Season 2, Episode 7 – Sentence

When Pamela rejected his presence, his desperate need to offer her comfort, he took off on a wild sunset gallop on Southfork lands. His first stop was J.R.'s grave, where he spoke out loud to the tombstone, as if the old man were standing right there.

"Guess what old man? I'm just a chip off the old block. You taught me how to do it, and I'm doing it better than you. I've brought a good woman low, and dragged her through the mud. Every hack knows her shame, and every sinner can throw it up in her face. I've done nothing to protect her, nothing to keep her safe, and nothing to honor her goodness. Just like you, Daddy. Just like you. I found myself a beauty queen, ensnared her in a web of false pretences, and put her in the cage of my vanity and passion."

He clapped his hands now and laughed out loud. "Woooh, I'm batting a thousand, Daddy! And no smooth talking and poetry is going to square me with the Man upstairs. I'm still going to have to pay for what I've done. Which I'm sure you've found out to be true by now too, Daddy."

"I'm walking in your boots, old man. And they're full of regret. Is that what hell is like?"

After he had abused his father's memory aplenty, John Ross rode out to the cattle herd and ran with the ranch hands for a couple hours.

Riding on the range, he sized up quite soberly what his life had come down to. He had expected it for a long time, so he should have been prepared for his sentence to be handed out.

By the time he turned his mount around and rode for the stables it was past a civilized hour for a father to be coming home. He tiptoed in the house and went up to the guest bedroom he used to sleep in when Pamela didn't want him around.

He couldn't resist crawling out the window and going to look thru the skylight, to see if all was well with Pamela. She was sitting on the bed cross legged, nursing one of the boys, her eyes shut, her head leaning against the headboard. She looked exhausted. He got a punch in the stomach when Christopher approached the bed with Ross Junior and put him down to change his diaper. He put him in the crib, then brought a tray and put a sandwich to Pamela's mouth. He coaxed her to take a bite but it was obvious she hardly had enough energy to chew her food. Christopher sat there, with the utmost patience, alternating between a sip of water and a bite of sandwich until she was done. Next, he took the child from her and changed him also. Then he returned to tuck Pamela in. All the longing of John Ross' his heart was to be in that bed that night, holding that woman. But she didn't need him. She must not want him.

When Pam was awakened by her twin alarm clocks that morning she was groggy and disoriented. John Ross was already showered and dressed and entered the room to help with the boys. This time John Robert got to nurse first, without a change, because once awake he was impatient. He took Ross Jr. in the bathroom and shut the door. He whispered to him, and they had their usual conversation while he got him ready. By and by he started to show signs of distress and he walked him back and forth. "That's alright boy, she's gonna feed you. You're so good. You're so patient. Yes, you are."

When he took him in and switched him for his brother he asked, "You okay?"

Pamela looked up at him and he saw none of the love he usually saw in her eyes for him. "Yes," she said.

He leaned up against the inside of the bathroom door and kissed John Robert just to keep himself from actually sobbing.

He gave a bright and peppy John Robert to Ann in the kitchen and grabbed a cup of coffee.

"Is Pamela up and ready?" Afton asked.

"Ah, she's nursing the other one." He answered. "She hasn't had a chance to get in the shower yet."

"What? We have to be there in under an hour." She got up and headed for her daughter.

"Pammie, that's enough of that. Look at you. You've got to look your best today. What are you going to wear?"

"Don't know," Pam shrugged.

Afton went into the closet and rummaged. She came out with a cream colored suit and a lacey blouse, criss-cross strap sandals. "This outfit screams damsel in distress with a little bit of supermodel thrown in," she said. "Now jump in the shower, quick. Give me the child, I'll give him to his father."

Afton made sure that Pamela looked perfect. She did her make-up and hair with the efficiency of a make up artist. She didn't even consider feeding her breakfast, though. Pamela was as disembodied and aloof as a china doll.

In court that morning judge Vickers said. "Counsel, is there any more evidence you want to present?"

"Your honor, the defense rests."

The closing statements were presented, with all the vehemence and logic each side could muster. The eyes of the jury were riveted on the tragic, dignified figure of the victim. So distant, ethereal, as if her soul had flown to a better place. They would have preferred to hear from her own lips any word that could have given them a clue as to her state of mind.

They must have decided, each in their own soul, to take up the sword in her defense, because the jury awarded a swift guilty verdict. They were not rewarded with a single smile from the victim. She only collapsed back into her seat and had to be carried out of the courtroom.

"Darling," John Ross whispered.

"Water," she said.

"Here," Suelen put a bottle to her mouth.

