The moon had risen

  in a wash of cloud that squished it unperfectly round.  Skunk made his rounds undisturbed by the campers.  

  The poorer than poor kamp talk sputtered into that campfire space between resilience and giving up.  Still breathing so I'm guessing work in the a.m.?!  A man drying feet asked and told his woman.  Same as yesterday?  Or today?  Days are already blurring.

  Speaking of AM, did you guys hear on WLIK that I think it's Memphis is having a, like a sanctuary day?  Working with a church or something to help people sort through the whole criminal v just broke paperwork.

  Makes a big difference this time of year.

  Oh, this is normal?  I thought it was just, like, political change.

  That too I'm sure.

  None of it's gonna help me fix my roof.

    The small fire crackled, makeshift hearth.  We'd gotten some notebooks and were looking over budgets and trying to figure how people come up with $9000 just for heating and air.  We'd calmed down some from being chased and people we didn't even know had helped spread the word, they're not even Jewish or Iranistanians.  One guy tried to compliment by asking if we were sex slaves.

  I don't have sex for money.

  I do.  It's called marriage.

  I'm going over to bed.  You come home tonight 'stead a making extra money out there.  The man waved a cruddy boot in the direction of the road.

  We were girls.

  Eyes searched each others' faces sternly before a kiss.  Us girls looked at each other sternly too.  We stay put.  Agreed.

  It's never extra, the lady in the sweater assured.

  Extra?

  Money dear.  No such thing as extra.  Ever.

  It's the same back home.

  And where is that?

  One girl punched another's leg.  Ooowwwah Minnesota.

  Minnesota huh?  So this weather isn't real cold to you?

  No m'am.  I been in snow so deep it was like, like

  Like?

  Like totally deep.

  Good, you're an experienced survivalist.

  Sortah.

  You'll be fine with this one bundle of wood then, for the three days.  It wasn't a question.

  You still a virgin?  A gruff voice called into the tarped area.

  Then another man came crashing up the creek bank.  Who's he?  The gruff voice asked.

  A Native American, tracker.  Gonna help with the lumber stuff.

  That weird beetle thang?  A skinny guy in a leather jacket stuck his head out of the tarped area and asked.  Up from Panther Creek?  He also asked but we couldn't hear the answer.

  Go to sleep girls.  The mountains are, she made quote marks in the air, "under God" again.  Then the lady in the sweater left.  But a biker woman came back from the shower and sat near the fire.  Steam came off her hair.