don’t wanna hear about all of that, but it’s true! She was built like no other!” Nix laughed lightly. “She wouldn’t let me get away with the stuff I’d gotten away with when I’d been with other women. And I liked that. We ended up gettin’ married and settling down and all of that stuff. Then you came along…”
Dad drew hard on the cigar and placed it back down. Nixon debated offering him a joint, too, but thought better of it. “You were a surprise.” He snickered.
“A surprise? Now that’s the first I’ve heard of that. No one ever told me I was a mistake. Well, some ex-girlfriends have, but not you or Ma.” Nixon chuckled.
“I mean, it happened so quick. It’s like we got married, then bam! She’s pregnant.” Dad laughed. “Three more kids, two houses, and five cars later… then a divorce… a damn divorce. I never saw it comin’, Nix. I knew we were having some issues. I knew your mother was complaining, telling me I didn’t listen, that I was difficult, all that shit. She’d told me she wanted space… that I was smothering her and that she was evolving. That was her favorite word.” He rolled his eyes. “Evolving. I thought it was another man. She swore it wasn’t. I asked if it was the drinking, so I promised her I’d try and slow down on it. She said it was too late for that and it was just one of many problems.
“I slowed down on it anyway, but she was right, it didn’t matter anymore. I was hurtin’ real bad, Nix. It’s like, no matter what I did at that point, it wasn’t good enough.”
“I had an ex-girlfriend tell me one time, Dad, that when a woman is fed up, that’s it. There’s nothing we can do about it. I tend to agree with that. Once they’ve gotten us out of their system, it’s pretty much a wrap. A woman has to be completely empty by the time that happens. It’s not even a blame game situation, a who did what sort of scenario. It’s just how she interprets what we did, how hurt she feels. Once they get to that point, that invisible area no one can see but them, that’s it. It’s really over. Men have that point, too. It just seems that we arrive much faster at that place than they do.”
“How do you figure that?”
“I consider myself well versed in the way women think.” His father’s interest was clearly piqued. “I know a lot about them. I’ve studied them since I was a kid. They intrigued me. I found them so different from me and my friends. I liked how they looked, how they spoke. I wanted to rein that in, seize it. I wanted to control that. I wanted to regulate that smile on their faces… be at the wheel. Something so beautiful and complicated… because they are quite complicated and could be manipulated, if you push the right buttons. I look at it like this. Every woman has a code, kind of like a password. Those passwords have a few of the same letters and numbers, but they are never duplicated. The similarity, however, is just enough to be able to tap in, you see? The myth that women don’t want sex, or are shyer about sex is just that, a myth. Sometimes they want it more than we do. I realized early on, Dad, that something I enjoyed I could use to get my way and control their mood at the same time. I hate seeing women cry, so when they would, I would turn away… Because I knew I was the reason.
“I was aware that the walls I put up would have caused it. The barriers to keep them away was creating strife. My lack of commitment, too, or even sometimes my cruelty. I cause women to fall in love with me quickly. I know exactly what to do. I become who they want, and I do that shit very well.”
“So, you’re acting? It’s all fake?” Dad asked, abhorrence in his tone.
This is the turning point… How much of myself will I share with him? Will I open the door and let him enter? Honestly, this is a big part of my life. It is a 24/7 thing – because I am Raze the Satyr to some degree, throughout all of my waking hours. It’s not just sexual, it is a part of my personality. Dad