A Cozy Pack--With No Parents : TODAY’S YOUTH: They cruise the Carlsbad mall and sleep in a secret canyon hideaway. They’re the Mall Rats, a tightly-knit group of runaways and castoffs who have created their own society without parents.

Jasmine has this nasty little cough. It’s the deep hack of a veteran chainsmoker, or someone who’s been sleeping on the ground a lot. Lately, the 14-year-old Oceanside girl has been doing both.

She woke up feeling cold the other morning. Despite bedding down in two pairs of pants, a sweater and a jacket the night before, she still felt the shivers. She rolled out of her sleeping bag, shook the ants from her shoes and started to cough.

Dressed in black, wearing no makeup but a smear of ruby lipstick, she looked disappointed at what the morning had brought, as if to say: I left a warm bed at home for this?

Not far away, under his own thin blanket, 18-year-old Rob Crow shifted from a fetal position. Nearby, three other teen-agers sprawled together beneath a makeshift plywood covering.

Farther down the dusty ravine, another youth dozed inside a mattress box. Still another slept atop a wooden plank wedged into the canyon wall--the prized master bedroom to this teen-age shantytown.

The youths are North County runaways, suburban hobos rather than hardened street people. Instead of working the railroad yards or the local soup kitchens, they cruise the nearby mall.

They even have a name for themselves--the Mall Rats--for the long hours many spend hanging around nearby Plaza Camino Real mall in Carlsbad--smoking cigarettes, playing video games, lounging at fast-food restaurants, making enemies of a growing number of irritated mall merchants.

Each night about 11 p.m., the homeless youths meet outside a nearby taco shop, often joined by other suburban youths,many seeking the thrill of an unexplained night or two away from home.

Together, sometimes holding hands, they take the spooky 2-mile walk to a secluded spot they call “Happy Camp.”

Since mid-summer when they formed the camp, the group has exposed itself to the outdoor life--suffering the insects, chilly nights and persistent illnesses--in an effort to create their own close-knit society without parents.

Lure of Exotic Life Style?

Parents say the camp is full of gullible youths who think that being homeless is somehow an exotic life style. And each day that the youths stay away from home increases the stakes in a defiant family power play that local social service officials say they are hard-pressed to stop.

Although many homeless adults opt for a loner’s life-style, runaway children will often cling to each other for security, social workers said.

The existence of the Mall Rats illustrates something else, they say--there are no long-term shelters for homeless teen-agers in North County. And there are too few groups to actively reach out to runaways.

“The sad thing is, we’re talking about kids who have to choose for themselves to get help, get a counselor or report to a homeless shelter, which isn’t always easy for someone so young,” said Marylou Sauerborn, director for the Ecumenical Center in Oceanside.

“But there’s nothing any of us can do unless the kid decides he wants help. Even then, there’s not enough places where they can go.”

For the Mall Rats, the place to go for help is Happy Camp.

For about 2 dozen youths between 14 and 20, the hide-out provides a respite from the homes they can no longer tolerate, a stomping ground for their domestic rebellion.

They are youths who eat three fast-food meals a day and take their showers in the sink of a public restroom. Dressed in black leather jackets, tattered blue jeans and flannel shirts, they are kids who can never seem to wipe the sleep from their young eyes.

At Happy Camp, every teen has a tale. Members call them “sob stories,” some of which have been entered into a camp diary.

They are not gang members, the youths say--just wild horses, distinguished from other teen-agers by lack of communication with their parents and a little bad luck.

Many say they left broken homes with abusive and alcoholic parents. Or ones that never listened, didn’t care. Their family relationships were built on sarcasm, they said.

One youth said he foolishly left home last year when he became angry that his father suddenly cleaned his bedroom--now he’s been told not to come home. Another left because he was afraid of his father, “an ex-Marine, religious zealot.”

Still another said he called his parents’ bluff when they challenged that he could either do things their way or get out. He left that day, he said.

At the camp, the youths try to maintain some semblance of the teen-age life. A few hold down jobs at local fast-food joints. Some part-time camp residents--who rotate between their beds at home and sleeping outside--even attend high school now and then.

Life at the camp, they say, is a family affair. The teen-agers chip in to buy food, medicine, cigarettes--and sometimes drugs and alcohol.

