to have her hand resting on his arm.

She led him outside and pointed to one of the nearby buildings. "There, Julia's. She knows me, so if you give her my name, she'll take good care of you until I'm done here." He stared at the cafe, anxiety warring with his desire to spend time with Amalda. She touched his cheek gently, drawing his attention to her. "Okay?"

Her fingers were so warm against his face. He caught himself leaning his head into her touch and turned it into an awkward smile and a nod. "I'll be waiting." Goodness, he sounded like a breathless schoolgirl.

But she merely smiled back and he felt his own expression relax into something more natural in response, before she slipped back inside and left him standing alone on the sidewalk.