Chapter Twenty-One: Outbreak Part Two

Editor’s Note: Deniers of the outbreak do not have much evidence of a thriving Vine to point to from 1926-1929. But let us not get ahead of ourselves. 1924 death records, as I’ve already said, show a 10% increase in deaths. There’s evidence of suffering, too: surviving sources show a slow-building fear turn into panic turn into real chaos and mass death. Deniers will concede some form of mania in Vine during this time, and attribute the heightened nature of some of these sources to that mania. As if watching your mother’s face fall off could be recollected in tranquility. As if you’d be coldly bureaucratic about a healer who acted as your only shield against a hail of invisible death. But I’ll shut up. Let the dead speak for themselves:

From The Journals of Aphrodite “Aly” Wilkinson, Daughter of Aloysius Wilkinson III

We left a wreath of lemons when we laid Father’s body in the woods. Daisies. Sunflowers. Yellow chrysanthemums. Toward the end, I overheard one of the people say: “could be jaundice, but jaundice don’t make your finger fall off.” They say my father bringing those lemons caused all this, but that can’t be true, can it? I can’t bear the thought of the family lemon grove gone. It can’t be the lemons. It can’t be. It can’t. 

From The Journals of Franklin Davies IV

Well, they did up old Lysander last night. Initiated him. An Elder now! We gave him a good tease about that, how old he’s getting. 18 is a time to become a man, I suppose. I suppose I’m next. Boggles the mind that my old man’s still hanging on. Crazy bastard keeps ranting about witchcraft. I don’t know if it’s the citrus, but I don’t think it’s witches. Guess I’m next. Elder Franklin Davies IV. Nah. Old man’s gonna hang on a while. Happy for Lysander, though. 

Obituary for Franklin Davies III

The community of Vine mourns the passing of Elder Franklin Davies III, who met the Lord on July 20, 1924. He was 57 years old. Elder Davies died after a long life and brief battle with what is believed to be a particularly violent strain of pneumonia. His contributions to the community of Vine, besides being a serving Elder for 23 years, included notable success in the citrus industry, as well as singing baritone in the choir for the Church of Vine…

Editor’s Note: like that, the three Elders who brought citrus to Vine gone. The entire Third Council begins to turn over, making it one of the shortest-lived Councils in Vine’s history. Poor Seth Ruth III—more on him in a minute—barely got to be an official Elder. Inter-generational conflicts simmer: the Fourth Council seems to look out for themselves as the Third Council drops dead. But the sons wish to reap the riches their fathers had sown. Meanwhile, in the lower classes, a different hero arises.

The People of Vine Begin To Suffer

Now it was in those days that citrus was becoming so abundant in Vine that all manner of fruits, juices, baked goods, treats, and candied assortments were being sold in the Vine General Store. For it was that first the Elders enjoyed citrus in their homes and parties; second, that the export of citrus enriched Vine’s coffers; third, that the people of Vine could partake in the acid-sweet delights of lemon, lime, and orange. 

Now it remains to this day unclear what caused the disease, which brought painful boils on skin, severe itching, dryness and discoloration of skin, rotting gums, swelling of the joints in feet and ankles, high fever, fatigue, and languorousness. There are those who suspect citrus, and indeed, when the General Store finally began stocking citrus at prices the people of Vine could afford, outbreaks were seen in the general population. One known thing about the disease: it was contagious. Work crew records from the time will report one or two men not working due to illness, and within a week, the crew would be shuttered for days on end. Farmhand deaths were unusually high from 1924-1929. Hermit songs from the time tell of people wandering into the woods, limping, toothless, and patchily-skinned, to die in the forest. 

Now it was in those days that the people of Vine suffered, and despaired, and died, and the people of Vine cried out to the Lord. Yet still the disease came. 

Bernard Gregory Pilt Pines For A New Railroad

Now it was in those days that there was more work in Vine than there were workers to work. From morning until night the people of Vine labored according to the custom of the township: they labored in the fields, they labored unloading railcar freight, they labored in the kitchens and serving lines of ClearView Eating House, they labored upon the roads, they labored in the new gas station and at the fledging mechanic garage, they labored upon the lakewater and by the riverbanks, they labored in domestic duties and household chores, they labored young and old, they labored in times of rain or sunshine, and they labored in times of sickness and in health, for it was a virtue to labor in the blessings that God had bestowed.

