It was the second military checkpoint and the seat of the old jeepney was feeling warmer every minute. “Yawa, ma-late man sad tag samot ani,” Christine mutters under her breath dabbing her handkerchief on the top of her forehead. What was even the purpose of waking up at 4:00 AM, going out of her house at 5:30 AM, and still sweating inside this creaking jeepney at 7:30 AM?
An old man holding a bucket of fish between his legs casually asks the conductor when the military checkpoints will stop. “Ah, murag dugay pa. Daghan man gud gabakwit nga Muslim, kulbaan si mayor basin naay masulod nga mga bomba,” Lots of Muslims seeking refuge. The mayor is scared. Bombs might enter the city. The conductor says to the old man then taps the roof of the jeepney. The driver takes the signal and rushes off.
Christine slumps into the corner of the jeep thinking how much she had to pay for her late fines again. However, she still hears the other passengers talking about the Muslims evacuating in the city and snippets from the news about how the senators were arguing if there was really an ongoing war in Mindanao. Christine read about wars in their social studies class and there was always the mention of generals, soldiers, and death. She sees the soldiers from the military checkpoint but it doesn’t feel scary. Maybe some of those senators were right. There has to be no war. War can’t be this peaceful. Well, it wasn’t her concern so Christine’s thoughts wandered to her high school. The Homeroom class was probably already ongoing.
When she got to school, she had to list her name on the Late List but found it funny that her friend, Amina, was also listed there. Christine enters the classroom and sees Amina on their assigned table at the front leftmost of the classroom: close to the board to listen but still out of a teacher’s direct vision. There was no teacher present which was good for Christine. Amina was already holding a paintbrush filling in the grass spaces of their sketch from yesterday. “Amina! I saw your name on the list. We should have just gone late together.” Christine placed her backpack on the floor beside her chair and took a paintbrush from Amina’s pencil case.
“Yeah. Pisti gali, I did not want to be late but my uncle and his kids arrived from Marawi. We had to clean the extra rooms in the house.”
“From Marawi? Why?”
“They said there’s a war. They escaped last night.”
Wow, so there was a war happening.
“What do you think the colors of the sky should be? I found these photos from the internet.” Amina shows Christine a couple of pictures from her phone that showed skies and clouds in different colors. One was a mixture of light green and pink, while the other one showed violet and orange. “How about we just combine the colors we like? To have that dreamy effect, you know?” Christine says looking at the pictures from Amina’s phone. Amina considers for a moment and agrees.
It was the end of the homeroom period but instead of their Christian Living teacher, Teacher Mary, their adviser, entered. Teacher Mary announces that their next class will be canceled because of the scheduled earthquake drill. While the teacher was announcing the reminders, someone tapped Amina’s shoulder. It was Gino.
“Ams, they said there are more Muslims in the city right now. You are not lonely anymore.”
Christine furrows her brows. Why would Amina be lonely? She had Christine as her friend.
Gino held Amina’s hijab. At the same time, Christine audibly gasped and Amina quickly slapped Gino’s hand away and shouted, “Can you stop?!” Men aren’t allowed to touch the hijab of a woman. Teacher Mary’s head swiftly turned around in their direction but when she saw it was Amina who made the noise, she just said, “Quiet, class.”
“But Teacher, Gino touched Amina’s hijab.” Christine points at Gino who is quietly laughing. Teacher Mary glanced at Amina and then directed her sight to Gino. “Gino, don’t touch Amina’s hijab. Or do you want to be a Muslim so you can have one?” This garnered a response from the class with their classmates teasing Gino and Amina.
“Aww, pwede. You can marry lots of women there, right?” Gino quips, raising one of his eyebrows.
“Yawa ra, who even wants to marry you?” Christine says thinking of ways she can shave that eyebrow.
“Christine! No cursing. Ms. Secretary, list Christine’s name for a fine.” Really? Christine thinks. Amina was also obviously annoyed. Christine is fined but Gino gets away from touching her hijab.
“You should also convert Chris, so I can marry you both,” Gino whispers to Christine. Amina hears it and Christine knows she is mad. “Gino, shut up or I’ll have your house bombed,” Amina whispers to Gino. Christine knew that Amina was only joking, albeit a bit threatening, to Gino. It worked as Gino instantly stepped back with wide eyes although Christine wonders if Amina did have bombs in their house. She remembered their house but it was just like any other house except Amina’s father loved playing Arabic songs.