When someone talks of suicide, fellow campers offer them counseling, they say--providing the attention they couldn’t find at home.

And, when a new youth hits the streets, the group offers a place to sleep until he or she can decide whether to return home.

The Mall Rats move their campsite often to avoid harassment by police, they said. Last week, several youths agreed to lead a reporter to the spot on the condition that its location be kept secret.

“This is the place to go when you’ve got nowhere else to go,” said Rob Crow, a blond teen who said his mother forced him to leave his Oceanside home.

Like many others, his transition from messy bedroom to sleeping bag did not come at once. The teens have moved between apartments, living with strangers, in the back seat of a car or the floor of a parent’s garage, until they were either ripped off or ran out of money.

Until they found the Mall Rats.

“Coming to the camp is better than sleeping alone in the bushes some place,” said Crow, who wore a bright green bandanna over his head, Gypsy-style. “We’re all kind of related. It’s like a family, in a way. Here you have the unity of friends who won’t let you get hurt.

“Without each other, we’d be screwed. What holds this place together is that everybody really loves each other. And the fact that nobody has anywhere else to go.”

Many Mall Rats, however--youths like Jasmine--have families who are waiting for them to come home.

“These kids call themselves a family. Well, that girl has a real family right here at home that loves her very much,” said Jasmine’s 34-year-old mother, a housewife and part-time exotic dancer.

Recent months have brought tension with Jasmine, the couple’s oldest child, the mother of five said. After a family quarrel, Jasmine ran away. She moved into the camp for two weeks before being taken home by police.

Last week, she returned for another night. Her parents say they don’t know how to keep her at home.

“People are making these kids out to be Robin Hood’s merry band of men,” she said. “They’re not. They’re hoodlums. And my daughter’s become incorrigible. She thinks the life they lead is exciting, that it’s better than sitting home doing nothing.

“When you have a child, they don’t give you an owner’s manual. You don’t know what to expect at 50,000 miles, when they turn into teen-agers.”

Jasmine’s father, a North County engineer, is equally baffled by his daughter’s behavior. “This is the same child who, when she sleeps at home, has to have someone else in the room with her,” he said.

“But she can sleep in the trees and not be scared. I’m at a total loss.”

Jasmine, he says, is like other confused teens who decide that running away is easier than dealing with family problems.

“She’s trying to take the easy way out, and these older kids are giving her the chance. There’s no hard discussion at the mall, nobody asks her any tough questions there.”

The father said he has been down the list of social service agencies for advice on how to handle his daughter. “I’ve called everybody, including ‘Tough Love,’ which tells me to lock her out.

“Well, it doesn’t work. And there’s no real person to talk to to find out exactly what does work. At our house, it’s not a two-way conversation, and I don’t know how to keep it going myself.

“Jasmine’s a headstrong child. But I still love her very, very much. But I’m also angry. Because I don’t know what I did to turn one daughter away from her family.”

Several officials with social service agencies said there is no easy answer to the problem. Estimates even vary on the number of homeless teen-agers living in San Diego County. One county agency estimated that there are at least 1,000 homeless youths between 16 and 19.

“There’s only guesses,” said Sharon Wiggins, associate executive director of San Diego Youth and Community Services, which operates three shelters, including one for homeless teens in downtown San Diego.

No Long-Term Facilities

Although there are a few places where teens can stay on a temporary basis--including a Carlsbad shelter where runaway youths can sleep for one night while they decide whether to return home--there are no long-term homes in North County for runaway youths, social workers say.

“There are homes for pregnant teens and abused children and homeless adults and their dependants,” said Kay Hill, a crisis intervention counselor for the Escondido Youth Encounter.

“But most of my referrals are for kids already in the social service system, things like court referrals. I’m frustrated to come up with anything for runaway kids who are on the street.”

For the Mall Rats, the weather should take care of their homeless problem, Wiggins said--after the first good rain, many of the youths will probably return home.

“Building a surrogate family on the street is not uncommon for kids to do. It’s happened before,” she said. “But, sooner or later, the wheels come off--somebody finds something else to do, somebody goes home or somebody gets hurt.”

Weary of Looking for Help

Eighteen-year-old George Mosen has grown weary of help from social service groups.