From morning until night did the people of Vine labor, and at night they went to Gentleman Jim’s and drank.

Bernard Gregory Pilt, who thanks to hard work and blessings from God had grown very rich off of imports and exports, such that he commanded a whole company of laborers who loaded and unloaded his rail cars, who sorted and labeled inventory, who picked up and delivered items to the people and businesses and Church of Vine, and who labored even in times of sickness for the profit of Bernard Gregory Pilt, lamented: “if only Vine had a new railroad, the town would finally enter the 20th century.”

Bernard Gregory Pilt would die after a disease caused such swelling in his wrist and finger joints that his hands were rendered useless barbarous clubs and an infection of his gums spread to his blood. He would die before completion of the new railroad, and was succeeded by his son, Gregory Shepherd Pilt.

From The Legend of Saint Rock, by Edna Butler, Librarian of Vine

Once upon a time there was a man named Rock. He was a simple man who had a farm and cared for many crops like corn and twinberries and tomatoes. He lived simply and always wore a red shirt so that people in the street would say “here comes Rock in his red shirt” and he would laugh a full-bellied laugh. When citrus came to Vine Rock knew that many of the people could not afford citrus so he made drinks and snacks with his own crops and the scant citrus he could gather and gave them to the poor: corn and tomato relish with lime dressing, twinberry tea with lemon rind, corn cake with orange glaze. Rock was a servant of God who gave his possessions to the poor and never used what he did not need. When people were sick he cared for the sick people until they found peace in health or death.

Editor’s Note: It should be noted here that amidst all of the disease and death, there is evidence of innovation in Vine. Outbreak deniers grant heavy weight to these developments, pointing to them as such hallmarks of prosperity that any claims of extraordinary suffering and dying are rendered moot. Oakwood Farms was planted in 1925. The southeast windows in the Church of Vine—stained glass depictions of Christ carrying a lamb and Christ granting a blind man sight—were installed in 1928. Hydroelectricity was introduced in 1930. There’s too much activity in Vine to make room for some sort of mysterious plague, deniers say. I would point to almost any time in human history when something beautiful was built and say there was mass suffering behind it. Think the builders of the Pyramids—the actual guys hauling stone—cared that it would stand the test of time as a Wonder of the World? Mass suffering and death doesn’t mean rich people stop existing. We don’t have records of why the Elders approved new stained glass in 1928, but we know the disease made them cognitively a little off. I’m betting it made them feel better about all the dying to see some pretty art during the Sunday sermon, too. 

One thing I will grant the outbreak deniers: the disease did seem to favor older people, and this generation of Vine did prove itself incredibly innovative and resilient after evidence of disease disappears. But I am jumping ahead of myself. Death records indicate rises in deaths in 1923 through early 1924 among people 55 and older. Younger demographics stay consistent. That’ll change as the year goes on, but initially, this was a plague on the old. And the young looked out for each other.

From The Vine Bulletin, July 27, 1924

Elders Announce New Railroad

Plans were unveiled for construction of a new cargo railroad Tuesday, the first such innovation in more than a generation. The decision comes after months of public advocacy from Bernard Gregory Pilt and son, Gregory Shephard Pilt

“This is a good day for Vine,” Pilt said, addressing The Vine Bulletin with Elders Franklin Davies IV and Robert MacHenry IV. “Not only will the deal create infrastructure for a new generation to thrive with interstate trade, but it will create jobs for the people of Vine in the interim.”

The project, worked in conjunction with the town of Vine and State Senator Roderick Butler, who maintains a house in the area, is slated to break ground in September.

“We’re all very excited,” local realtor Bob Swanson, Jr. said. “This is a new era for business and infrastructure in Vine.”

The project was not without its detractors. Euphoria Derkins, local mother of four, voiced concern about the lingering threat of witches.

“People are dying,” Euphoria said. “People getting sick. Dying. No one knows why. They say citrus. Ain’t citrus. No sir. Ain’t citrus. Them witches is still out there. Mark my words them witches won’t rest til all our kids is dead.”

The railway will stop just on the outskirts of Vine, near Prophet’s Bald. Plans are for it to expand out to Kansas, Nebraska, and potentially as far north as Iowa. 

