The Clock Strikes Twelve

Her cousin, Elena, goes through her closet as if she’s her fairy godmother, but Harlem didn’t need a wand waved over her wardrobe just to go to a block party. As usual, her cousin was being overzealous about an outing, but what could one expect from someone who treated a shopping trip like a red carpet event. Usually, Harlem enjoyed her cousin's antics when she was nowhere near them, of course. Who wouldn’t love being around a cousin who treated life just like a movie? The only problem was Harlem didn’t want to be a star. She just wanted to stay home and tend to her houseplants before cuddling up with a good book. Elena wasn’t having it though because today was the annual block party and Harlem had foolishly promised that she would go. At least, she didn’t have to stay there for long because Elena had sworn that it would be an in-and-out kind of event. 

“I should just stay in and order pizza,” Harlem says, sitting on her bed with a delivery app opened on her phone. 

Her cousin abruptly turns with a black mid-length skirt in her hands. She walks over to the bed, placing the skirt on it right under a pink blouse paired with a black vest she had already picked out. 

“Girl, you gonna order pizza when there’s about to be a whole feast at this block party? You serious?”

Harlem pouts, knowing her cousin was right. Any pizza she ordered would have nothing on the food that would be set out at the block party. In fact, Elena’s dad’s soul food restaurant was donating some food to the event. And there was nothing that could top Uncle Charles’s famous mac & cheese. Speaking of which, they were supposed to pick up his food to bring to the block party about twenty minutes ago. Harlem had tried to remind her cousin, but Elena had insisted that choosing a good outfit took time. 

“You right.” She concurs with a heavy sigh.  She stands up from the bed and warily eyes the outfit laid out in front of her. 

Her cousin, sensing her wariness reminds her that she had promised to wear whatever outfit she chose. With clear reluctance, Harlem grabs the outfit without any resistance. She goes into her cramped bathroom and puts the outfit on. When she walks out, her cousin pushes a mirror in her hand and orders her to sit in a chair in the living room. There she watches as her cousin works her magic with the makeup she grabbed from her purse. Once done, Elena orders her to lift the mirror and admire her work. 

Her cousin had gone for a light, airy look which made her look ethereal. You could stick her into a play about fairies and no one could tell the difference. At the moment, part of her didn’t feel like she was going to a block party, but a ball. The clock strikes twelve when she hears Elena’s phone ring. Elena picks up and tells her dad that she’s on her way right now to pick up the dishes, reminding him that beauty takes time. Harlem didn’t have to hear her Uncle’s voice to know that he was complaining in response because her cousin’s voice got louder, and she shouted love you, bye! 

“We gotta go,” Elena says, her voice coming out in a haste. 

She moves with quickness as she walks over to her purse that sits on the dining table. She tucks her phone into her purse and makes way for the door. 

“Come on cuz,” She continues and Harlem after grabbing her own purse trudges behind her. 

Harlem and Elena’s walk goes smoothly for the first five minutes, but soon Elena is going off course because she sees a friend of a friend. One thing about Elena is if you're close to someone in her circle, then you’re practically family. She talks to this person for a short time and invites them to come over to the block party. She also manages to name-drop her dad’s restaurant in such a casual way that if you didn’t know her, you would think she was making a suggestion rather than blatant advertising. If her cousin wasn’t a Sous Chef at her Uncle’s restaurant, she would for sure work in marketing because Harlem swore that her cousin could sell anything to anyone. That ten-dollar mop you know is definitely gonna break after a few times of use? Elena would somehow convince you to buy three. She was just that good. It was kind of scary sometimes. Though it gets a little annoying when Elena stops four more times and what should be a half-hour walk becomes twice that. Even worse, somehow they still weren’t even halfway there. 

“No more stopping.” Harlem pleads as she watches her cousin’s eyes widen as they pass some store. 

“We might need cups.” She reasons, then makes her way into the store, leaving Harlem on the street alone. 

Harlem stood by the store window, making sure she didn’t get caught in any stranger’s way. She waits. Five minutes that turn into ten. Just as she’s finally fed up enough to go in, she hears someone who wasn’t Elena calling out her name.

Harlem brightens as she greets her friend, Jess, who approaches her with a smile. Her friend compliments her outfit and makeup, praising Elena’s skills. Harlem thanks her, agreeing with the compliments, but changes the topic to complain about how long her cousin is taken. She then asks her friend where she’s heading over to now and much to her surprise they’re heading in the same direction.

“You’re going to the block party too?” Harlem says in shock. 

