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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1516346-Betting-World
Rated: E · Short Story · Family · #1516346
A bet my cousin and I make while in Disney World
“Ah, kin’t ya tell another story,” Charlie said yawning. Sighing, he leaned on the railing, his arm slumping over it. His fuzzy eyebrows dropped to his eyelids, and he puckered his lips, face scrunched up. A lemon face.

         I patted his head and smiled. Wooly hair slid across my hand, and a dab of grease clung onto it. “First of all, don’t use too much grease, and second, I haven’t made anymore stories.”

         Charlie sighed again, his face glowing red, his pupil half concealed from his eyelids. “Why? Why kin’t this ride come any faster?” And he raised his feet and stomped on the ground.

         “Not again,” I said, shaking my head. Heck, everyone would be embarrassed too if they had a munchkin, but this munchkin is the most annoying character in my life, and now he’s in this line with me. Could this get any worse, God, for the fifth time?

         I watched him flail his arms in the air. Thank God not many people frolicked too close to him. Almost hit me too with his left fist that I felt the wind his fist pushed. I turned my back towards the crowd. I stuck my hand in the air. Steady. Steady. Now. Whack.

         “Yeow!” Charlie yelped as he cupped his nose. He swayed to the left, right. Left. Right. He glared at me, his eyes glistening, widening, his eyebrows launching towards his upper forehead, and he groaned—groaned like a bear for sure. “Why’d ya do that?”

         I rubbed my index finger, feeling the pulse from it. Darn, stung my finger, that nose. “Maybe you don’t understand Pooh, but I can’t stand rides like these. Wanna know why?”

         “If I say yes, ya won’t hit me?”

         I whipped my head to the right, then left, glaring at the pipes clinging to the ground and hearing the roars of the water. I sniffed my nose to stop my nostrils’ flaring and looked at him eye level. “This is why Pooh!” It’s nonsense! Total nonsense! Only idiots like these rides, you hear me.”

         “Ya don’t have to be an idiot to like these rides, Undrae.”

         “I’m afraid you have too.”

At once Charlie stuck out his finger and poked my chest, his eyebrows dropping at an angle. “No ya don’t ya hear. In fact, I bet ya’ll scream in the Tower of Terror.”

         My eyebrows dropped, and my teeth clenched. “I won’t!”

         He shrugged and grinned as if he killed his enemy. Confident too. “If ya win, after we go back to Unca Henry and Auntie Brenda, we’ll go to the Animation Studio.”

         “Good. Go on.”

         He stuck a finger and waved it in the air. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. But if I win, we’ll go to the Fantasmic show. Deal?”

         Well, if he isn’t a gambler, little wretch, and after I taught him for Chrissake not to gamble for anyone, or at least for Christ.

         “Deal!” I said, extending my hand to make a hand link with his. “I’ll show you.”

         The door screeched as it slid open. One by one, people stepped toward the conductor. Step. Step. Step. Stop.

         “How many people?” the conductor asked.

         “Two, sir” I said.

         He whipped out his hand and pointed at the door. “Go on.”

         “Alright, finally!” Charlie said.  He raised his fist as if he won a gladiatorial competition and entered the door. Then, total darkness.

         “Guess I’ll go,” I said. I stepped toward the door, my pride exalting me. Sweat came out of my forehead, and my heartbeats synchronized with the chatter. What kind of ride? Why so popular? Closer. Closer. Closer.

         A continuous buzz snapped me out of my trance. I climbed the stairs two by two, turning my head both left and right. There I spotted Charlie on the sixth row, pulling the handlebar to his body. “There you are.” I reached the sixth row and sat next to him on the second to last seat on the right.

         “Don’t ya think it’s too small to be a movie sim?” Charlie said.

         “Yeah, I guess.” My hands clenched on the handlebar and pulled it to my hips. I looked up. The shaft was like Monstro’s throat, and we were Pinocchio. “The concept of this ride is familiar.”

         “The concept?”

         “Yeah. Don’t know what though.” Thought he played me smart with that bet, that schemer. With my pride encouraging me, I glared at Charlie and laughed. “Ready to lose?”

         “No way!”

         I grinned hard—hard enough my cheeks started to ache. “I already know what this ride does, so there’s no way you’ll win.”

         “Kin’t tell for sure, kin ya?”

         “We’ll see about that, now will we.”

         “Please keep hands and feet in the ride the entire time.” The conductor said. “Thank you for coming to the Tower of Terror, and enjoy the ride.”

         Darker. Darker. Darker. Total darkness, as if an artist glazed my eyes with soot. The ride hummed a low-pitched roar. My heart beat harder. Pressure pricked and tickled my feet, and I stiffened my body as the wind blew against my chest. I looked up. The roof grew in the rate of a sloth munching on leaves.

         “Want to give up now?” I said.