Remaining Fragment of Letter From Bernard Gregory Pilt to Aloysius Wilkinson IV 

…predictably, and without fail, the workers are complaining. “Woe, for the doctor charges this-and-that; woe, for my children are sick at home; woe, for my buddy died yesterday.” On and on, unceasing…impertinent, maybe…all the subtlety of a brick to the big toe…is there nothing the Council can do? Pass some resolution that gets people working again? It has gone on long enough…

Editor’s Note: this is the last known correspondence of Bernard Gregory Pilt.

John Hofsteder’s Tale of Rock (As Told By The Younger John Hofsteder, His Grandson)

Well, the way Daddy always told it, Granddaddy was working on that new railroad. Now, every time Daddy told the story, Granddaddy had some new ailment: oh, three fingers done fell off that morning. Aw hell, his left eye hanging out his head at this point. Whoops, he scratched his belly button and new skin ain’t coming in, belly button bleeding everywhere, but still Granddaddy pulled on his work boots. 

The way Daddy told it—now, mind you, he’s getting all his information secondhand—is that Granddaddy punched into work that day, every man on that job site could tell something was off. Some people say back then there was a disease—well, I don’t wanna get into politics. My Granddaddy was sick, and he collapsed before he swung his first hammer that day. 

Aw hell, you know how it is. Everyone worried, not a big playbook on what exactly to do. There was Rock, though, this man who only had one name and wore a red shirt, he dropped everything he was doing. I’m not sure how, but Rock got my Granddaddy’s heart beating again. Got Granddaddy home, I think Rock and a couple other guys carried him back. Granddaddy couldn’t do much after that—didn’t have his, uh, mental faculties. They set him up in the living room, he was wearing diapers the rest of his days, drinking his meals. But he got to say goodbye. Rock brought my Granddaddy home from work that day, and my daddy, Grandma, my uncles, they got to say goodbye to Granddaddy before he passed. Weren’t long until he did pass. Still. Old Rock got his name right up there with Jesus that day, as far as Grandma was concerned. 

Hester Kearse And Those Who Veil Themselves

Editor’s Note: it might seem funny, that a town so insular and closed off would be so concerned with a railroad. Again, the Elders and Captains of Industry were the ones focused on the growth potential of a new railroad. Any primary source from this period—and they are scarce, let me tell you—will show the people of Vine worried about illness or mourning death. The Preachers? They carried water for the Elders. Sermon texts don’t survive from the entire period, but titles like “Meeting The Lord’s Moment” and “Bury Not Your Talents, Humble Servants of Vine” are a pretty good indicator of where God’s intermediaries were at. 

Previously, I mentioned those in Vine who do not leave their homes (except for Church) out of fear of the disease. They sit in the balcony, away from the congregation, faces fully masked in cloth not unlike a niqāb—men, women, and children. They don’t speak. They don’t sing. Another thing they also do not do is miss Sunday service. One Sunday, I followed them home. They live in the mountains in a grouping of five cottages, not far from the Holy Funeral Site. The smell of lilac and honeysuckle fighting the stench of a century of corpses open-air rotting. No wonder they wear face covers. I left a note in the mail slot, explaining who I was and what my book was. The next Sunday, they left me this letter:

You are the first to speak to us for as long as we’ve known. We only know what we have been told. We have been told that our foremother, Hester Kearse, was the first of our tribe to be infected. We have been told that she was an attendant at Edgar S. MacLeod’s estate, and was infected the night that Seth Ruth II died. We have been told that Hester had a coughing fit that lasted three days and three nights and that the skin peeled off both of her hands entirely. 

We are told that her two sons, Devin and Johnny, ages three and one, were dead within a week.

We are told that when Hester went to Preacher for guidance, she was instead met with derision. We are told that Preacher said disease of this kind was sent only to the gravest sinners. We are told that Preacher said the fate that befell Hester’s sons was reserved only for budding demons. We are told that Preacher said no doctor could even be willing to attempt to heal Hester. 

We are told that Preacher sent for someone, and then Elders Aloysius Wilkinson IV and Franklin Davies IV personally dragged Hester to the outskirts of the Holy Funeral Site and tossed her in the honeysuckle. We are told that Preacher watched. 

