IN THE END/Torres 1

IN THE END

By

Courtney Lea Torres

IN THE END/Torres 2

Chapter One

She was pretty. At least, that’s what everyone told

her. She had a broad flat nose and full lips, features she

had always considered burdens not assets. The lips and

nose coupled with light caramel eyes sat on a dark brown

canvas that was her skin. These, with the long hair that

hung in a mass of tight ringlets seemed to be appealing to

people she came across each day.

“What striking features you have.”

They would say as she passed them on the street or

stood in line at the super market.

“I have never seen a beauty quite like yours.”

IN THE END/Torres 3

Still, she felt cursed by the strong features of her

ancestors and could not quite shake the memory of how her

playmates from her youth described her face. She

remembered how ugly they made her feel, especially when

they used those words. The boys did not think much of her

facial appearance, they thought she was strange looking and

tacky and had no qualms about telling her so. And even

though those same boys were now awestruck by her remarkable

allurement, she believed them more when they told her she

was ugly then she does now when they tell her she is

beautiful.

There was one; however, who had the ability to make

her believe every word that left his lips. Every thing

that he said was covered in honey and backed by gold.

“Little miss, today you have stolen my heart for the

first time all over again.”

Gerald said as she walked up to the door of his car

which he held open for her. As she slid in he shut the

door after her, walked around the back of his classic blue

Dodge Charger and sat in the driver’s seat. He looked at

her and with a sigh and the shake of his head he said,

“Wow, all of that for me? To what do I owe the

pleasure? I tell you, Kelsey Lee Battle, you truly get

IN THE END/Torres 4

prettier every day. I guess I have a lot to look forward

to in fifty years.”

She smiled and then leaned over to gently kiss his

cheek.

“You’re so full of it.”

She believed his sincerity but had a hard time taking

a compliment.

Gerald did not grow up with Kelsey, he came there for

his college years after his older sister had relocated to

San Francisco from the southern town that Gerald so

lovingly renamed “Mayberry.” That’s part of the reason

Kelsey accepted his kind words: he was not around when she

was younger to watch her grow through her awkward stages

and so he looked at a finished product without having to

endure the painful process by which it came. Kelsey also

valued Gerald’s words because of the way they carried from

his mouth to her ear to her heart; passed on with the lull

of a southern inflection and powdered with wit.

“So what’s your plan for today?”

Gerald asks as they drive through the gates of Castman

College. He quickly stalks the parking lot and slides into

an available space.

“Well, I have a test in Political Science, a council

meeting and track practice. How about you?”

IN THE END/Torres 5

“I want to meet with my Marine Biology professor about

my last grade and I have labs all day after that.”

“So what time?”

“I’ll meet you in the cafeteria after my lab, maybe

around seven?”

“Yeah, I should be finished by then.”

This was a ritual for the two. Gerald would pick her

up from the apartment that she shared with a group of her

friends and the two of them would ride to school together.

They would discuss the specifics of their day and then

depart with a kiss and a good bye.

“I love you.”

She said while looking over her shoulder and running

towards the nearby building.

“Hold that thought.”

Gerald replied as he ran in the opposite direction.

IN THE END/Torres 6

Chapter Two

To Kelsey, Gerald was the epitome of manhood. Even so

early in life she had come across men who had no good

intentions, except to pillage all that she had to offer.

And then there were others who met her and courted her with

the best of intentions, with the desire to love her but

ended up desperately failing in their attempts for one

reason or another. But Gerald, he was far different than

the hundreds of loveless men who had crossed her path. He

was a friend, a category into which he reluctantly fell

when he and Kelsey were first introduced because Kelsey had

been preoccupied with someone who later proved undeserving

of her attention. The stigma of friendship and the fact

IN THE END/Torres 7

that Gerald still lived far from her (he was a student in

Washington, DC) caused their imminent relationship to pause

for a time. They were separated by a continent that, in

their minds, was being held down by the two of them –

magnetic weights on each end. So when Gerald transferred

to Castman College where she was a student; Kelsey was

pulled to him, and soon the two were inseparable.

The greatness of this match was uncanny. It

seemed as if all that Kelsey had ever wanted or dreamed of,

he wanted and dreamed of too . . . or he was himself these

things. He was; after all, a gentleman, a scholar and a

joker with plenty of ambition, and plenty of preparation

and fuel to get him anywhere he wanted to go.

