John Ross and Pamela, Season 1, Episode 9 – Redemption Work

John Ross turned over in the bed. "Where you going? It's seven in the morning," he said in a groggy voice.

Shirtless, he presented an enticing picture to an already dressed Pamela.

"I'm off to my cooking lesson," she answered.

"What about me?" he asked.

"You can come there when you get up."

"I have an appointment at ten with Gina." He said.

"By yourself?" she asked.

"Yeah, she's trying to straighten me out." He joked.

"Are you sure you're not talking about me? Because if you are I want to be there."

"No. This is just for me, and about me. We can talk about you in your sessions." He got up from the bed to pull her into his arms. "Where's my goodbye kiss?"

She kissed him and then said, "Mama Joy's waiting for me." She didn't pull out of his arms. Only her words expressed her hesitation to abandon herself to his touch. They had, by unspoken agreement, decided to leave their sexual life aside, but it was hard not to get carried away sometimes. John Ross was so downright…magnetic.

"Oh," he said. "Well go on then. I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too."

John Ross got back in bed and put his hands behind his head. Life had taken on sort of a rhythm, between cooking lessons and sessions with the psychiatrist. He had contacted a realtor and scouted some furnished houses for rent closer to the village center. It looked like they would be here for a while.

He felt good, like they were making some progress. Pamela was stable, even though she didn't have much memory yet. Gina had not tried to deconstruct the wall that Doc. M. had set up. She said she wanted to understand more about Pamela. And so they worked in the conscious realm, talking about things, instead of under hypnosis.

He couldn't think about that doc by his name. He thought of him as Doc Rapist and Doc Monster. Doc Psychopath. His name brought about an eruption of anger within John Ross. At everything that had happened, but mostly, at himself. In order to deal with that, his "redemption work" had become another part of the rhythm of life. He was sure to need some of Mama Joy's redemption work after today's session with Gina.

Gina went straight to the point. "Why do you like sleeping around so much?"

"Well, to tell you the truth, I don't really like it all that much."

"Why?"

"I…I don't admire these women. I think I despise them, actually. 'Cause they don't seem to be very moral."

"So you only sleep with immoral women? What does that make you?"

"Well I'm under no illusions about the fact that I'm a scoundrel, the most despicable of the creatures that slithers on the earth."

"So, it's not that you're looking down on these women?"

"No. I'm just saying, that if I thought they cared, or that I was hurting them, I wouldn't do it. I mean, I don't like hurting people."

"Ok. So what you're saying is that you don't get anything out of it."

"Yeah. I see it for what it is. Just sex. I have no illusions about it."

"So, can you live without it? Could you walk away?"

"In a heartbeat."

She seemed at a loss, but she was writing little notes in her book. He would have loved to know what they were.

"So, listen to what you're saying. You don't enjoy it. You don't like these particular women. Why do you think it's necessary for you to sleep around like you do?"

"Well, maybe they have something I need."

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe they have power over awarding a contract, or they have transportation resources I need, or I need a little dirt so I can leverage somebody."

"So, it's part of the way you do business."

"Yeah. It's just business."

"Do you think Pamela understood it like that?"

He took a long pull of air, "Well, I never intended for her to find out. But, the truth is, in my twisted way of thinking, because it meant nothing to me, I thought it meant nothing to her."

"But it didn't turn out like that."

"It was only after I saw how it hurt her that I understood the havoc I had wreaked." He had a lump in his throat. It was impossible to talk. The Doc let him work through the emotion.

"So expand on it a little. How does it work. This sex for business."

"Usually it goes along with some kind of blackmail. Either they're blackmailing me or I blackmail them."

"Interesting. Give me an example."

"So my cousin needed the city transit authority to agree to fuel all the city buses with methane. He gets all the work done, had it all sewn up except that at the last moment the woman who had the power to move the deal his way wanted a little something on the side. So I was sent in to "charm the pants off her," which usually means sexing them up."

"You say you were sent in. Who sent you in?"

"My uncle Bobby, I guess."

"And why didn't your cousin Christopher do that job?"

"Well, because Christopher's not that kind of guy, who does this sort of thing. He's too moral."

"So you were pimped out by your family to go get the company this contract."

John Ross was silent, reflecting on it. "Nobody makes me do these things."

"Then why do you do them?"

"Because the deal is important."

"To whom?"

"To the Company. To me."

"Making the deal is what's important to you."

"I thought it was."

"Is there something more important to you now?"

"She is."

"So, was there a price to living that way?"

He wiped his teary eyes. "I'm thinking now, that price was too high."

She handed him the box of tissues.

"Well maybe you could meditate on why you were willing to pay such a high price. Why do you measure yourself by "the making of the deal" as you put it. And we'll work on that next time."

He went straight for the restaurant. He looked at Pamela, breezy and beautiful in an apron. She was fully part of the hustle and buzz of the noon day business.

"Hi!" She kissed him on the way to delivering food to a waiting table.

He shouldn't have come. He didn't want to bring her down with his mood.

He turned to go and bumped into Mama. "John Ross. Aren't you going to have a plate of food?"

"Later, maybe."

"I see."

He just stood in front of her. Not wanting to look in her eyes. She saw too much.

