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LOUISVILLE MAGAZINE 12.14 57 ponytail and she is wearing pink slippers. She says she tries to make herself some resemblance to female out in these woods. She has a cross-eye and looks from Tony to Greig and back and around. "Tere was no grass at Campbell Camp. Tere's no grass here. Feel like I've never even seen it myself. I don't think Louisville has grass," she says. It's been raining three days seemingly nonstop, and they're getting fooded down in their shallow valley. Dirt dips have turned into mud craters. Everything looks soggy. Eventually Greig will move his tent to the other side of the camp to avoid fooding. Today there is fnally sun. Tony throws trash into the pitless fre's small heap. Empty chip baggies, a shoe, Styrofoam to-go boxes burn. Tere were meals in there, delivered by one of the homeless outreach teams, maybe somebody from a church — Jean, Tiny or the Chicken Man — but the food's gone now and the boxes might as well burn. Tony doesn't worry about the health efects, the toxic chemicals released. When the wind hits, it lifts the ash, blows it around like falling snow. Te dense tree cover and kudzu separating the campers from the busy road makes the smoke hard to see. Tey haven't really thought about what they'll do when actual snow falls, when winter bares the trees, exposing them. Tey're concentrated on the higher ground. "I went up to the Chaos Trail frst. Ten I found that dude that came out that trail that one day," Greig says. Tey nod as if they know. "I found out where he is. He's got a virtual fucking city up there. A virtual fucking city," Greig says, nodding as if in awe. "It's by the pump station." "But you've got to go across the bridge," Tammie says. "No, you don't have to cross no bridge, honey," Greig says. He's not her honey — her honey's in jail — but out here everyone is honey, baby girl, baby boy. "Oh, that's what I was worried about," Tammie says. "Where's the 'bacco at, babe?" she asks Tony. "Tat spot I found today, it's grass," Greig says. "And no one will ever fnd us unless they look for us." heets walks in. Everybody starts hollering. His dad's been sick back in E-town, and he's been gone a couple weeks. Gone but not forgotten. "AH, SHEETS!!!" says Tammie when Tony points to him entering. Sadity, Tammie's eight-pound Chihuahua, starts barking. (Sadity is short for high sadity, which is slang for high-class or prissy.) Tony's 50-pound pit bull, Rocky, is quiet, wagging his tail. "My nigga!" Greig shouts. Together, Sheets and Greig say, "If he don't get no bigga, he just be my bigga nigga!" Tey brotherly hug, then handclap. Sheets is a white guy, pale, blond hair. He says he can't get a job because he's a felon. Has an emergency protective order violation. He tried to kill his ex- girlfriend's boyfriend, who had given her a hot shot (bad heroine) that almost killed her. Sheets knows martial arts. Broke ol' boy's left clavicle, tore up his spine. Sheets says he can't even get a minimum-wage job. Can't even work at McDonald's. After some catching up, they light a spice joint. Spice. Not weed. It's a type of synthetic marijuana. Tey say it's legal. Doesn't scar the system. Tey buy it from a smoke shop of 26th and Market. Usually only fve or 10 bucks' worth here or there when they have the money. Tis doesn't happen often. But it's a special occasion. Sheets. Te spice goes around. Tey all talk about the tornado that touched down at Campbell Camp in October 2013. It didn't go directly over them, but the pressure split trees and fattened tents. Te tornado sounded like a roaring train. (Go fgure, R.J. Corman.) Tey talk about winter. Last winter, Tony, Tammie, her man Chris, and Curtis (the one from 211) stayed outside all winter long. Six of them in all. Negative- double-digit degrees. Greig went into a shelter the frst three days of Operation White Flag, a program to ensure that homeless people fnd shelter during severe weather emergencies. Not a bed, but at least shelter, no hypothermia. Te frst Operation White Flag of 2014 was that frigid Halloween weekend. How'd they keep warm? "Blankets," Greig says. "Dogs," Tammie says. "Canned heat," Sheets says. He eats a Fruity Pebbles marshmallow treat. A week or so later, Sheets' dad will die and Sheets will inherit enough money to get on his feet. Everybody will say goodbye. Sheets will walk out. t's 6 a.m. and already George is tidying. He straightens up his tent, then starts picking up the trash outside. He has a small 'fro. At Campbell Camp, he was one of three African-Americans, including Greig and Tammie's man Chris. Te radio's playing "Peaceful Easy Feeling." It's an old portable thing that must weigh fve pounds. Te camp usually goes to bed at 6 or 7 at night and rises at 1 or 2 or 3 in the morning. Tey listen to talk radio together. Coast to Coast is one of George's favorites. Tey drink cofee, the water heated on a donated propane tank. George drinks about four cups between his rise and sunrise. He's always waiting on sunrise. During the day he can never sit still. Once the light is good, they'll all go for free breakfast and more cofee. Sometimes they'll go early to wash their clothes at the Louisville Rescue Mission. Te campers can take showers there, too. A few weeks ago, George fell of the "bad luck bike." He broke a metacarpal or two in his left hand. His half-cast turns his hand into a white crab claw. He mocks Mork & Mindy: "Na-Nu Na- Nu." He won't see a doctor again for a month, and he's not sure the kid who applied the cast wrapped it right. His fnger looks crooked. "Can't work, can't nothin'," he says. Tis is almost as limiting as George's father in rural Mendenhall, Mississippi, where George lived before this with too strict of rules for a grown man. Besides the loud static of the morning commute, things are quiet at Camp Spider this October Monday. George is raking. Tammie lies back down for a bit. Greig's doing laundry at LRM before a job interview at Sam's Club. Travis from 211, who they know from Campbell Camp, is hanging out. He left Tony with a Ziploc bag of his while he did time. It's full of brightly enveloped cards and a photo album, the frst few pictures of Travis' "over the hill" birthday party. They haven't really thought about what they'll do when actual snow falls, when winter bares the trees, exposing them. I S