Teacher Mary told them to wait for the bell as a signal for the earthquake drill and went outside the room. Amina and Christine continued painting their clouds in different colors but Amina was quiet throughout. Christine knew she was mad at Gino but she knew it was not just Gino. She had always noticed how other students’ and teachers’ eyes would linger on Amina’s hijab or her long-sleeved uniform in contrast to everyone’s short sleeves. She noticed how Amina would go quiet every time someone brought up the conflicts.
Amina would say, “Mura sa’g ang mga Kristiyano dili gauna ug pang-gyera.” As if Christians don’t start wars. The whispering and the stares became worse when the news about Marawi reached their city. Christine does not watch the news but she hears of it at home, the jeepney, or the market. She could also hear Gino and his friends talking about it in the classroom and they occupied most seats.
The bell rang. The earthquake drill was starting. Christine and Amina immediately went to duck under their tables as they were taught but then they heard Gino shout, “The Muslims are here to bomb us!” Then laughter.
Christine saw Amina’s face turn red and she felt her cheeks burn and her nails digging into her palm. Everyone was under their tables but she could hear their classmates laughing while the bell rang loudly. Christine hated it. Christine knew Amina hated it and if there were other good private schools in their small city, she knew Amina would not be there. Christine stood up and looked for Gino’s table. She saw Gino’s cropped hair and pulled his uniform dragging him out from under the table. They stand at the same height forcing Gino to meet Christine’s eyes at the same level. His eyes widened and before he could react, Christine got to him first. A punch directly to his face and Gino’s body fell with a thud to the floor.
There was a collective gasp inside the classroom. Christine’s fist burned. Gino was prey on the floor. Christine’s foot was on Gino’s chest and she was about to stoop down to grab his polo uniform and punch him again when she heard Teacher Mary shout, “Christine Dela Cruz! What are you doing?”
Only then could Christine hear the bell ringing again. Amina was beside her and kicked Gino’s leg first before dragging her out of the classroom. They ran. They ran so hard through the mob of students doing the earthquake drill. They could hear a few calls asking them to stop but they were too afraid that their teachers could catch up to them. However, despite the fear, there was elation. Christine’s heart could burst and if it were at this moment, she would not mind at all.
“Do you think they will expel me?” Christine asks while panting heavily when they reach their hideout.
“Suspension, probably but I think they will find a way to make me the reason for it. If they consider expulsion, between the two of us, I think they would rather keep a Christian.” Amina says. Christine loves God but is unsure if she is Christian enough. She can’t even stay awake during the rosary.
Amina was holding the top of her hijab that got a bit displaced when they ran. They sat together on the floor. Christine offers her phone’s camera to Amina and while fixing her hijab, Amina speaks. “They are so dumb. Anything about killing and they blame us. The Qur’an tells us that one of the greatest sins is to kill other human beings. Anyone who does so is not a real Muslim. It is even the same with one of your Ten Commandments. ‘Thou shall not kill’ but Christians kill each other all the time. It’s all over the news but people only seem to care of mentioning religion in murders if it’s with mine.” Christine knew it was true.
They sat beside each other cursing at Gino and his friends, Teacher Mary for not caring, the difference between Christians and Muslims, and how Jesus would probably hate their school. They did not enter any of their classes and ate their lunch with the food in their lunch boxes. Christine had pork adobo. Amina had chicken.
Hours passed and it was almost sunset.
“Is your mother going to get mad if you go home late?” Amina asks while they lie on the floor looking at the sky.
“Nah. I’ll just tell her that the traffic’s heavy at the checkpoints,” Christine responds.
The two girls watched the clouds pass and form different shapes with different hues of orange, violet, and pink. As they watch the colors mix in the sky, Christine is reminded of the painting she and Amina made that morning. Maybe if God and Allah were different separate beings, they must have had fun painting the clouds. Maybe, just like Christine and Amina, they were also friends despite the difference.
Carlo Moldes 
Charles Gollayan 
Andi Mayari 
Froilan II D. Pariñas 
Alden Arsèn