We are told that the Elders and Preachers are the intermediaries of God. We are told that the Elders and Preachers are the wisest, the most exalted, the protectors of Vine. We are told that the only protector our foremother Hester Kearse had was Rock, and that once Rock had nursed Hester back to health in a home he and a crew built in a single day with their hands, Rock assigned the members of that crew and their families to live our their days with Hester, together holding and keeping one another in disease-free, life-giving community. We are told that to this day, we must hold and keep one another in disease-free, life-giving community. 

We attend Church every Sunday in expectation of acknowledgement of the sins of the Elders and Preachers from generations ago. You are the first to speak to us for as long as we’ve known. We only know what we have been told.

We entrust to you what we have been told, 

Those Who Veil Themselves

Editor’s Note: this might be the closest I have to a real, honest-to-God scoop in this book. I showed Jonah and Christine the letter. Christine, who seems to have a story about a mysterious “women’s group” surviving every disaster in Vine. Jonah, who tells me the Hermits helped people of Vine afraid of the sickness escape to the great unknown outside world. Look, dropping out Seminary, but still wanting to tell a history of Vine—you wonder sometimes if you’re the right person for the job. Why the hell should anyone care what I write. Well, I’m the first person to talk to Those Who Veil Themselves in 70 years. 

But a true history, in the style of the Vine Histories, would not have interruptions. Speaking of those Hermits: 

The People of Vine Run For The Hills And Find Aid From The Hermits

Now it was in those days that the disease was spreading throughout the people of Vine, and the people of Vine, being closer to the wretched of the Earth than the Elders by virtue of being poor, suffered more of the brunt of God’s plague. For were it so, as the Elders had determined, that the outbreak was a test from God, then surely it must follow that the people of Vine had sinned greatly, and were suffering in a measure proportional to their sins. 

The stench steaming off the Holy Funeral Site had begun to stretch toward the main drag in town. At night the wails of grief kept nearly everyone from sleeping. Sluggish during daily work hours, the quality of everything began to diminish: the trays at ClearView set out with flecks of food still on them, the ground under apple orchards littered with fruit gone rotten before it could be harvested, longer wait times everywhere from the hospital to the checkout line at the General Store. For the first time in its history, the people of Vine began to hold doubt in their hearts about this consecrated land for God’s Chosen in the Americas. 

The Hermits, having been guardians of Vine’s borders and shepherds for the lost among Vine’s mountains since the time of Eli Jefferson, had become aware of movements before. Westward expansion had been ongoing since the Revelation of Vine, and recently, the Great Migration had begun. Yet the Hermits were unaccustomed to movement coming from within Vine. Nevertheless, with movement from both Vine and the Great Migration seemingly pointed north, the Hermits were moved to great compassion, and rose to meet the moment of mutual aid needed on Vine’s northern borders. 

Thus it was that an uncounted number of the people of Vine escaped into the United States, and were not heard from again. 

Editor’s Note: all the Hermit sourcing is from Jonah’s contacts, though I am hoping for more personal conversations later. Did I track down anyone who left Vine? The ones who didn’t die in the process? Oh yeah, many died. Maybe already infected, maybe physically not prepared for the journey, maybe spiritually not ready for the split—people died leaving Vine. But people who didn’t die? I found one. Mary Florence Thomas, aged 76 when I reached out to her and received one letter: “She was five years old and has no memory of the place you refer to. The place is not mentioned in our home.”  

The Elders, still not publicly concerned with disease, still in need to of workers for Vine’s expanding economy, do not like seeing the people of Vine leaving.

Elders Determine Exodus From Vine Must Be Stopped

The Elders convened to discuss the exodus. Fragmentary surviving minutes records from the Council meeting of October 1, 1924, as recorded by Secretary Seth Ruth III (himself still newly initiated to the Council and looking itchy in the role of Secretary) are as follows:

Call to order, all 12 members of the Council of Elders present. 

Old Business: …railroad, having brought in…that we shall not squander the gains of our fathers…favored in God’s sight…

New Business: Exodus from Vine is en vogue, it might seem. Despite assurances from this Council and admonishments from the pulpit to repent for their sins, fear of illness has motivated some to seek the warmth of the Lord’s embrace in other lands. 

Lysander Adams IV spoke, saying: “This is a holy place. Fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. How does that proverb proceed? Knowledge of Vine is a privilege! We are God’s chosen people in the Americas! Vine is a consecrated land. Mine own father has died. I have not left!”