         Charlie glared at me, his eyebrows dropping to his eyelids and smiling. Man, one could see his teeth in this pitch-black area if a dump. “Aren’t ya?”

         My face twisted into an ugli fruit, my left brow cocking, my eyes widening like an anime character. No fear? No doubt? He changed no doubt since our last family reunion.

         Stop. There the ride seemed attached to the peak, dangling. The continuous buzz replaced the chatter, and everyone—well, at least everyone except Charlie and I—cocked their heads and faced the front. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Bam.

         “What the…” I said, flinching. Force pressing into my lungs. One bounce from the seat and then the roars of the ball bearings. The wind pushing against my face. The roof shrinking. My teeth clenching. The ever-powerful gravity lifting my arms from my seat and pricking my feet. My heart beating. Harder. Harder.

         “Whoo-hoo! I said. I turned to Charlie and grinned. ‘You still think you can beat me?”

         He returned the grin. “Not in my life, Undrae!”

         “Well, you better kiss my shoes now!” To the Animation Studio. No way will I lose. Not in this familiar ride.

         Screeches. The ride skidded. More screeches. Hisses. I swayed forward, then back. Forward. Back. Inhaled as if my lungs started to collapse from the pressure. “Guess I win.”

         “Don’t smile until the ride’s finished,” Charlie said.

         I smiled anyways. Who cares? I won. Beat him at his own bet. What’s not the smile about?

         Bam. The ride roared. Louder. Louder. I leaned back and closed my eyes. The wind. The screams. Gravity pressing against my body. The great rush of adrenaline rising in me. The roof growing.

         “Think ya gonna win now?” Charlie said.

         I shut my mouth. Why should I answer? Nothing’s going to stop me, and that’s a fact. Heck, even the world knows it.

         The seats skidded, screeching. The seats bounced as the ride attached itself to the peak again. Well, the screams stopped, and the ride hissed like steam over my head. I opened my eyes and turned to Charlie, whose eyes widened like Naruto’s eyes. At least I know it wasn’t over.

         Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Someone in front of us whistled “Row, Row, Row Your Boat,” and the person next to me (I’m sure a guy sat there) scratched his throat. Nothing but a tune of a classic. Not even a blinking light. “Of all time in the world, don’t tell me it’s stuck.”

         A screen of blue light flashed in front of us. I stared at it, hoping something entertaining my pop up. The sound of static perked my ears. Waves flow through the once blue, now gray screen.  In the middle appeared a figure, although the waves distorted it. The waves faded, and the once distorted screen became viewable.

         A mess of white hair—the kind people see from Albert Einstein—froze in the middle. Static flew behind it. A black and white clip of Albert Einstein. What’s not to laugh at?

         Einstein’s hair twirled around and disappeared. Well, all of it except for a few strands at the upper portion. On the bottom laid a skull wearing the wig. Diamonds lay over its eyes, and a studded gem clung to its chin. Each eye resembled a cat’s eye. On the skull’s forehead was etched in blood, “Your life is at an end!” The skull laughed—laughed as if it was a sociopath and I was the victim.

         The skull. The laughs. So loud. A sharp pain enveloped in my ears. My hands squeezed my ears. My vision starting to faint. Fainter. Fainter. Hurt so much. I screamed.

         The laughs stopped after a few seconds of torture, and the screen faded into a blue light. Then, light no more.

         “Yes,” Charlie said, raising his arms in the air.

         You didn’t win you boob. You just got lucky. Gosh, the laugh. I bit my thumb, and my eyebrows formed an angle.

         The pressure pushed my chest once more. The ball bearings, roared, and the roof shrank the moments the seats past the flashing lights. The wind. Skidding. Screeches. Hisses.

         “Thank you for riding the Tower of Terror,” the conductor said. “Please exit towards the trail on the right. Have a nice day, and I hope you come back to Disney World to ride the Tower of Terror again.”

         The handlebar lifted from my hips. One by one mothers, their children, their husbands, and their friends stepped of the ride. Lights flashed around the shaft, and people’s chattering rattled in my ears. Must be the next victims of the Tower of Terror.

         ‘Well, let’s get out of here,” Charlie said, jumping off his seat. He stretched his back and pulled his shirt down. He turned to me and grinned. “Nice try.”

         “Yeah,” I said smiling, my eyebrows forming an inward arch, my cheeks blushing.

         He stuck his index finger in the air and grinned harder than before, giggling. “But a bet’s a bet. Want to go on it now?”

         Wow, how much he changed, from losing all the time to winning a bet. I must say, I admire him for that. Maybe he’ll be a millionaire. Maybe.

         I grinned and jumped off my seat and dusted my legs. Then I gave one sniff—dust flew into my nostrils, flaring them—and gazed at him. I patted his shoulder. My cousin. “Sure.”



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