She was wondering just how many people she knew were attending. If there were too many people she recognized, then her dodging meter was going to be through the roof her whole time there. It wasn’t that she didn’t like interacting with people. Her social battery was just lower than the average, and sometimes it took a while to recover. Something that’s hard for her cousin to understand because she was such a being of boundless energy. 

“I come there all the time, but I’m shocked you’re going because this isn’t usually your scene.” 

“Yeah, you can thank Elena for that,” Harlem says with a slightly annoyed expression. “Though I’m starting to wonder if we’ll ever get there.”

Part of her was getting antsy, and she just wanted the whole thing over and done with already. 

“If you do manage to get there, they’ve got a neighborhood slam poetry contest going on. You should def enter.” 

Harlem couldn’t even finish an adult coloring book, so how could she read her poetry to a whole neighborhood? She shakes her head, grimacing at the idea of reading her own work on stage. Usually, she sent her work to those she was close to, and it seemed everyone around her had deemed her the belle of the ball, but as she’s told her cousin many times, she had no desire to be the star. 

“I hope you change your mind and stop depriving the world of your art.” Her friend encourages as her eyebrows knit in disappointment. 

She then tells her that she has to get going and leaves. Noticing her cousin still wasn’t there, she heads inside the store. She finds her cousin in the back of the store, holding a package of red cups in her hands as she talks to a store clerk about ice cream flavors. Harlem clears her throat, placing her arms over her chest as her cousin turns her head in her direction. 

“Elena, we’re late! Come on!” Harlem says in an aggravated tone. 

Elena apologizes, going to the front of the store and purchasing the cups. When everything’s ringed up, they finally leave the store. They move at a quicker pace than before and this time without further distractions end up at Uncle Charles restaurant, though much, much later than intended. He greets them both with frowns and tells Elena that he just sent one of his staff members to bring the food instead. 

Elena hands him the bag of red cups she’s holding and apologizes, but he waves her apology off, knowing that what’s done is done. She looks remorseful as she offers to take any leftover dishes over to the block party. Uncle Charles reveals that he has some dishes left, but he’ll take it all over himself. Elena uses her signature “let me have my way” smile and as always Elena’s dad gave in. Except, not fully because he was making sure that she went straight to the block party which means he was coming along. Harlem and Elena go to the kitchen and pick up a large row of aluminum pans. They place it in the back of Elena’s dad’s car, securing it before they close the door. After checking to make sure everything is in order and locking up the restaurant, they make their way to the car. Harlem moves to sit in the back, but her Uncle tells her to sit up front and makes Elena sit in the back instead, being that she was the reason they were late in the first place. 

At the block party, it had felt as if they had walked into a nineties’ music video. She knew there was a theme and her cousin Elena had actually stuck to it and looked like a lost member of SWV. Harlem, on the other hand, was giving off Laura in family matters vibes with her outfit. Even with an outfit very on theme for the event, Harlem still felt like she didn’t belong. 

As she and Elena head over to her Uncle Charles’s booth with aluminum pans stacks in their arms, she spots some familiar faces. She notes to avoid them, not being in the mood for small talk. Elena and her set the pans down at the booth and leave Uncle Charles to tend to it. It was time to party, so they went off and booth hopped, trying out various types of food. Soon everyone gathered to the stage where an announcement was being made. It was time for the neighborhood poetry contest. Harlem wasn’t really in the mood to watch it, but her cousin had insisted they stay, so she listened as people recited their prepared work. Then she hears the announcer call her name. 

Her head whipped in her cousin’s direction with a betrayed stare. Everything came together. This was why she had wanted her to come, and Harlem suspected that a lot of their stops were stalling, so they would get here on time for the contest. What could she do? She was now trapped and had no choice but to come to the stage. Her cousin whistles and claps loudly as Harlem makes her way up there. Elena stops once Harlem reaches the microphone set at the front center of the stage. Harlem didn’t have anything prepared, but she knew her notes app had a bunch of finished poems. Poems that were way too raw for her to look at twice. She finds the least personal one and begins to speak into the microphone. Her eyes stayed focused on her cousin, pretending everyone else wasn’t there. 

She finishes to applause. Her cousin is the loudest among them. She even spots her Uncle clapping from his restaurant booth. She walks off the stage and back towards her cousin. Her cousin intertwines their arms, praising her performance.

Harlem, who wasn’t as angry as she should’ve been, kept her focus on a random booth. She had done something she had never expected she was capable of doing, and it was thrilling. She had actually had fun on stage as she let her words speak and flourish into ideas in another person’s mind. Yet again she felt like Cinderella and just as before the clock strikes twelve as her cousin starts bragging about her handiwork.

With a smile on her face, she turns to her cousin and says. “I’m never going out with you again.”