Aloysius Wilkinson IV spoke, saying: “Let the weak diaspora unto the Earth! The people of Vine shall be stronger without those who are ungrateful in the face of the Lord’s blessing and unrepentant in the face of a test from God!”

Franklin Davies IV spoke, saying: “My friends, we know this to be true: God has given us dominion over this consecrated land. We are to make use of it. Moreover, this very Council has already determined there is nothing to be afraid of. There are those afraid of the toll that living takes on the body? There are those afraid of the physical toil of work? There are those worried their hands may become dirty? Those are sinners of the highest order! We must stop this exodus, in the name of God and this Council!”

From The Vine Bulletin, October 2, 1924


The Elder Council met yesterday and voted to codify what some in Vine have long accepted as standard practice: No soul in or out of town—unless by Hand of God—until further notice. “Until that certain moment when we can feel that Vine has passed this test from God,” Lysander Adams IV said. “We feel it best that the people of Vine remain focused on work and domestic duties. This is not an attack on the freedom of the people of Vine. This is about safety and atonement.” When pressed about whether the vote was affected at all by his father’s recent death, Adams IV—one of the Council’s newest Elders—demurred. 

“There have obviously been some high-profile illnesses and death lately,” Adams IV said. “We are facing a test from God. All we can recommend is remaining in Vine, and remaining steadfast in serving the Lord humbly.”

Regardless of official statements, the travel ban does seem to be aimed at reducing the possibility of bringing in more viruses from the outside world. Many believe the recent rash in deadly illness to be the work of witches or some other test from God, but there exist some who attribute direct correlation of the disease to the arrival of citrus. Notably, the deceased Elder Lysander Adams III was an importer and exporter of oranges. 

The official last day to cross in or out of Vine is October 9, 1924. 

Editor’s Note: if you ask Outbreak deniers about this, you will be met with such incoherence that you will start to wonder if you are speaking and reading the same language. Deniers claim the above article proves nothing about an unusual disease in Vine—not only that, they claim the article is a simple re-affirmation of Vine’s status as a Consecrated Land. “Remain here and work, prove yourself to God, sounds fine to us,” they’ll say, like idiots. “Vine has always been a no-in, no-out town, except for Seminary,” they’ll say, being willfully obtuse. As evidence that this hard travel ban was a strain, I could point to increased hospital admissions in November and December 1924. Or we could look at this personal account of a new Elder gone mad at the prospect of being unable to see the outside world. 

From the Journal of Seth Ruth III, Entries Spanning October 5, 1924-November 17, 1924

Seems my sin is one of longing. The heart desires what it cannot possess. The open road strokes my hand with the knowing intimacy of a lover. I have barely glimpsed the outside world. I possess the means to venture out into it. My car, O my car! Earthly freedom in mechanical engineering! Did I desire to leave Vine? Not before they told me I couldn’t! 

…I am resolved. As certain as the migration of the goose I am resolved. Old Franklin yesterday laughed in my face. Does he not understand the pining? Does he not yearn for freedom of movement? Mobility on God’s earth? Rebuke fear! I am a lion of the Lord and I walk with holy blessing. I am packed: a week’s clothing, petty cash, a few volumes of holy reading.

…The car is not an option…too much attention to be attracted. The hawks are not the only eyes of the forest…One shudders to imagine being exposed…some deviant Hermit…

…God is my strength. All who question me must answer tofish do not wish to die, do they? Oh how they struggle mightily. Little fish, you serve me and my fire nowwhat I would give for some lemon squeezed over this fish! Pulp poking out of rind, clinging to it, juice giving up the ghost! A single dash of finishing citrus!

In the absence of…I do not fear, for I walk with the Lord…Would that I had power to achieve such dominion as to bend the laws of nature to myself, as the wizards of old. But alas, we stamped witchcraft out of Vine, it is a holy place…

The mountain is wide and my journey is long but my resolution does not waver.

I am the clarion call of the New Vine! I am the blasting trumpet sounding new era! Toothless? Toothless, you call me…Supplies waning. Camped under cover of the Poplar tree again—have not had the strength to go distance as when…

…a Hermit of Vine! Hogwash…in the eye of the sun exists all the knowledge the Lord withholds. Preacher says it is in His wisdom but I decry the selfishness inherent in keeping…

*Editor’s Note: these portions of Seth Ruth III’s journey courtesy of Vine Elder Archives, housed at the Library of Vine. This particular volume was found in the mountains by a Hermit of Vine and returned to the Elders on December 1, 1945. It has never been read by a non-Elder until now. Several pages are missing, seemingly at random. The date and time of his death are unknown. From the time of his disappearance to his last journal entry, 11 people of Vine died. 

