Stated Love

Chapter 5

Mondays. I dread Mondays. I'm walking to my bus stop in the rain, and to make matters worse, I just missed the bus. There are two options before me:

1. Get a ride from Baba, since he's already on the way to work

2. Take city transit

Since Baba's probably already out, and I don't have a bus pass, I go with the third option:

3. Walk alone on a Monday morning in the cold, damp, rain.

On the sidewalk, I try my best to avoid puddles. There is no way I'm getting these babies wet; my Jordons mean more to me than my own phone. I contemplate running to the bus and waving my arms like a maniac. But as is, I'm the only 'darkie' on the bus, and I don't plan on drawing more attention to myself. 

Stupid Oakland. Stupid New Jersey. Stupid rain. Stupid, stupid, stupid-

Just then, a black Mercedes Benz with purple streaks and lights around the wheels dashes my way and almost runs me over. "Humaar (an Arabic insult, refering to someone as a donkey)!" I yell. The car stops instantly. I want to mutter a curse word so bad, but as I'm about to cuss the driver out, he drives past me, flips me off, and splashes the biggest puddle. At this point, my mouth is dragging down to my knees, and I'm raving mad (and soaking wet). I snap a picture of the license plate, and storm off. I'll file a report later.'Black Mercedes Benz with purple streaks all over and lights around the wheel'. Shouldn't be that hard to spot.

"Whoah, you're so wet. Did you walk here?" Addie asks as I take my seat in between her and Sam. I walk into science looking like a complete dweeb. "Yeah, I missed the bus. It wasn't that long a walk, just about fifteen minutes. And guess what, I almost got run over." The girls gasp and Mrs Armstrong snaps at me. "You're late, and yet you still want to make conversation?" I smile sheepishly. "Sorry Mrs Armstrong, I'm just conversing with my peers on what I missed in class," I turn to Addie and Sam. "What did I miss?" Addie cups her hands on the sides of her mouth. "Ashley and Zoe got into the biggest fight today before class, and-"                                          "She's talking about what she missed in class. All we really talked about was reviewing Friday's lesson, Neutron stars." Sam cuts her off. I turn my Mac book on and look through the PowerPoint presentation, taking notes. 

After my morning classes are over, It's finally lunch. Addie, Sam, and I are sitting at the court yard eating our lunches, when my phone starts vibrating and the Adhaan (Islamic call for prayer) goes off. I have it as a notification so that whenever it rings, I know it's time to pray one of our daily five prayers. I'm embarrassed, and Sam and Addie eye me in confusion. "What's that?" They don't say it rudely, they just don't understand. So I explain to them. "Us Muslims pray five times a day and what you just heard is the call for prayer. I just have it as a notification so that I know when it's time to pray." Sam's eyes widen. "Oh yeah, I knew you prayed five times a day, but I never realized how stressful it could be to keep track of time so it's great to have an app to remind you." Addie nods her head in agreement. "Ok, I need to go pray, so I'm going to find an area. The bell will probably ring by then, so I guess I'll just see you in class?" I pick up my bag. "Yeah, just text us when you're done." I walk to the front office, and I'm greeted by the moody secretary. Why are all school secretaries just plain rude? You're the face of the school, try and act a bit respectful. "Hi, er, I was wondering if I could have a space to pray, please." She looks at me as if what I said went through one ear and came out the other. I debate whether or not repeat myself. "Um, not that I know of," She turns back to her computer. "Look, I'm busy right now and I don't have time to look for a room." I take that as an invitation to leave. I turn on my heels and head to Mr.Kitchen's room. "Hey, Alaa, good to see you, what's up?" I clutch my muslaya (prayer mat) a little harder. "Great, I was just wondering if I could pray in your classroom. There's no multifaith room, or reflection room, or prayer room. I kind of have nowhere to go and you're a teacher I'm comfortable with." He frowns and stands up from his chair. "I don't see why you can't, but we actually have a spare room, it just hasn't been used in years. Did you ask around?" He paces around the room. "Yeah, but the secretary dismissed me." Just then Mr.Kitchen shows how quickly he can turn from egg white to tomato red. "That kind of behaviour is just unacceptable! Which secretary said this?" Honestly, I didn't want to make an issue. But I tell him anyways. "I'm having a word with the principal. Now come this way, I lead you to the room," After walking down the hall across his classroom, we enter a small room the smell of wood. "Don't worry, I'll speak to the custodians to get it in shape very soon. Do you need anything, a mat, or something to make you feel comfortable?" I hold up my muslaya. "No thanks, I've got my prayer mat," Just before he's about to leave, I stop him. "I'm sorry, and thank you, for caring." I feel warm, fuzzy, and awkward thanking him. "Don't you say sorry and don't worry at all, Alaa. You shouldn't need to apologize for your beliefs. I completely understand. I'm Jewish, and we pray three times a day, in the morning, afternoon, and evening. It can be tough navigating a western community where your customs aren't always welcomed, but don't be ashamed by it. Thank you for bringing this to my attention." He shuts the door and it's just me and my prayer mat.