Trail of the Chupacabra: An Avery Bartholomew Pendleton Misadventure (The Chupacabra Trilogy - Book 2)

by Randel Stephen

“Yes, indeed.” Pappy wiped his bald dome with a handkerchief. “Mae Mae’s Voodoo Lounge is the real deal. Only place in town to get a shrunken head and a shot of whiskey at the same time.”

  “Great,” said Avery as he crammed an entire hot dog in his mouth, spackling a good portion of his unruly beard with mustard in the process.

  “Like, how long to get us there?” Ziggy suspiciously eyed the shriveled hot dog in his hands.

  “Say about ten minutes,” Pappy replied. “I know all the shortcuts.”

  “Well,” Avery began as he swallowed down his breakfast, “get moving. We have an important scientific conference to attend at midday. I will not be late. You hear me, Ziggy?”

  “Cool,” Ziggy said as he nibbled at the end of his hot dog before spitting the offending bite onto the sidewalk. “Like, that ain’t right, man.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Not natural. Like, how can you eat that? It’s, like, inedible, man.”

  “Everything is edible.”

  “Not, like, poison mushrooms.”

  “They’re edible. Once.”

  “I’m still not eating this, man.”

  “Shut up and get in the car,” Avery said as he crammed another dog into his face.

  “Off we go!” Pappy hollered as he climbed into the cab and started it up. A short while later the cab pulled up in front of a narrow single-story building flanked by empty lots on either side. Concrete foundations in the lots, overgrown with weeds, were the only remnants of what used to be buildings. Pappy pointed out the remains to Avery and Ziggy. “Some say Mae Mae’s magic is so powerful it held back the waters from the hurricane. It wiped out just about everyone but her. Some mighty powerful magic,” he said in a low, spooky voice. “So don’t you go getting on her nerves, you hear me? That witch can put a spell on you like that,” he said, snapping his fingers for effect. “Shrink your head, make your tongue swell up and toenails fall out, or worse. Now, when do you want me to come pick you fellows up?”

  “You’ll wait out front for us,” Avery replied.

  “The hell I will,” said Pappy. “Not in this neighborhood.”

  “Fine. Give us half an hour, then,” Avery said as he and Ziggy climbed out of the taxi. “Don’t be late.” Avery and Ziggy approached the building with caution as Pappy sped away in his taxi. “Let me do the talking,” Avery said to Ziggy as he pushed open the door. Ziggy nodded in reply. The unmistakable smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke accosted the two men as they entered the dark room. They were greeted by the suspicious stares of local patrons hunched over games of dominos and plastic cups of beer. It wasn’t the first drink of the day for most of them.

  “You want a beer or a shot?” a pretty young girl in a white dress asked from behind the bar. Avery sized up the child with the large Afro-styled hair, hardly more than ten years old, peeking over the top of the bar. To her right, a small sign read IF YOU DON’T USE PROFANITY, YOU WON’T OFFEND ANYONE. To her left, another read OUR HOUSE WINE IS WILD TURKEY.

  “It would be illegal for you to serve us alcohol,” Avery said. “You shouldn’t even be in here. How old are you?”

  “Old enough,” she replied. “What’ll you have?”

  “Shouldn’t you be in school?”

  “Grandma Mae Mae schools me right fine.” She reached for two plastic cups. “One-drink minimum before noon. Two-drink minimum after that,” she said as she filled the cups from a beer tap and placed them on the bar. The golden liquid that filled the cups was perfectly still. Not a bit of carbonation. “Four dollars,” she announced proudly.

  “Pay the girl,” Avery said to Ziggy. The skinny hippy fished a handful of wadded bills from his shorts and placed them on the bar. “Where can we find this Mae Mae?” Avery asked the pretty girl.

  “Why? You need a spell? Want to make someone fall in love with you?” she asked with a giggle. “Or maybe raise a zombie?”

  “No,” Avery replied.

  “You the police?” The bar suddenly went dead silent.

  “Hardly.”

  “I didn’t think so,” the girl said as she pulled a small revolver out from under the bar and placed it in front of her. The bar’s patrons turned their attention back to their games and libations. “The police don’t wear so much yellow. Why do you wear so much yellow, anyway?” She propped her elbows on the bar and placed her hands under her chin.