Gerald spoke in a calm, sweet voice that was

comforting to Kelsey. He would speak and she would, in a

trance, ride on his words as if they were a slowly passing

swing, a swing that moved effortlessly – lightly carried by

the wind. Back and forth this swing would go and with each

passing, Kelsey found herself helplessly reposed, the words

were almost unimportant because the instrument was so

sweet; still, the words were just as winsome as the vessel

that carried them. Sweet Gerald. There was something

fantastic about a man being tender and intelligent and

successful and attentive and strong. Unreal because she

IN THE END/Torres 8

thought that “he” is only conjured up by her storage bin of

bad experiences – the “counterman”, the opposite of what

life truly offers. Gerald was that man. All the things that

she wished her men were, Gerald was – and all the dire

attributes that she wished her men did not possess, were

traits foreign to Gerald’s nature. All the qualities that

Kelsey threw into the fictional brewing pot and chanted

over, danced around and held up to God to bless, Gerald was

these things. And all that was good about him, had the

nerve to be packaged inside an impressive carapace of

manliness. He was both tall and rugged – his head which sat

on top of a godly physique – the peak, where his mouth

opened and shined majestically and warmed hearts, well, it

too was beyond compare. And although his smile alone was

enough to make any woman love him, he had so much more to

offer; he was so much more than that. This is why Kelsey

let him make a home in her heart. She loved him. Hopelessly.
IN THE END/Torres 9

Chapter Three

The two met one day after church service. Gerald,

visiting from his Southern town, stood next to his sister,

towering over her six foot frame. His eyes followed

Kelsey’s every move –- each hand shake, every kiss that she

passed out –- he was there with his eyes, watching with

envy, wishing those hands and lips that were touching hers,

could be his. The necessary cordials required of a visitor

interrupted his study of this new creature he had quickly

grown to love. While his sister gave him introductions, he

gave empty smiles.

“Nice to meets you.”

He would say to whoever was standing in his presence;

although, his concentration was on the movements of this

IN THE END/Torres 10

new love of his. It took one minute of perpetuity before

Kelsey was able to greet Angela’s brother and deliver the

ritualistic hug (with the back pat) and kiss (right outside

of the lips) to them both.

“This is my brother, Gerald.”

Angela turning to him,

“Gerald, you remember Kelsey, you have spoken before.”

They were both forced to remember their pre-

adolescence when the hopeful Angela would put them on the

phone to talk to one another. She always thought that the

two of them were chiasmic and showed no shame in playing

cupid where they were involved. But as they got older the

communication ended and the knowledge of the other was

limited to the unlimited bragging that Angela would do for

both.

Kelsey and Gerald shared the required polite exchanges

and with stolen action, she gripped his arm. A compliment

to his physique. She walked away in the same nonchalant

manner in which she had approached, while the inside of her

crumbled in the effort to repress the words that wanted to

escape from love’s limbo, she wanted to yell out,

“He’s the one!”

IN THE END/Torres 11

But she didn’t. Façade still intact, she simply smiled

and waited until the Sunday fellowship was over, so she

could begin to make him hers.

Kelsey did not have to do much to capture Gerald.

When she returned home from church she was greeted by a

message waiting on the service. It was him; he left it

while he was watching her at the church:

“Hello Kelsey. It was nice seeing you today; in fact,

I am watching you right now. I think Deacon Simpson is

enjoying your hugs a little too much. I don’t blame him

though; you are looking good enough to eat right about now.

And I see you looking over here, get over here already!”

He laughed.

“Anyway, I want to see you tonight. Is it a date?

This is Gerald … by the way.”

She called him back and they talked awhile about the

basic things; school, other girls, other boys and their

instant attraction to one another. They also tarried over

the fact that Gerald would be leaving to go back home in a

couple of weeks, it seemed so unfair that what felt like

love would have to be bridled by distance. Still, they

promised to make the most of each moment they would have

together. After three hours they decided to get off the

phone and meet up for dinner. And so they did.

IN THE END/Torres 12

That evening, after dining on Porterhouse steaks and

dinner salads, a meal to which no local boy had been able

to treat Kelsey, the two decided to go somewhere quiet and

serene in order to enjoy the full experience of their God-

sent attunement.

“Can I show you my favorite place?”

Kelsey asks.

“Yeah. What makes it your favorite place?”

“The fact that I am always there alone.”

“Will it still be your favorite place if you are there with

me?”

“Of course, now it will be my favorite place for a

different reason, now I will love it because it will remind

me of you.”

Kelsey led Gerald down the center of town and through the

populated areas to a wooded grassy knoll that stood

strangely isolated from all the other parts of the city.

They walked to the top of the hill where the sky seemed to

meet them. It was vast and dark; it was fully illuminated

by what seemed like billions of constellations. If it had

had not been for the company they were keeping, Kelsey and

Gerald might have been lost in the magnificence of the

night. But because they were each so enamored with the

other, there was nothing that could take their focus away
IN THE END/Torres 13

from the love that was budding between them. They lay side-

by-side and hand-in-hand on the top of that lush mound and

reveled in the warmth of love. It is true indeed, they were

newly acquainted but neither of them felt that way. Kelsey

and Gerald melted into each other’s arms; they were like

two pieces of a two-piece puzzle, snuggly interjoined by

design. They laughed about old personal jokes – that were

new, they reminisced on their love which had just begun.

