Harlem Knights Pt.1

Harlem Knights

  I was in Atlanta, Georgia (Lithonia to be exact)! The warm weather, the lights, the big buildings, and even the smell of the city did something to my spirit. I was finally here, and the mere aroma of the streets made being crouched in the back of my aunt’s mini van for twelve long hours a small sacrifice for such an experience.

  My cousins, Nauji and Brucey, were graduating from high school, and I was really excited for their accomplishments and my own, but I was even more elated to be in the arms of (piece up A-town down). What 18-year-old wouldn’t be?

  I can remember getting on the train for the first time, I know the natives were probably extremely annoyed with me and my family as we turned their daily rutine into a full-fledged Terrell holiday. I can still hear my aunts and uncles screaming and hollering trying to figure out how to get on and off the train. I had turned the complete ordeal into a personal photo shoot. I was trying to make sure I would never forget a moment I’d spent here, and surely I wouldn’t.

  My cousins’ graduation ceremony had at least 400 graduates. It was monumental, but I had sat in an uncomfortable chair for about three hours, and I was in dire need of food to replenish my body. I was more than ready to get to the after party.

I don’t know if it’s a Terrell tradition or not, but we have to walk around the entire hotel and visit each other before any and every event when we are out of town. This event was no exception.

As I pranced down the plush halls of the Holiday Inn, still barely able to take in the fact that I was here, I noticed a guy standing in my cousin’s doorway. I hadn’t seen him at the graduation so ,of course, I was curious who this guy was. His back was turned towards me, and the first thing to catch my eye was his royal blue and white New York Yankee varsity jacket. I love varsity jackets so his fashion sense caught my eye immediately. He was tall, he had a Yankee fitted to match his jacket, and ,by golly, I had to speed up to see what he was all about.

  I was usually uninterested in any of my cousin Brucey’s friends. They were usually awkward weirdos, who thought they were so exclusive, and god’s gift to anyone because they were from Atlanta. I was never impressed, but this guy was different.

  I walked up on my cousin and his stylish guest, and made sure they saw me.

  “Hey Brucey,”. I said.

  Finally he turned around and the man was a finer than I could ever imagined. He had jet-black hair with waves so deep I was eager to jump in whether I could swim or not, hazel big brown eyes, a mustache that was big enough to notice, but small enough to not irritate my lips if we kissed, and his skin a light yellow that was smoother than butter on my grandmother’s biscuits. The boy was fine, and his deep voice vibrated in my eardrums as he introduced himself.

  “Yo, what up ma, my name is Tony,”. He said.

    Child he could have said this is a stick up, and I need all your money in that New York accent, and I would have happily obliged.

    “I’m from Harlem boo,”. He said. “What’s your name,”?

“uhhhhhh ummmmm… My my..,”.I stuttered praying that this heavenly creature that  Jesus himself had personally bestowed upon me wasn’t looking at me like a complete and utter fool.

  Brucey got the hint and quickly came to my rescue. “Tony (Harlwm) this is my cousin Eartha,”. He said.“ She’s from Youngstown,”.

He smiled, and I swear doves flew from the sky, a baby was born, and world peace was discovered. This man was fine, and I don’t know what came over me, but I was determined to get him by any means necessary.

  I finally got the nerve to talk to him, and we talked until the wee hours of the morning. I was sincerely interested in his wild stories of the life of Harlem, and he seemed to be amused at the lifestyle of us country folk in Youngstown.

  He smiled, and I smiled. We both were feeling the chemistry between each other, and I thank God because I had negotiated with him all night for this opportunity.

  It was the last night in the city, and my cousins, Harlem and I decided to go out. He was the only one with a car, and I was happy for that.

  We were cruising the city headed nowhere fast in his jet-black Cadillac. His chiseled tires were decorated in shiny chrome rims, and the inside of the car was as clean as a whistle.

  “Damn this dude was superb, and we had to stay in touch,” I thought.

  “Where are we going,”! I yelled trying to be heard over the base of Kanye West’s ,can’t tell me nothing,.

  Everyone else continued to text, talk, bobbed their head, and ignore me, except Harlem.

  He turned down the music , smiled, looked back at me, and said “Where would you like to go ma,”?

“Somewhere fun,”. I replied in the most seductive voice an 18-year-old could muster.

  Five minutes later we ended up at a bowling alley. I was a tad bit disappointed. I could bowl in Youngstown, but I was in Atlanta. I expected something less traditional, but I soon found out this was not your average bowling alley.

People were bowling. Some people were dancing. Eight flat screen T.V. hung from the ceiling each playing a different video. Brucey and Harlem walked in like celebrities while I caustiously tiptoed in like a mouse surrounded by traps ready to snap at any moment.

“Whats wtong,”? Harlem asked.

“Nothing, I’m just taking it all in,”. I said.

  I sat and ate my barbeque wings and fries when all of a sudden a saw a huge crowd. I don’t know what made me get up, but I barged my way through the crowd like Moses parting the Red Sea.

  I couldn’t believe my eyes. Brucey and Harlem were in a dance-off. I mean a real dance-off. I’d seen these on movies like Honey, but to be apart of an actual one in reality was brand new.

  No offense to Brucey because I’m sure he wowed the crowd with this moves, but I was more focused on what Harlem had to offer. I watched him with as much vigorous intent as a gazelle searching for its prey.

  He moved like a professional. He was magnificent, and his arms and legs were in perfect alignment with every beat of every song. Our eyes met while he was on the dance floor.

He smiled. I smiled. We were official. Whether he knew it or not he was mine.

  I don’t remember what time we all got back to the hotel, but I do remember Harlem and I sitting on his car looking at the  stars.

“You know you fine right,”. He said. I don’t know why I looked around like someone else was around, but I did.

“I sheepishly replied “Thank you,”.

In his stereotypical New York accent he quickly followed up with a “ Yo, I think you  mad cool,”.

“ I didn’t say much I was just glad to finally be alone with him without my family around. I ceased the moment, and went in for the kill.

 His lips were soft. I could tell he was enjoying himself because he started to grab the sides of my face. I would have allowed him to do much more, but he was a gentleman. We exchanged numbers, and he politely escorted me back to my room.

  I was only 18, but I believed I had kissed enough frogs, and now I’d found my prince. I was Harlem’s Princess.