  “Why do you ask so many questions?”

  “Mae Mae says the truth is in the questions. You just have to ask the right ones.”

  “Does she? So, where can we find this Socratic woman?”

  “Oh, she’s no Socratic. She only votes for Democrats.”

  “Priceless,” Avery said as he began to fidget. “She can be found where?”

  “Follow me,” the little girl said as she placed the small pistol back behind the bar and led Avery and Ziggy toward the rear of the narrow saloon. “Right through here.” She pushed her way through some long strands of purple beads that separated the front of the building from the back. As he entered the back room, Ziggy’s eyes lit up when he saw the massive collection of voodoo inventory. Candles, incense, wooden masks, charms, spells, and all variety of strange and obscure paraphernalia lined the walls and tables.

  “Mae Mae,” the little girl called out. “You have visitors.”

  “Of course I do, child,” came a woman’s voice from behind a silk screen in the back of the room. “I’ve been expecting them all morning.” Behind the screen, the shadowy figure of a short, slim woman rose from a chair and stepped into view. Mae Mae was a beautifully preserved woman. Her refined and elegant features belied the true age of the voodoo priestess with long dreadlocks streaked with gray. She wore a long black dress. A necklace made of small animal bones encircled her neck. “You’re running late this morning,” she said to the two men. “I imagine we better make this quick. What can Mae Mae do for you?” she asked with a smile that revealed a gold-capped front tooth surrounded by perfect, ivory-colored teeth.

  “Like, you see, I’ve got this righteous shop back in Austin,” an overly excited Ziggy began. “Well, like, not as righteous as this place, but anyway, do you ship?”

  “Does this look like a post office to you?” Mae Mae asked Ziggy as she spread her arms with a flourish. “What you need, I have. What you buy, you carry. But I wasn’t speaking to you.” Mae Mae approached Avery. Her gait was so light and so effortless it appeared she was simply sliding across the floor. “You’re looking for something. Aren’t you? What is it Mae Mae can help you find?” she asked Avery.

  “Nothing you have in stock. He’s the lunatic obsessed with your voodoo and witchcraft,” Avery said, nodding at Ziggy, who was rummaging through a box of crystals. “I’m a man of science. I don’t have any time for this hocus-pocus. Empirical evidence. That’s what I need.”

  “Empirical evidence?” Mae Mae asked with grin as she picked up a small pile of chicken bones from a nearby table and gave them a toss. “Of what?” She examined the scattered bones. “A beast, perhaps?”

  “A cryptozoological specimen.”

  “A hidden beast?” she asked.

  “Sort of. They exist. I’ve just had a difficult time proving it.”

  “What sort of beast are they?”

  “Well, they’re most commonly referred to as chupacabras.”

  “Of course they are,” said Mae Mae as she tossed her bones again. “I see you’ve been searching a long time for these hidden beasts.”

  “You could say that.”

  “You’re close. You’re very close. The sign points to the spawning.”

  “Like, the bones told you that?” Ziggy asked as he pulled his attention away from a small voodoo doll. “Like, far out, man.”

  “Not the bones,” Mae Mae replied.

  “Then what?” asked Avery.

  “Over there.” She pointed to a copy of the local newspaper resting in a wooden rocking chair. “Section C, page six.” Avery snatched up the paper and flipped to Se
ction C.

  “Sports?” Avery asked.

  “Who’s leading the American League?” Mae Mae asked with a chuckle.

  “What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “Everything.”

  “You’re high as a kite, you crazy witch.” Avery tossed down the newspaper.

  “Am I?”

  “Decidedly.”

  “Like, hang on,” said Ziggy as he grabbed the paper and thumbed through it. “The Yankees are, like, five games up in the American League East. Best record in baseball,” he said. “But what’s that, like, got to do with anything?”

  “The chupacabra are very old and controlled by a powerful magic. In Haiti, when I was a child, my mother would warn me of them. She knew I had the vision. Mae Mae could tell when the demons would come looking for our livestock, and sometimes us as well. But they don’t always come. It always depends. Over time, I began to notice the pattern. The chupacabra only comes when the New York Yankees win the pennant.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Avery said. “You’re nothing but a quack.”

  “You’re really starting to piss me off, fat man,” Mae Mae said with a growl.