“I’ve been through the social service system with my parents--it just doesn’t bring results,” said the teen, whose leather jacket was emblazoned with the word “exploited” across the back. “They’re only around for so long. Then they go back into the woodwork.

“Eventually, they leave you alone with your problems. I don’t need them. I’ve got my family here and my sleeping bag. I’m just fine.”

On a recent weekday afternoon, Mosen and six other Mall Rats lounged at the Taco Bell at Plaza Camino Real. Nobody had any money except Jasmine, who pulled out a $10 bill to buy tacos for everyone.

“I’ve never seen a closer-knit family,” said Joel, 16, “except maybe Little House on the Prairie, Beaver Cleaver or the Brady Bunch. We’re all friends for life, that’s the cool part.”

Joel wore what he called his uniform of rebellion: a white T-shirt, black vest and pants. The redhead is one of the part-time camp-dwellers. He sleeps at home during the week but visits his friends on weekends.

Keeping It Simple

The group’s rules are simple, he said: Nobody fights, nobody steals. Anyone with money is encouraged to share it with others. Drugs and sex are OK.

“Sometimes people pool their money for pot or acid,” he said. “Those that don’t do drugs are the baby-sitters. They protect the others from doing something outrageous, like wandering off and getting hit by a car.”

Mall Rats spend their day smoking cigarettes, playing games at a video sales store, smoking more cigarettes, meeting more Mall Rats.

The group has become idolized by several teen-age girls, who follow members as though they were some modern-day James Deans, rebels without a cause.

The mall merchants aren’t so enamored. In a typical tactic, the taco shop manager ordered the group out of the shop when they finished their food.

Other merchants have banned the group entirely from their stores--even if they have money to spend. The kids, they say, chase away customers. They’re often loud and messy and even damage seats with lighters and knives.

Mall security officers, many of whom know the youths by their first names, chase them away each time they gather in groups of more than four.

The rats recently became a hot topic at mall merchant meetings when one youth spit on the floor of a pizza shop. A manager chased down the teen-ager and spit in his face. Group members say the youth was a troublemaker and recently went to jail.

“Actually, I feel sorry for them,” said Tom Ferraro, assistant manager at Sbarro’s Pizza. “They left home because they weren’t getting any attention from their parents. So they’re out looking for attention in the mall.”

Amy Harris is one merchant who has befriended the Mall Rats. An assistant manager at the Burger King, she has gotten to know the teens and often takes a break to smoke a cigarette with them.

“They remind me of me several centuries ago,” said the former long-distance truck driver. “Rules are meant to be bent to a degree. And they bend them. These are the kids that nobody wants, which sucks. Anyway, I don’t have any children of my own, just 2 dozen Mall Rats.”

Life Style Wearing Thin

After several months, however, many of the teens said they are becoming bored with the rebel life. Many have begun to look for work or return to school.

Tired of sleeping on the hard ground, they’re not always happy campers. And some worry what will happen when colder weather sets in.

“You have a beach house, and you want to stay in a dirty ant-infested place, eat lousy meals and take the chance of getting killed?” said 18-year-old Robert Gordon, referring to his parent’s home he left behind. “It doesn’t make sense anymore.”

But, for many teens, going back home is a last resort. Anyway, things will get better, the Mall Rats say, when they can find an apartment to share. And 18-year-old Susan Crafton is determined to help them find one.

Each week Crafton, who lives at home with her mother, offers the teens hundreds of dollars earned from a part-time job. Recently, she took Jasmine to the doctor to see about her cough. The teens call her “Mom.”

Each payday, Crafton takes the Mall Rats out to eat--until her money runs out. “My mom says I’m insane, but she encourages it,” Crafton said. “My mother’s a saint, and that’s what drives me here, to give these kids the love I have.

“I mean, nobody should live outdoors like this. I’m going to see that they have a place to live together by Christmas.”

And that suits teen-agers like Jasmine just fine. After another sleepless night, she went home to work things out with her parents--this time, she hopes, for good.

“I’m not too fond of sleeping outdoors,” she said. “I don’t like being dirty. I don’t like sleeping with ants, and I don’t like going without a shower every day.

“I don’t like my parents always intruding into my life. But sometimes it just feels good to be home in your own bed.”