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Chapter 3: Everybody calls her Nicky

3 Everybody calls her Nicky

Nicky had long thought about her name. Nicole Ann Dimasuhid. Her surname was in vernacular, a combined Cebuano words that can be translated as “cannot be copied.” Some said her surname just suited her well especially when during exams, she wouldn’t let anyone copy her answers. She took pride of her name as Nicole Anne—the only one. Can’t be copied. Like there was no other one like her. Yet somehow, she still didn’t like the sound of her full name.

“Do any of you really like your name?” Nicky suddenly asked while she and a group of her girl classmates were sweeping the classroom floor on a Monday morning. It was every student’s duty to do chores in school, “a way of teaching responsibility and discipline” as Mrs. Duhaylungsod, their principal, would put it. Besides, they never really had an everyday school janitor to clean up after themselves. Even if it was a science high school, it was still a small provincial public school in Siquijor—an island in the Central Visayas coined as the mysterious Isla del Fuego, an island of fire. Gone was the day Siquijor was known for its horrifying tales especially about witchcraft. These days, the small humble island had been flocked with tourists for its beautiful white-sand beaches and laid-back, peaceful, paradise feel.

Now Nicky really never knew or met anyone who practiced witchcraft. She had heard some fascinating and even sometimes frightening stories about them, but she never really believed in them, except that she believed Aunt Gracia, their next-door neighbor, looked very much like the way she supposed a witch should look. There were still a few quack doctors thriving in the mountains. But they never really passed as witches either. And if Nicky would hear some outsider picking on Siquijor and accusing it to dabble on witchcraft, she would not really correct the boorish person, instead she would go up to that person and say, “Oh, didn’t you know, Siquijor is just like Hogwarts, too. We get to study and learn some spells and tricks on how to enchant and jinx people. And I’m very good at it. I’m like the Hermione Granger in our class. I could try it on you, if you like.”

Nicky had always loved her small-town island—the beaches, the sceneries, the coconut trees, the good-natured people and the simple provincial life that went along with it. The island being formerly known for witchcraft had its perks too, especially in scaring off reproachful outsiders.

“What do you mean, Nicky?” Danica Laranjo, a petite girl with a long ponytail, asked, her voice squeaky.

“I mean, do you like how your name sounds and all? Does it speak of you? Is it you?”

“Why? You don’t like yours?”

“Yeah, I guess so. I feel like I am not Nicole Ann. I don’t like to be called Nicole Ann. I don’t even look like a Nicole Ann.”

“You’re talking crazy again,” said Priscilla, sneering. She had just joined in. She sat on an armchair, swaying her rebonded hair and watched as the rest of the girls swept the floor.

“Aren’t you supposed to be cleaning the backyard, Priscilla?”

“Well, it’s done.”

 Nicky glanced at the backyard through the windows and saw a group of their classmates still cleaning it. She then got a pen and a small notebook from her skirt pocket. She flipped open her notebook, found a blank page and wrote the date on the top page. Below it, she wrote “Not Cleaning” and put Priscilla Samson on number one.

“Go ahead, write down my name again if that is how you can get your grades up.”

“I am not doing this for grades,” Nicky replied with all conviction. “I’m doing this as your class president. I should see to it you should all be responsible for the task assigned to you.”