Two Days in The Jungle: Part II

Homelessness for Stupid People

The foibles of the most pampered homeless population in the Bay Area...

“Her name's 'Baby',” Troy said of the grey striped cat looking up at us. “I hate the name Baby, someone else gave her that name. But she's fearless. She'll come up here.”

We were thirty feet above the ground on a four by eight foot platform LiPo had generously referred to as Troy's new tree house. LiPo, durn him, wanted to go up there.

Troy stood over us both. He's a bear of a man wearing a bandana tightly over his red hair and a moustache trimmed so that it extends down to his jaw, like a goatee with the beard part shaved off. He dwarfs both LiPo and myself.

From this vantage point, we can see much of, but not all of The Jungle even as the wind comes up and the tree begins to sway and twist, keeping me firmly attached to the main branch I was conspicuously hugging.

In the past two hours, LiPo had introduced me to the main characters of the original SJ Merc Article by Bruce Newman. We had ventured down the main ramp leading in and one of the first things out of LiPo's mouth, something he'd repeat was: “It's a lot cleaner than I remember it!”

Clean being relative. Some of the trash cans overflowed with garbage, but at least it was gathered. There were also piles of plastic garbage bags gathered here and there. Shopping carts are ubiquitous and the number of cats lurking, watching, like silent sentinels aware of these two interlopers come to call.

Many of the camp sites are walled off with green shade cloth tied to make-shift posts and surrounding trees or bushes. Troy's is particularly tidy and well made, but his is not the exception, it's more the example.

We had ventured to Troy's camp site first. The shade cloth has arrows panted on it pointing to the gate where signs tell you to keep out or to announce yourself before coming in. LiPo and I looked over the shade cloth fence and he called for Troy. Inside I could see Troy's small shack, his stash of tools and equipment and his shower that was ringed by a blue tarp hanging on a hoop ring perhaps six feet in diameter.

There was no answer from Troy, which disappointed LiPo.

He then took me to find Mama Red down, what I was now finding out, was a maze of beaten paths under a goodly amount of shade. It struck me that one could easily get lost here. I would later find it to be a prophetic idea.

We found Mama Red's place with it's artificial flowers planted decoratively outside the shade cloth fence. Inside seems a little chaotic and disorganized, but outward appearances are of a tidy home.

Mama Red is a talkative woman who is friendly and quite obviously generous. Since LiPo had last seen her she had taken in Candy, who is as timid a creature as one might imagine. Mama Red obviously realized Candy needed someone to look after her and, there being nobody else, Mama Red took her in. Mama Red did give LiPo a little grief over what was said in the article about her daughter. “She wasn't around to defend herself,” Mama Red scolded. Overall,however, it was a friendly reunion.

When LiPo informed Mama Red that I'd be staying a couple of days, she automatically offered to give me food whenever I needed it...

From there we moved on looking for Giggles and Patty. LiPo noticed that they were not in the place he remembered and we went asking for them. We came across a man and a woman who were talking and LiPo asked after Patty and Giggles, and how to get to their place.

The woman remained silent after we arrived, but the man challenged us.

“You know them and don't know where they live?”

LiPo explained, and the guy told us to wait while he disappeared down the path.

LiPo and I looked at each other, suddenly both of us understanding that we very much were intruders in this place. It was the first of many things that would tell me how close nit this miniature town is.

When the man finally returned he had us follow him. He led us near the edge of Coyote Creek and through a gated fence where Giggles and Patty were waiting for us.

Giggles greeted us with a big smile that I would find characteristic of her. Patty, who is quite an attractive young Latina was more guarded, often giving one or two word answers when asked a question. Young she may be, but she has the watchful eyes of someone with many more years. In the SJ Merc story Bruce Newman seemed to imply that Giggle's was Patty's protection. I'm not so sure it isn't the other way round. Giggles is a very open person, easy to talk to. We notice they have a mountain of recycle goods surrounding the shack Troy built for Patty as Giggles complains to LiPo how there was no mention of her pride of cats and kittens in the article...

We find out, also that the man who led us here is Robert, who is Giggle's ex-... something... (Husband, Boyfriend... not sure)... He's a recent arrival, one of many, to the Jungle having been swept out of another area further up the creek.

“There seems to be a lot more people here,” LiPo observes.

“There are,” Patty tells us. In the past month, three other areas have been cleared of homeless and they've mostly ended up in the Jungle. Many are still settling in.

Not long after I'm not thinking about any of this as I hug the main branch on this swaying, twisting tree for dear life. Troy seems to be giddy, but LiPo seems to share my terror as he grits through it and snaps pictures with his iPhone or Android... or whatever smart thing it is...
“There she is!” Troy says of Baby, who's on a branch just below us. “That cat's fearless!”

I'm not... I don't say it, but I'm about ready for a change of underwear. “I'm going down now,” I told him, finally getting up enough nerve to say it.

I can still feel the tree's twist and sway even with my feet firmly on the ground. We sit with Troy for a spell, and finally, LiPo has to leave. He's on his way to take the family to Monterey for a weekend excursion.

LiPo says goodbye to Troy, and he and I walk back to his car. I promise to call and keep him posted on any developments.

“Yeah, and if' there's no story here, I'll just find someone to stab me... that'll get you one,” I said. It's a bad, bad joke I've been telling for days. Half, I suppose, to ward off danger by being contrarian, and half to tell myself how ridiculous it is to be afraid...

I've been living homeless for more than three bloody years! I've no right to fear anything!

I'm telling myself this as I watch LiPo drive away, and turn, and walk back down the main ramp back into the maze I found in The Jungle...


To Be Continued...