"Dear, can you do a little job for me?"

"Sure," he shrugged.

"There's some rocks I need cleared, to make another garden bed. Just pile them up around the edges so I can make a garden bed in the middle. I want to put in some okra."

"Uh-hum. Will do."

He worked all afternoon, under the blazing hot sun. Literally digging and ripping rocks out of the soil. Dragging them to the edges of the hard field.

It was punishing work. But it wasn't punishing enough for him. He thought about his session that morning. It turns out John Ross Ewing was a whore. Nothing but a whore. He had so little self respect he would sell his soul, or his sexual favors, for a handful of coins. It didn't matter how many zeros there were to the deal, he was willing to whore his body out to make it happen. "Ha! John Ross, you're nothing but a two bit whore."

It was more difficult to accept that his family "pimped him out." He was loath to share his guilt with others, but a niggling sense of doubt crept in. Because he was JR's son had there always been a sort of expectation on him? That he would do anything to seal the deal? Hadn't it always been sort of understood that the son of the black sheep had certain responsibilities to continue the shenanigans, whenever the shenanigans were needed?

Although the family always pretended they were half good, half bad, weren't they all pretty much the same? Look at how Uncle Bobby had framed Cliff Barnes, how he had pushed John Ross to marry Pamela for her shares in Ewing Global. Those were not the actions of an angel.

There was no moral high ground in their family. There was only the family and the company. For all their talk about protecting the family, they were just protecting the company, the conglomerate that had started as Ewing Oil and had then gone through many evolutions. The members of the family were all pawns in a high stakes game of chess. While he had thought himself a major player in that game he was also being used.

They were all corrupt. They were probably the most dysfunctional family in Dallas.

"Hello, there."

John Ross looked up to see Godwin smiling at him and offering him a jug of water. "Mama sent me down with this."

"Thank you. What you smiling at, man."

"So she sent you to break rocks," he laughed. "The Devil must really be dogging you, man."

"Hey, what do you know about this "redemption work?"

"I've done it a couple of times myself. What you want to know?"

"How does it work?"

"It's a time to meditate on what ails ya, you know? While at the same time trying to forgive yourself by punishing your body."

"What if it doesn't work?"

"No chance, man. Then Mama just find you harder work to do. More disgusting. More humbling."

"I see."

He didn't. He was wrestling with demons that could not be conquered. Hatred. Self hatred. Anger. Loathing. Fear. Great fear, that she would leave him when this was all done.

"But listen, man. Lighten up. Have a little fun. We've got a beach party tomorrow, man. The cousins and all. You and Pamela come out. Play some beach ball."

"Oh, that sounds good. We'll be there." That family was like a magnet, he and Pamela were both enamored of them, like moths to a flame.

That's why he was trying to get them a house near here. He'd seen one with the realtor yesterday that was only a few blocks away. It was a nice bungalow painted flamingo pink, with a back yard and an ocean view. It wasn't huge or anything, but he liked the cozy feel of it and he was going to surprise Pamela with it next week, when it was all clean.

He laughed at himself and at Mama Joy's technique. So that's why he had progressed from earth turning to rock clearing. She should put him to mucking out shit from the latrines. He needed more humbling.

That beach party came to rank in John Ross and Pamela's mind as the number one best family time either one of them had ever experienced. There were at least thirty people there, between babies and uncles and cousins and aunts. It didn't just last a few hours. It started in the morning and went way into the night with music around a bonfire.

"What was your favorite part?" Pamela asked him on the drive back to the hotel.

"The volleyball. Hands down, the volleyball."

"You mean the killer, two on two, Olympic matches you big guys played."

"Yeah. Those guys rocked. I swear, I would be a professional beach volleyball player if I could."

"Ha!"

"But I liked the other games, too. The ones where you played. You seemed to be enjoying that."

"I did, I did. But the highlight for me—"

"Was playing with the babies. I know. I saw you."

"Omygod! They're such happy babies."

"Uh-hum." He didn't know what more to say. Did she remember her own babies? He couldn't touch that subject.

He couldn't say either, "We could have a baby." Who could have a baby without having sex? It would have to be an immaculate conception. More to the point, how could they have a baby with the sword they had hanging over their heads?

At the hotel Pamela took her time getting ready for bed.

Brushing her teeth, she looked at herself in the mirror. She loved it here. She wished they could stay here forever.

But most of all she wished her husband would make love to her. Right now. She was so hot for him. But she knew he wouldn't try it for fear she would have another panic attack. He thought it was his fault, and it hurt him.

Today, watching him play volleyball like a Trojan had lit a fire in her. John Ross was all physical, all energy. She could believe what he said about wanting to be a professional athlete, because he had the drive and the killer instinct. He had the moves.

And those moves just made her melt.

It had been such a great day. And she felt so good, so happy. She wished she could understand herself. What made her so fearful of intimacy when she loved her husband to distraction? She was thinking of his hands on her all the time.

Why not risk it? She felt nothing bad could happen right now.

She came out of the bathroom determined to take matters into her own hands. But when she reached the bed she saw John Ross was asleep.

"Baby?" she shook him gently.

He was out like a light.