First it was just once in a while at parties, but it wasn't long before my buddies and I were smoking every weekend. Katie had never touched the stuff... I had tried talking her into it on a couple of occasions to no avail. Her biggest hang up was that it was i*****l, so I figured she might try it here in Jamaica since it was so ingrained in the culture. To my slight surprise, she put up no protest and I sat down on the couch to role a joint. Katie strode over to the stereo and plugged in her MP3. I knew that was bullshit. In her mind, she probably saw Jacky rush onto the bus with me and dive straight into my lap…I looked up from my sandwich. “Tensely. Is that a word? It doesn’t sound like a word. Did I just make that word up?”She narrowed her eyes at me. “How are you in AP English? Yes, tensely is a word.” She snapped her fingers at me. “Now stop trying to change the subject.”She was kind of pissing me off…I gave her a dark look. “There’s nothing to talk about. She hates me. I don’t. It was clear that the woman was suffering from depression and possibly worse: PTSD. Regrettably, there was very little that I could do for her. We certainly didn’t have the personnel, the medicines, or the facilities to treat her. All I could do was to speak to her, and listen to what she said.My gut feeling was that Gloria shouldn’t be left alone. While I definitely wanted a trained medic here at the base or living with Burton in whatever settlement he built, I felt that Gloria shouldn’t be. I mean that is like totally scary as d-_-mn h-_-ll even for a believer in God, not to mention, or let alone for a non-believer to have to think about, & to have to think that to add some, or such insult to injury that a police-officer, or cop was one of the casualties being of whom had been dropped by this mad shooter's actions of possibly a supposed, or so-called personal-vendetta, or grudge-match, one of my spider-men of officer-friendly, don't f with the marines, cock-sucker, with your,.