Free Twisted Endings: 5 Disturbing Stories by Timothy D. McLendon Page B

obscenities transcend all languages. Shit, fuck, bitch — they all have universal meaning. I wasn't hearing straight, that's for damn sure! I was beginning to lose hope as we kept spinning out of control. I grabbed my daughter's hand and held it for comfort, mine and hers.
    “Call the paramedics!” English at last!
    The audience below looked horrified — except one guy — he had a smile on his face like he was ready to throw a goodbye party for our departure to hell. I thought about everything wrong I ever did. I remembered the time in kindergarten I shoved a red crayon up Betty Martin’s nose. In eight grade I sold my magic flying skateboard for a hundred bucks to Billy Newsome. In college I slept with my psych teacher and told her I’d love her forever. I dumped her the same day she gave me an ‘A’ for the class, and told her no one could ever love her.
    Then all I could see were brilliant strobes of red and orange lights. I closed my eyes tighter than my own wallet and opened them again. I realized no one was looking up at us on the ride. Deep in the center of the crowd is where all the attention was focused.
    The ride began to slow down.
    Slower and slower.
    I had the first premonition we would be okay. I swore I'd never do anything wrong again. I had to be there for my daughter. Her protector.
    Crystal appeared to be smiling, almost laughing. My angel. And I too began to laugh.
    We were in hysterics by the time the ride crawled to a stop. The surrounding passengers stared at us in utter disbelief.
    I glanced around again and realized everyone was running to the same area where I had seen the crowd gathered. I reached for my daughter’s right hand but she offered her left hand instead as we got up and walked toward the crowd.
    “What happened?” I asked one of the pimply-faced teenage workers that walked by.
    “I dunno, dude. I just work here." He shrugged and walked over to the teacup control booth, where he shut everything down and closed all the gates.
    I looked through the crowd and saw an ambulance drive away with red and orange lights flashing. 2:15 p.m. blinked on my watch like an impatient child. That was the first time I realized the Teacup Lady wasn’t there.
    “Make sure you find that bag,” a deep voice said from behind me. I saw three police officers discussing something important. “I don’t know if it had salt tablets, heart medication or rat poison in it and frankly, I don’t care,” said one of the officers. “We have an amusement park full of kids and the last thing I need today is for some kid to find those pills and end up hurt, or worse.”
    The officers agreed and split up.
    What bag? My bag? Salt tablets? Heart medication? Rat poison? No, no, no. Candy! Cupcakes! Cheerios! It had to be!
    Sweat raced down my face now. Had anyone seen the little stunt I pulled? Some big-mouthed kid had to have seen everything.
    I stood there, dumbfounded. I squeezed Crystal's hand, smiled at her and mentally prepared to admit my guilt to the police.
    A young mother with three kids brushed past me and approached the uniform in charge. “Excuse me, Officer. I was wondering if you could tell me what's going on?”
    “Yes Ma'am. One of the workers apparently had some heart trouble and had to be rushed to the hospital. Darn shame.”
    “Is she going to be okay?”
    “We can’t tell yet. Apparently she was on some type of medication. The last thing she was able to tell us is that someone stole it.” He paused for a second, deep in thought. "Those pills could be dangerous to a kid. Someone’s gonna have to answer for this," he said, stroking his holster.
    I gulped, big time.
    “Don’t worry, Ma'am. We've got it under control. I’m sure we'll catch whoever did this.”
    “Thank you, Officer. We’ll be going now.”
    “Good day, Ma'am.” And off he went.
    I never let go of Crystal’s hand and marched straight to the parking lot. I couldn’t stop looking over my