As they reached the hallway it was mobbed. Bobby was shooing away the spectators. "Give them some room."

When they got into the small holding room John Ross didn't put her down on a hard chair but sat with her cradled in his arms. "I'm hungry," Pam frowned.

"Here, darling, have a mint." Suelen pulled it out of her purse. "That'll give you some sugar. Christopher run and see if you can get her a candy bar or something out of a machine."

"Sorry I forgot to feed you this morning." John Ross whispered.

She had her hand on his chest and her head on his shoulder, but she did not look up.

"Really, Pammie, sometimes I think you have one of those eating disorder thingies, the way you forget to eat," Afton said.

"Put me down," Pamela said, getting up. She stood up straight now, "If you must know, mother, I was severely bulimic in college. Not that you would have ever noticed." After she smoothed her clothes she walked out of the room, a queen leading an entourage. The effect was spoiled when Christopher handed her a candy bar and she tore its wrapping off and practically stuffed it in her mouth.

On the courthouse steps, Pam approached the podium where the prosecutor was addressing the press on his success. A hush went over the crowd as he gave the spotlight to her.

"I'd like to say, to any woman out there, who has suffered sexual or any other kind of attack, that it is not your fault, and that if you can, fight to get the son of a bitch put away. It won't be easy, you might get hurt, but it's worth it. We've gotta turn the tide, and get the trash out."

In the car, Suelen hugged her, "Well said, darling."

John Ross was thinking, "Hang on little darling, it won't be long till all the trash is cleared out of your life."

Pamela slept a lot afterwards, and ate the food at Southfork, and played with the babies. But for John Ross she had few words. He took it as a confirmation that she was finally drifting away from him. She was realizing the mistake she'd made in taking him back. The time was approaching for him to set her free. Of course, by setting her free, his own sentence would be sealed.

"What do you want to do darling?" he asked her, during a peaceful moment with the boys.

"Get us to St. Kitts, that's where Pamela feels safe."

Though John Ross found that odd, her reference to herself in the third person, he fully understood her meaning. "Alright."

It was a short two weeks later, after Dr. Macnamara had been sentenced that they left.

At the sentencing, the judge said:

"There are several factors that have gone into our sentence of this defendant. They are as follows:

1 We have considered that the sexual assault of Mrs. Pamela Barnes Ewing was aggravated sexual assault due to the fact that the victim was under the influence, not of a sex drug, but of a psychological restraint that made her mentally incapacitated to give or refuse consent.

2. The perpetrator had a supervisory capacity and a power over the victim, which he used to assault and rape her instead of to heal. He abused his professional oath to do no harm and chose to inflict grievous harm.

3. The perpetrator has not demonstrated any remorse for his actions, but rather, an arrogance that chills the soul.

Therefore, I am awarding him the maximum sentence under Texas law of fifteen years in prison."

Though John Ross had visited a lawyer and conducted a number of items of business thru him, he gave no signs at Ewing Global that he was preparing to take off. On the morning they left for the airport, he used a small back road coming out of Southfork, in an unmarked car. The car they arrived in the night before stayed on the grounds.

The arrival in St. Kitts, the visit to Mama Joy's on the way from the airport, seemed to almost immediately bring back the Pamela John Ross knew.

"Oh my God, oh my God!" Pamela jumped out of the car and ran to hug Mama Joy, who was coming down the steps.

"Whaaat?" Mama Joy hugged her to herself like she was one of her own. "You're back. Let me see them. Bring them out here. First, let me get my arms around this man."

She hugged John Ross with equal affection, and when introduced she took hold of the boys, one in each arm. She walked around the restaurant, showing them to the staff. The babies were fully engaged and willing to smile at anyone who smiled or spoke to them.

John Ross' heart melted with the food, the company, but mostly, at the site of his wife's smiles. Pamela would be happy here.

Mama Joy noticed John Ross was somewhat subdued. "And have you been doing your work?" Mama Joy said to him on the side.

He looked at her and then away. "Some people don't deserve redemption."

"Not if they don't ask for it," she said, matter of fact.

He didn't answer her, just took a long look at his wife, engaged at the big table in the corner.

"John Ross, dear. Listen to me. We must not dwell on our deficiencies, or they will completely consume us. Do you get what I'm saying?"

"I'll think on it."

"Well, I won't burden you with any more words you can't hear," she said. "A cup has to be empty before it can be filled. Come and meet my baby girl. She's back from Granada. Here she comes up the steps right now."

Pamela had to do a double take when she was introduced to Regine. "Wow."

