Ferris Wheel of DEATH!

“There’s that noise again,” Agnes informed her husband Murray as the Ferris wheel made another revolution.

“I heard it,” Murray said. Murray was a “Man’s Man,” and was prone to inexplicable acts of bravery, sometimes wore the same socks two days in a row, and was incapable of properly balancing the check book. Murray knew that part of being manly involved the ability to placate his overreacting wife on occasion. For example, when she heard phantom noises from a piece of machinery that gets inspected every day by the Six Flags theme park staff. He told her to relax and enjoy the view of the Connecticut River, and that everything was fine.

Of course, they WERE awfully high.

The assorted summertime smells of the park came wafting up to them on the warm breeze: fried dough, popcorn, and… what was that, Bratwurst? Murray’s stomach rumbled happily, reminding him to locate the Bratwurst stand after the ride.

“Remember when we used to come here when the kids were little, and we all used to ride the Ferris wheel together?” Murray tried to soothe his wife of 37 years; he was a master tactician.

“Yeah, and this Ferris wheel was probably old then, too,” Agnes said. If Murray was a master tactician, then Agnes was General Patton.

But she did bring up a valid point: how old was this thing? Oh sure, it was undoubtedly impeccably maintained, but everything ages; just ask his Gout afflicted foot. For the first time, seeds of doubt crept into Murray’s head, and he fidgeted nervously and thought, How the hell long is this stupid ride, anyway?

There was a tremor, a slight shift in the thousands of pounds of metal and steel.

Murray’s eyes quickly dilated to extreme proportions, like Jim Morrison’s, but with fear, “Did you feel that?”

“Feel what?”

Just as they reached the very top for the second time, the ride stopped completely, leaving Murray & Agnes lazily swinging in their cab 100 feet above the very distant ground.

Murray’s grip on his seat became a white-knuckle grip of terror, “We’ve seized!”

Agnes rolled her eyes, “I’m sure it’s nothing. It always stops halfway through, doesn’t it?”

Murray shook his head furiously, “No, no, no. No it doesn’t. Not ever. I tell you, there’s something wrong!”

His mind was already formulating plans of escape, ready to lead people to safety, just like Gene Hackman in The Poseidon Adventure or Charlton Heston in The Planet Of The Apes.

“If there was anything wrong, I’m sure the guy on the bottom would let us know,” Agnes said.

But Murray was lost in thought, “That damn, dirty ape.”

“What?”

There was another shift in the stationary Ferris wheel. It was almost imperceptible, but it was there; Murray could feel it. Sweat broke out on his brow as if he had a fever, and his eyes did the Jim Morrison thing again. One thought meandered around inside his skull, Even reliable cars break down occasionally. The law of averages states that every piece of machinery has to fail eventually; maybe the numbers finally caught up with old Murray and his wife.

Murray gulped hard, “Oh boy.”

“Calm down. That nice young man on the bottom will get us going again, you’ll see.”

No, Murray was positive he could feel the steel twisting under the intense strain. He could hear the screaming steel as various seams contorted and snapped; he could feel the shudder of the Ferris wheel beast as it died.

Then he realized the screaming steel was his own moaning, and the shuddering was him as well.

What would it sound like if the rivets blew? Would they make a sound at all, or would the force be so great that they were silent, and no one would know until the rivets slammed into the windshields of cars in the parking lot, hundreds of yards away? They were doomed for certain, and there was nothing anybody could do to stop the impending tragedy.

Murray had just recently retired, and hadn’t yet had the opportunity to do the many things he wanted to do as a retired person. There was so much he wanted to experience before he died; he wanted to tell his children and grandchildren how much he loved them all, he wanted to make love to his wife one last time, and he wanted to see the damn Red Sox beat those Yankee bums and win the World Series.

Agnes had told him that she had heard a peculiar sound when they first got on the ride, but he was a “Manly Man,” and had pooh-poohed her concerns as a weak womanly thing. He had forced her onto that deathtrap to show her how strong he was, and because of his arrogant pride he was going to be responsible for the death of his beloved wife.

Tears streamed down his face as he thought, Why couldn’t I have been more sensitive to her worries? Why did it have to end this way? Oh God, please!

A bird flew by, not ten feet from Murray & Agnes, and Murray screamed. The Angel Of Death was a seagull! The bird eyed them curiously for a moment before flying off.

His head was spinning. Indeed, the entire world was spinning; one giant ball of Magma spiraling ever closer to the sun. Spinning and spinning, oh God we’re all going to die!

No, wait. That was the Ferris wheel; it was moving again. When they reached the bottom, the nice young man helped them out of the cab, thanked them, and told them to have a nice day.

Once on Terra Firma, Murray regained his bravado. He indignantly pulled his arm away from the evil clutches of the Ferris wheel attendant and growled, “Get your filthy paws off me!”

Agnes was mortified, and scowled to voice her displeasure, “Honestly Murray, could you embarrass me any more? I’m never letting you stay up to watch those disaster movie marathons on TNT again! Let’s go!”

On the way out, Murray spotted a food stand selling hot Bratwurst sandwiches, but his stomach was no longer in the mood.


NOTE: In reference to Murray's wish to see the Sox finally beat the Yanks, please keep in mind this was written before '04. Thanks