Free A Darkening Stain by Robert Wilson

“buts”. You’ve softened me up. Ask your question.’
    â€˜What’s the attraction?’
    â€˜Of the work?’
    â€˜It’s not the money, is it?’
    â€˜Why do you think Bagado likes the work?’
    â€˜Note,’ she said, pointing at the imaginary stenographer, ‘he didn’t answer the question. Bagado, well, Bagado has different motives. He has a
sincere
belief that he’s acting for the force of good against evil. He’s on a mission, a crusade.’
    â€˜And I just like rummaging in drawers.’
    â€˜Maybe that’s it.’
    â€˜I’m not as cynical as you might think.’
    â€˜Most of the time you seem to be acting for the good.’
    â€˜That sounds like Bagado talking,’ I said.
    Silence.
    â€˜You never told me very much and nowadays even less,’ she said.
    â€˜I don’t tell Bagado either. He’s a policeman. I can’t. And anyway, you don’t want to hear.’
    â€˜True.’
    â€˜So what does Bagado say about me?’
    â€˜You won’t like it.’
    â€˜Maybe I’ll withdraw the question then. I get enough unpalatable stuff rammed down my neck all day without having to hear what my friends say about me, behind my back, to my wife.’
    â€˜Not yet, Bruce.’
    â€˜Not yet what?’
    â€˜I’m not yet your wife.’
    â€˜I said
wife?
’
    â€˜Your slip’s showing. The Freudian one.’
    I reached over. She leaned back. I ran my hand up the back of her neck. She resisted. I forced her into a kiss until she broke away.
    â€˜I won’t take that as a proposal. If it’s subliminal it doesn’t count,’ she said. ‘It’s still in the head.’
    â€˜And you want it from the heart.’
    â€˜I didn’t want it to sound
too
much like romantic trash.’
    â€˜Leave that to me, I’m good at the pulp end of things.’
    I got an inadvertent look.
    â€˜What else has Bagado said to you?’
    She shrugged and sipped her glass, which was empty.
    â€˜You two’ve been going through my school report again.’
    â€˜He doesn’t think you’re
bad...’
    â€˜I know, I know ... he thinks I’m “morally weak”.’
    â€˜He thinks your only guiding principle is your own fascination.’
    I called Helen in with the Red Label. She dragged it in kicking and screaming. I poured a finger and brimmed it with water.
    â€˜One thing you might want to remember is that if Bagado hadn’t come along, I wouldn’t be involved in
any
of this. I was doing fine until...’
    â€˜
He
embroiled you in
his
crusade?’
    â€˜Yes, I think that’s fair. He’s the one who involved me in bigger things. People killing and getting killed and sometimes for no other reason than a base human emotion like ... jealousy.’
    â€˜Jealousy?’ she said with mock outrage, not rising to the bait. ‘Jealousy’s a
very
strong emotion.’
    â€˜Especially sexual jealousy ... so I’ve heard.’
    â€˜Maybe for men.’
    â€˜No, no, women too. How’d you like it if I told you I’d been sleeping with somebody else, you pregnant and all.’
    Her face stilled in an instant and she started in on me, eyes jutting.
    â€˜See what I mean?’
    She sat back, caught out.
    â€˜You and I are different,’ she said.
    â€˜No, we’re not.’
    â€˜Our relationship is based on sex.’
    â€˜Is it?’ I asked.
    â€˜That’s how it started, remember the desert?’
    â€˜The
ground,
’ I teased.
    â€˜Piss off.’
    â€˜There
is
more than just sex ... isn’t there?’ I said, reaching for her hand.
    â€˜Sometimes,’ she said, allowing me a fingernail. ‘And if you did sleep with someone else, whether I was pregnant or not, I’d ... I’d...’
    â€˜I believe you.’
    â€˜How did we get on to people killing each