Stephen Randel - Trail of the Chupacabra

“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.”

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 suspicious?”

“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.”