I followed Ryan to a dimly lit corner booth. The moment I sat down, the Chinese lady was at our table. She placed a bottle of cheap Tequila, along with a glass, in front of Ryan, and looked at me expectantly. I handed her a hundred dollar bill and asked for a Bud Light. When she brought my beer, she handed me four ones. I looked after her as she walked away, about to make a fuss, and wondering if I should, when Ryan said, "Tom, I hope that was alright. She took my bar tab out. Don't be mad?"

I sighed and put my wallet back in my jacket. "Okay. That s alright." Then I got angry. "Dammit, Ryan! What the hell happened to you? You had it all, man. How could you piss it all away? How could you turn into - what is it, man? Drugs?"

Ryan closed his eyes and massaged his left leg. He shook his head. "No. I use them when I can get them, but it s not really drugs." He poured himself a huge shot and downed it with shaky hands. He smiled wryly. "I drink too much. I m probably an alcoholic by now. But Lord, I have some good reasons."

I was now in a bad mood. "Crap. Everybody has stuff go wrong in their life! That's no reason."

Ryan interrupted. "Oh, fuck you! You don't have the slightest clue!" He started to get up, then sat back down slowly. After a moment, he said softly, "I m sorry. Hey, I apologize for sticking you with my tab. I won't lie. I ll never be able to pay you back."

I waved my hand at him. "Forget it. I guess I can afford it."

We sat in silence for a moment. Suddenly, Ryan said, "Tom, do you remember our trip to Mexico our senior year?"

I laughed grimly. "Yeah. The spring break from Hell." Ryan nodded. "There were four of us. You, me, Bill Molina, and - oh, yes, Toby."

He wiped at his eyes. "Tom, you and me are all that's left. I heard Bill died in a hunting accident."

I said slowly, "I didn't know about Toby. What happened?"

Ryan slugged another drink and shuddered. "Well, I guess a hunting accident is what they say when the parents don't want to admit he stuck a shotgun in his mouth. And Toby? He jumped off a bridge, into the river bay several months ago. By the time they found his body, guess it was a couple weeks, there was just nothing left. He sleeps with the fishes that ate him."

I suddenly wished I had a stiff drink in front of me. I drank half the bottle of Bud Light instead. "Whoa. This is all news to me. I didn't know about any of this stuff."

Ryan nodded sadly. "Yeah. That trip to Mexico. Yucatan. Puerto. But it was your stupid idea to get off the beaten path. All we wanted to do is drink Coronas and get laid. But we followed your damm advice and went up into the hills."

"Hey, I didn't screw that gal," I said defensively.

"True. You were so sick you could barely walk. I was the one that had sex with the daughter of the local Indian chieftan. I was drunk. How was I to know he wanted me for a son-in-law? We just wanted fun. They were serious. We all drank that horrible kickapoo joy juice, or whatever that crap was, and then we dishonored their women. And instead of marrying them, we left as fast as that old Jeep could go. All except for you, who slept through the whole thing."

"Yeah, I know," I said sullenly, looking at the bubbles in my beer.

Ryan laughed, then winced in pain. "Oh, man. You don't know shit, Tom!" He leaned back and closed his eyes. "There was this old, whitehaired witch. The local form of voodoo, or mojo, or heap big medicine - whatever. She was a witch! She cursed us as we left. She said the cholo pesadilla would come for us. So we stepped on the gas, got back to town. And left the country."