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 Section 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
