Walls and I were standing on an isolated road in the country. We had apparently both bought a substantial amount of marijuana (perhaps 20-30 kilograms each) and we had been hiding the marijuana. Although I had a nice black car with me, I didn't hide my marijuana in the car. Instead I put the marijuana somewhere else where I thought it would be safe. Walls, however, put his marijuana in the car he was driving.

After we filled up both cars with gas, Walls drove his car a short ways down the road. He went around a curve, but had to stop. I walked up to his car and deduced that he was having car trouble; his car simply wouldn't run. Walls got out of the car and opened the trunk, which we immediately saw was full of gasoline. I saw the problem: a gas line was leaking and the gas was pouring out of it. I tried to stick some cellophane on the line, but the hole was so big I was unable to stop it up.

I was beginning to be concerned, because if the police came along, they might want to know what we were doing there and discover Walls' marijuana. I thought perhaps I should pull up my car and stash Walls' marijuana in my car. Walls opposed that idea, and I didn't press it, because I really didn't want Walls' marijuana in my car to begin with.

A car containing some of my family members pulled up. I boarded the car and asked to be driven back to my car. I was still unsure how I was going to help Walls.