She should have known the female version of Godwin would have been quite riveting. But Regine was awe-inspiring. Long (very long) curly black hair with bold redish highlights framed a milk chocolate complexion without a single blemish. Her black jeans and crisp white polo shirt, a uniform for some establishment, instead of detracting, perfectly framed her stature and beauty.

"Hello, Miss St. Kitts and Nevis," Pamela said, extending her hand.

"Oh my goodness, what these people been telling you. Hello, it's my pleasure to meet you." She also shook John Ross' hand.

"Are you serious?" Pamela laughed. "Did I hit the nail on the head?"

"Yes, Miss 2010, my dear. Enough money to put me thru two years of medical school."

"Really, you're in Medical School? Wow again."

Regine's eyes flickered with a shade of something. "Yes well, tell me about yourselves," she said.

Pamela hesitated. But John Ross didn't. "We're the proud parents of these two young men." John Ross had retrieved John Robert from another family member.

"Oh, that's a handful of healthy right there." She picked up his feet. "Three months? Any teeth coming yet?

"Not quite yet." Pamela said.

"Oh. You have a lot to look forward to."

They laughed. "Are you going into pediatrics, by any chance?"

"Most likely, yes," She said. "Right now I'm just looking to earn some money," she said, "so I can go back for my third year."

Later, after consulting Pamela, John Ross approached Regine, asking, "Any chance you'd want a job with us, helping with the boys? We…have some appointments and need childcare."

"Well, let me see. I'm a night desk clerk at the Marriot. If it's during the day, I'd be delighted."

"Well, if you tell me what you make there, I'll triple it. That way you can work for us exclusively." He looked out at the sea, "I might have to travel a bit. With you there I'll know that Pamela's not alone."

"Well, that works for me, she said. Okay. When do you need me?"

"Tomorrow," he said, soberly.

Regine was a highly intuitive person. She sensed a heavy burden was weighing on him. Of course, with the slight acquaintance they had, it was not up to her to inquire why.

John Ross, though, was actually relieved by their exchange. She was the daughter of a family he trusted implicitly, her qualifications were impeccable. He couldn't have done better if he'd gone to an agency. The fates were cooperating with his plans.

John Ross looked out at the horizon now, the sea and the places around him, then at the people surrounding him. He absolutely loved this place. He would stay here forever if he could. But it was part of his sentence to leave it and never set foot on it again.

By the time Regine arrived at flamingo house the next day Pamela was in a high good mood. She was relieved to have a hand with the boys when John Ross said he had to go out for a bit. She wanted to put things away, organize the house, and cook her own dinner. Regine was self sufficient with the boys, as long as they weren't hungry.

John Ross had called Gina for an appointment, mostly because he wanted to talk about Pamela. But she kept insisting on talking about him.

"How, does that make you feel, this greater "independence" you perceive in Pamela?"

"Oh, I'm happy for her. I always expected it."

"Aren't you lying to me? And to yourself."

"Well, what do you want me to say, that I feel desperate? Like an invisible worm? It would be a sorry thing indeed if I started to feel sorry for myself."

"It's not feeling sorry for yourself to acknowledge your fear."

"To tell you the truth I don't want to open up that door right now. Maybe later." When I'm gone, he said, to himself.

"John Ross, from all you've told me of the birth, and everything you and Pamela have been through, it would be totally normal for you to be…affected. I mean…it wouldn't be normal if you weren't. The depression, the anxiety, the absolute sense of fatigue, these are all classic symptoms of PTSD."

"Meaning?"

"Post traumatic stress syndrome."

"Oh, so now I'm a danger to myself and others too."

"Not necessarily, this isn't just suffered by combat veterans, it comes in many forms."

"But the bottom line is I'm falling apart. Thanks. I think I already knew that."

"Well, I can give you a prescription for the anxiety. And we can work on this. You're not alone."

"Well, I didn't come here for that. I just wanted to know how you felt Pamela is doing. Is she…coping."

"Well, off the cuff, and I might be proven wrong later, but what I saw on that stand, after she…was made to recall the grueling details of the rape, was a strong persona, a woman who was coping with things, in a direct, straightforward way. In fact, it was amazing, almost too good to be true."

"Maybe knowing what was coming, I mean, being aware of it ahead of time, made remembering it less…bad." For him, it hadn't been any less bad. In fact, it had been the nail on the coffin. To hear her tell it again. To know of his own utter failure to protect, and his culpability in the events, was a searing wound. A weeping, gaping, inconsolable wound.

"Well, memory integration is never easy. The mind will do anything to resist feeling the feelings that are associated with the memories. Both consciously and unconsciously."