Bad People

I asked Elaine about the screaming, terrified woman in bed B.
“She’s crazy. I don’t know her name, ” said Elaine.
I wondered aloud if the constant screaming bothered Elaine.
Did Elaine have any thoughts about the roommate’s affliction?
“She probably brought it on herself. People do that you know. Most likely she’s a bad person.”

 I don’t think that way, said I. No one is bad. No one is being punished. People are just mistaken sometimes.
Long pause, while she looked me in the eye. “That’s bullshit, “ said Elaine. “Plain bullshit.”
You mean people are bad? Said I.
Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. People are bad. She’s bad and now she’s suffering.

I was silenced and Elaine went on eating her thick chicken soup –
industriously, intently, spoonful after spoonful
until it was finished.

“Good soup,” she said, while
the woman in bed B went on with her wail.