She said, "I'll meet you when the moon is fat and the sun's at its zenith at the Crooked Crow crossroads by Starfish Meadow. I'll sit beneath the Gallows Tree, beside the unmarked graves of Little Man Big and the Bluegrass Fellow.
"Bring Stagger Lee," she said, "with his bottleneck slide - and stout Joe Sharpe with his country harp - as I'll have my fiddle and we'll play like the devil to summon up sweet Mary Jane and that charlatan, Fool Grenville."
We'd dance, then, like dervishes in the tall lush grass, singing of the traitorous that had once been among us - though, by now, had long since vanished - and we'd all take a sip from the initiates chalice. A bitter-sweet linctus of a blood-like tincture, brought to us by the Medicine Man, full of the hermit's solace.
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