Free King of the Mutants by Samantha Verant Page A

two of the large mansions. On a rickety front porch, underneath the scribbled sign advertising “Ten-Dollar Voodoo Tarot Readings,” a heavy-set, old Cajun woman rocked in a chair. She smiled and waved at us like she knew we were coming.
    Freddie pulled the chopper over, I motioned to Snaggletooth to stay put, and with hesitation we walked toward the old woman. She wore a multi-colored batik head-wrap with a matching dress and sat up straight and proud. Dark sunglasses hid most of her face, so it was hard to tell, but I guessed her age to be around eighty.
    “No, sweet child,” she said with a deep laugh. “I’m well past a hundred years old. I ain’t no spring chicken anymore.”
    Holy Caped Crusaders! The woman could read my mind. I stuttered, “How’d you do that? How’d you know what I was thinking?”
    “Child, I’m just beating you to the punch with your questions. See now, everybody that meets me the first time, well, they tries a guessing my age.” She raised an eyebrow. “Now, how can an old woman such as myself help you boys? You here for a Voodoo Tarot reading? Hmm?”
    Tempting.
    “No, some guy told us you may be able to help locate the Hoodoo Queen, um, Serafine,” I said.
    “I knew you weren’t here for a reading. I was just messing with you to see what you’d say.” She laughed softly to herself. “I’ve been conjuring and voodooing since I learned to crawl. The parents said I had a special gift. Special abilities I don’t even understand sometimes. I can’t tell you the hows or the whys of what needs to be done in the future. I only see life for what it is in the present. I know you need Serafine’s vision.”
    “Yes,” I said. “And we need a lot of luck.”
    “That’s not all ya’ll be needing,” she drawled and straightened out her dress. “Now Serafine live deep in the Bayou among the gators like you. I can tell you where to find her and how to get to her home on the bayou and all that, but that’s not the only reason you been sent here. Lord knows, it ain’t for no mumbo jumbo. You be needing some fake teeth and I have a pair for you,” Adelaide said, her tone assertive. “You cannot be running around that New York City with that smile of yours. Bad ’nuff you got yourself a tail and them eyes glowin’ redder than a possessed chili pepper.”
    Freddie looked just as stunned as I was. His big trout mouth twitched like a spaz.
    “Ms. Adelaide,” I stuttered. “How do you know where we’re going?”
    Adelaide shrugged her shoulders and tapped her head twice. “Not much goes on around in the world I don’t know about, son. I saw everything in my visions. Thing is, I’ve got your best interests in mind. I also know Ms. Serafine is expecting you. You and she like two peas cozied up in a pod.”
    “Is Serafine part alligator, too?” asked Freddie.
    “No, child, Serafine ain’t no alligator, but they are her guides. She got strong ties with Orunmila.”
    “Who? Who?” Freddie and I asked in unison. We sounded like a couple of barn owls.
    “Orunmila is the Santeria God of wisdom, owner of divination. He gives insight to find solutions to all problems. He has a deep connection with the gators, just as Serafine does.”
    “A God with a connection to alligators?” My eyes widened with anticipation. “Why is she connected with him? What makes Serafine so special?”
    “You’ll soon see what she like,” Adelaide chuckled curiously. She put her hand on Freddie’s shoulder. “Now follow me into my lil’ old shop. We needs to get Maverick here sorted out, Freddie. Your brother from another mother has some important things that need a doing.”
    My heart thumped five hundred beats a second.
    We hadn’t told this woman our names.
    Adelaide got up off her rocker, opened up the front door, paused, then went inside. I’d never been inside a house of Voodoo, or Hoodoo, and didn’t know quite what to expect, but for some reason or another, I was pumped. Freddie and