Although they were barely united, they had become

inseparable – they were one, this was it, for both of them.
IN THE END/Torres 14

Chapter Four

The energy of the street below called to her. It made

her want to leave the comfort of the down swathe that laced

her small frame and join the mania with the masses she

heard frolicking outside of her window. She wanted to have

loud discussions of her own while strolling down the

cobbled corridors of Baltimore. But she remained,

seemingly immobile, lulled by the same commotion that

stirred her, taking it all in – all the life that was

happening inside of her and right outside of her window.

There was some movement in the old English townhouse

where she rested. She could hear talking; it was faint and

much less buoyant than that coming from the voices on the
IN THE END/Torres 15

street. It seemed to lack relevance, as least compared to

the exchanges she heard outside – despite the fact that

what she heard below was more of a mumbling – words drowned

by the noise and the distance that carried it. Still, what

was outside seemed more important, probably because it was

always followed by laughter, loud and uninhibited. Inside

the townhouse the voices got louder and the murmurs became

words. An invitation to breakfast.

There was moment of delay. Kelsey almost did not want

to leave this place, the safe house of solitude she had

forged in this small room. Although her isolation had been

broken by words, it remained a hollowed place. She rose,

first her head, then her body slung upright. She took her

feet that dangled from the side of the mattress and slipped

them into the slippers that were near the end of the bed.

They did not fit her feet, considerable larger than her

own. They were worn brown leather and they left room near

her heals – yet they were cozy to her. The slippers with

her in them shuffled across the hardwood floor sounding

like sandpaper might against the same surface. They

stopped by the restroom door where she left them and

stepped into the shower. Now this, in regard to

inviolability, was the single most spiritual place to

Kelsey. She thought of her showers as a daily retreat. It

IN THE END/Torres 16

was here that she could was away the day before, everything

that was old or ugly or bad or mediocre – washed away,

leaving room for each new day she was allowed. And in the

place of those things washed away, she would attempt to add

betterment and greatness. A ritual she performed each day

– rebirth.

A smile came over her face as she recalled the

night that proceeded this remarkable day. Just a few hours

before, Kelsey maintained all the elegance of royalty

crowned with beauty and grace. The most priceless memory of

the evening was the look on his face when she walked down

the stairs. He was already smiling. But the sight of caused

his wide grin to become an awkward expression, a smirk,

almost as if he had to close his mouth in order to keep it

from proclaiming the unmatched beauty of his mate. His

eyes… they tightened, they smiled for him, since his mouth

was being held hostage by different facial casts. He

reached out his hands, to assist her down the last two

stairs; it was then that the full impression of her

allurement was met by the rest of the room. Kelsey stood

there in her form fitting peach dress – tailor-made, of

course, so the splendor of her every curve was revealed but

not exploited because of the modest style. It announced the

boundless measure of class that she possessed. The silk

IN THE END/Torres 17

throwback draped her bare shoulders and fell lightly onto

her forearms. And there, where the fabric met the skin, is

where Gerald gently gripped her arm as they left the

building to share her beauty with the rest of the world.

Kelsey strolled through the crowds of people who

came to see her at Gerald’s function. A holiday that was

the first she would attend on his arm. Of course, the

others really did not come to see her but that is how she

felt because of how they looked at her. She was truly

breathtaking and she frolicked in that, she was fully aware

of all the eyes that followed her. Accordingly, she tried

to make it all worthwhile for those who could not focus

their attention elsewhere. She laughed at just the right

moments and smiled and spoke – all in perfect timing to add

to the physical appearance of flawlessness.

Out of one door and into another. The hostess met

them and led them to the finest table in the house, which

happened to be the only table in the house. The romantic

soul that Gerald possessed led him to arrange for a private

sitting in an elegant restaurant. Every detail met the

commands of a five star eatery including servers and cooks,

champagne to toast, wine for dinner, impressive desserts

and light music to seal the mood of romance.

IN THE END/Torres 18

“How much he must love me.” She thought. His

thoughtfulness seized her. Surrounded her. It would not let

her go. She was his captive.

They did not speak much. Kelsey’s heart was

teeming with pleasure, she thought her speaking would let

it jump out her mouth and the feeling would be gone. Their

communication was in their touching. She raised her hand to

his face and rolled the tips of her fingers from his temple

to his chin, to his lips where they turned over and them

the back of her hand very lightly revisited the sights just

seen . . . and that meant to him that she cherished him,

his presence, his love, his person. He was right.

At that moment his forefinger and thumb lightly

squeezed the nape of her neck. The span of his hand

caressed her throat the squeezed, very lightly, her

shoulder furthest from him. He warmed her back by slowly

gliding over it again and again. She knew he meant that he

loved her deeply and wanted to comfort her for a lifetime.

She was right. And then a kiss. They both understood that

moment was a promise and affirmation of love, and the kiss

an unspoken agreement that they were only complete in the

presence of the other.

IN THE END/Torres 19