  “Like, don’t make her mad, dude,” Ziggy whispered. “She’ll, like, execute your toenails and stuff. So, like, Mae Mae? How do we know the Yankees will, like, win the pennant?”

  “We don’t. But the signs are all there,” Mae Mae said.

  “Like, in the bones?”

  “No. The Yankees have a five-game lead, they’ve been hitting for power since the All-Star break, and they’ve got the best bullpen in baseball. Plus, a strange man shows up at my door,” she said, staring into Avery’s eyes. “A man on a quest. A man looking for — what was it? — Empirical evidence. Yes. It is coming. Mae Mae can feel it. Feel it for certain. Now join me.” She sat down at the table and put away the bones. “Take a seat,” she said to Avery as she produced a set of cards and began placing them face up across the table. Some of the cards were right side up and some were upside down. When seven cards were spread out, she looked into Avery’s eyes. “What do you see?”

  “Well, I’d play the red queen on the black king,” Avery said as he sat down. “But then I think you’re stuck. Going to have to draw.”

  “This ain’t solitaire, fool,” Mae Mae said.

  “They’re, like, tarot cards, man,” Ziggy chimed in. “Bitchin’.”

  “The cards you’re referring to are the King and Queen of Pentacles. The queen suggests creativity and intelligence, while the king, which is inverted or reversed, speaks to your materialistic nature. This next card here, the Eight of Pentacles, reversed, reveals your dislike of hard work.”

  “Dude, these are hitting the nail, like, right on the head,” Ziggy said to Avery. “You’re, like, the laziest person I know. You know, like, hard work never killed anyone, man.”

  “Maybe, but I’m still not willing to take the chance.”

  “Here’s your real problem.” Mae Mae pointed to the next card. “The Seven of Cups. You’ve been unable to determine your path, unable to decide how to best find the beast. Am I right?”

  “Right on,” said Ziggy. “That’s, like, why we’re here for the monster conference and everything. To find out what to do next.”

  “The next cards reveal your answer,” said Mae Mae. “The Chariot. You will take a journey, a long journey. It will lead you to a strange and different land. But it won’t be easy — look here, the Two of Wands, reversed. You should be cautious. Avoid the temptation to be impatient, because the last card, the Moon, reveals deception and danger. Things on your journey will not always be what they seem.”

  “Creepy, dude,” said Ziggy.

  “Look, you old witch, this is fascinating, really it is,” Avery said sarcastically. “But we’re in a hurry.” He prepared to stand.

  “Remember what I said about impatience. Draw one more card for me,” Mae Mae asked. “The outcome of your journey.” Avery flipped over the top card on the deck. It was the Fool.

  “Looks like you’re coming with me, Ziggy.”

  “Awesome, man.”

  “No,” said Mae Mae. “The Fool reveals the result of your journey.”

  “Speak up, woman.”

  “Unlimited possibilities.”

  “Lady, you’re as prophetic as a Magic Eight Ball.”

  “Like, sorry, ma’am,” said Ziggy. “He, like, usually doesn’t act this way. Well, okay, maybe he does. It’s just that he, like, needs some caffeine. Or sugar. Or, like, probably both. But I love your, like, readings. I’ve been studying up on my cards and everything, but I don’t, like, got the gift like you, man. I mean ma’am.” Ziggy blushed.

  “Thank you, skinny one, but I wouldn’t be surprised if you do. Nor should you be surprised. Now leave. I’m tired,” Mae Mae said as she slumped in her chair. “You need to go. And you know where to go,” she said, gazing at Avery.

  “South?” Avery whispered. He didn’t mean to say it, he just did. Mae Mae nodded solemnly in agreement.

  “Find what you need to find. But be careful of what it is that you find. There is powerful magic taking place, Mr. Cryptozoologist. Things your science can’t explain. Things it doesn’t want explained.”

  “We’re out of here.” Avery got up and headed toward the door.

  “But, like, I haven’t got my stuff yet, dude,” Ziggy said as he looked around the treasure-filled shop. “I, like, got to get my stuff.”

  “You, my little hippy friend, return when your journey is over,” Mae Mae said to Ziggy. “Right now your friend needs your help. And the help of others.”

  “Like who?”

