"That drawing, the one of the Medallion of Zulo?" I was now pointing atthe picture, shaking in disbelief. Now it was Jase's turn to gape."What do you ...now about the Medallion?" His eyes locked with mine and azap of horrified recognition passed between us. We both knew.We were both victims of Zulo.* * *We did a lot of talking over the course of the weekend, in a marathonfuelled by drink and cigarettes. Jase told me his story first. It hadbegun when he was a little girl named Melissa and he'd. She looks down. Not never.I lean up for a second, put my hand on her left breast.What do you mean? Have you done drugs?She nods. A little in college. Nothing major. I told you that.I don’t remember you saying that. Maybe.You never listen.You were so straight-laced!When I dated a football player. A little pot. A little coke.Wow. My wife the drug queen. She doesn’t smile.It wasn’t like that. Extremely casual and extremely rare. When we broke up, I never did it again.I keep rubbing her tit. This. More

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