“I had an ‘aunt’ my cousins and I thought was a witch,” Ruby the RabbitFoot explains, her South Georgia drawl lagging after a long day at work. “So I think I’m connected to that world. Even though shit seems to always hit the fan, I feel like a lucky charm.”

So explains Ruby’s adopted surname: homage to that taxidermied appendage of some poor carrot-hunter dyed an ungodly shade of pink and attached to a faux gold keychain so young kids in despair can have something to wish upon. The truck stop talisman easily found at any of the many highway oases along the roads that lead Saint Simons Island, Georgia. Ruby grew up there in “a little brick house by the marsh.”