From The Journals of Lysander Adams IV, November 21, 1924

We shall have to be one Elder short until young Seth Ruth V comes of age. In his stead, poor Alice Ruth gets to be a single mother and a steward of the Council seat her late husband left vacant. Never has a woman sat on the Council before, and while the majority of my Elder friends seem to think a woman’s irrationality shall disrupt Council operations, I say let the old woman inject some new blood into the proceedings. 

From The Journals of Franklin Davies IV, November 22, 1924

…never more convinced have I been than I am now: those perpetuating the lie of the fear of illness…there is only the strong and the weak, only the winners and the losers, only the survivors and the cast aside, only the Chosen and the Damned…the people of Vine must find a moral toughness, a devotion to the work in the name of God…

From the Journal of Aloysius Wilkinson IV, February 11, 1925

Laid Aly in the woods today. It is unwell in my soul. We left a wreath of lemons. Can an item so new be a talisman? Can Heaven be made of lemon groves for her to love? Surely she is sitted at the right hand of God. 

Profits up as exports ramp up. Expectations are high for the new railroad—our interstate investors want to get in on the ground floor. This is good. Initial investment will keep the project solvent until it can start paying for itself. This will be good. For the forefathers of Vine faced challenges, and the Devil was defeated. So too shall it be for our Council.  

The Legend of Rock Continues To Grow

Now it was in those days that the people of Vine faced unprecedented levels of sickness and death, and day and night the people of Vine suffered. Young and old they cried, their skin dried and peeled, their joints swollen and tender, mothers held their children and wailed as fathers died in fields, night and day they cried, their throats parched and scratched, their gums bloody and black, they collapsed over stoves, they collapsed over sewing, they collapsed over gardens, they collapsed over ploughs, they collapsed over workbenches, they collapsed over welding, they collapsed over livestock, they collapsed over traps, they collapsed over tree roots, they collapsed pushing their carts, they collapsed over their beers on their barstools at Gentleman Jim’s. 

Now it was in those days that the people of Vine turned their heads to Rock, who wore a red shirt, about whom was said any disease could be healed, any hunger could be satiated, any thirst could be quenched, any pain from labor could be soothed, and any want from poverty could be found, about Rock it was said that he was a friend to the people, a friend to the worker, a friend to the farmer, a friend to the housewife, a friend to the sower, a friend to the harvester, a friend to the fisherman, a friend to the children, a friend to the newcomer, a friend to the lost, and the people knew these things about Rock and spoke them to one another, and they held Rock in their hearts, and Rock in his red shirt was a light to the people of Vine. 

Editor’s Note: Here at this juncture, I feel like I have to editorialize a bit. The Histories of Vine are by nature collage, but how about a reminder of asserted facts? Every single Elder from the Third Council of Vine dies during this time period. They ranged in age from 53 (Seth Ruth III) to 66 (Aloysius Wilkinson III). For reference, the youngest Elder in the Second Council to die was James Sherman II, who was 70. The entire Third Council and one member of the Fourth is gone by January 1925. An actual, codified version of the “nobody in, nobody out, expect by Hand of God” policy is enacted. And the people of Vine, who for the first time in their existence thought to seek greener pastures, are beginning to whisper about a mysterious, miracle-working healer from a work crew holding answers the Elders and Preachers ain’t got. It’s amazing Vine survived this period, when you think about it. 

Deniers point to innovation, growth, and profit margins rising for Vine during this time period. “The railroad got built,” they say, ignoring that the project was completed seven years behind schedule thanks to a labor shortage. The Great Migration, which was still nascent but definitely happening during this time, almost entirely skips Vine. Deniers will argue that Black people escaping Jim Crow violence in the South might want to go farther north than a mountain town in Tennessee, but it’s not as if Vine has not been a refuge, at least temporarily, to runaway slaves throughout its history. 

No, a plague had come to Vine, and whether or not Vine could meet this test from God was yet to be seen. 

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