  “You’ll know when the time is right. Now leave me to rest,” she said as she closed her eyes.

  “Like, thanks priestess, dude,” Ziggy said as he scampered after Avery. As Ziggy blasted his way through the purple beads in the doorway, the pretty young girl in the white dress entered the room and stood behind Mae Mae’s chair. She laid her head on Mae Mae’s.

  “Mae Mae. Why you always messing with those white people’s heads?” she asked. Mae Mae laughed.

  “I sure do like using that one about the baseball,” she said as she leaned up and kissed the child. “The honkies buy it every time.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  It Isn’t Easy Being a B-List Monster

  Avery and Ziggy clambered out of Pappy’s taxi and surveyed the building in front of them. It was a long, one-story warehouse that had definitely seen better days. A printed sign out front bearing a Sasquatch logo announced Most Discreet Event. A large arrow pointed toward the front door.

  “Like, what gives with the sign, man?” Ziggy inquired. “I thought we were, like, looking for a monster conference.”

  “It’s self-explanatory,” Avery replied gruffly.

  “Oh, like, totally, man.” Ziggy scratched his head. “But, like, how?”

  “It’s an anagram.”

  “A who?”

  “An anagram, you burnout. The International Society of Monster Hunters and their event planners think they’re quite clever. They like to use anagrams to keep the attendees on their toes. Besides, it help keep out the riffraff.”

  “Riffraff?”

  “You know, reporters, police, Lutherans.”

  “Oh. So, like, how does it work?”

  “Just rearrange the letters into a different set of words,” Avery said as he adjusted his fanny pack.

  “Trippy,” Ziggy replied as he squinted at the sign. “Event…Discreet…Most!” He proudly proclaimed.

  “When we get inside, you shouldn’t talk to anyone,” Avery said as he rolled his eyes. “It means Monster Detectives. Rearrange the letters in Most Discreet Event, and you get Monster Detectives. Got it?”

  “Far out, man.”

  “Fortunately for you, I’m a master code breaker.” Avery plodded toward the door. “Follow me, stay close, don’t talk, and watch out for anyone suspicious,” he commanded.

  “What kind of sus
picious?”

  “Any kind. Place could be crawling with the Feds,” Avery said as they entered the building. Inside, the conference attendees were beginning to gather. Folding tables and chairs lined the main portion of room. Up front, a large projection screen with the Sasquatch logo greeted the audience. A young, pale woman dressed from head to toe in black and carrying a large silver crucifix scurried past Avery and Ziggy.

  “Suspicious,” Ziggy whispered to Avery as he nodded in the girl’s direction.

  “Follow me.” Avery headed toward the conference registration booth.

  “Suspicious,” Ziggy hissed as he noticed a tall man wearing a nose ring before following after Avery.

  “Pendleton, party of two,” Avery said to the young man behind the desk. Above the registration desk, Ziggy noticed a series of signs. The first one read No Kirk Tees Admitted.

  “Like, what does ‘No Kirk Tees Admitted’ mean?” Ziggy asked.

  “It’s an anagram,” the man replied as he searched through a list of conference attendee names.

  “Like, obviously, man,” said Ziggy.

  “It means ‘No Trekkies Admitted.’” The man checked off two names from his list, and grabbed two kits of conference materials and handed them to Avery. “Everyone wants to be the original Spock. Fights break out during the conference cocktail reception. You get drunken attendees running around ripping off other people’s pointy plastic ears and everything. Not as bad as the brawls you see in the conference Quidditch tournament, but close.”

  “Bummer, dude,” Ziggy said dejectedly. “I, like, left my broom at home. It’s, like, super-sweet.” Ziggy looked up at the signs again. “What about ‘No Creole Proprietors’? I, like, thought we were in Louisiana, man.”

  “No police or reporters.”

  “Far out. What about ‘Hibernators Roam’?”

  “Bathrooms in rear,” the man replied.

  “And what about ‘No Cell Phones’?”

  “It just means turn off your phone,” the man said. Ziggy scratched his head in confusion. “The conference keynote speaker will begin in five minutes, and be sure to sign up for the afternoon breakout discussions.”

  “Like, how about this session?” Ziggy pointed to a breakout topic listed in his conference materials as they walked toward the main meeting area. “The Coming Zombie Invasion.”