It was one of the first things I knew about him. Him. I met Jack Twist when my truck broke down goin to a dance one night. I got certain signs, but afterwards when I propositioned him, he turned cold as stone, like ice, like death. I though maybe I made a mistake, but there couldn't be... He agreed an he and I started up this thing we had goin on for several years. But he was in it, too, like he'd been on that bench outside of the dance hall.
Sort of like a tattoo- you carry it with you everywhere, can't take it off. Doesn't matter if I like it or not, because he could not take it off. That frozen face would come after sex, and I knew that it wasn't me Jack Twist had been sleeping with.
Tell you the truth I didn't much care. I was gettin whut I needed. I was probably the only one.
The first time Jack and I- well, it was awkward as hell. Jack done it with plenty of men, same true with myself... we were both over-eager, but there was something edging on finality for him. When he gave me good as I got, somehow I knew it wasn't for me he was givin. Whether it was rage or agony or somethin else I just don't know.
I was good friends with Jack Twist for a while, but he never said a word about it. Not one single, solitary word. Not a muttered sleep-word, not a sigh with a name, nothing. I never got that man's name.
But all the same I was in a relationship with him.