John Ross and Pamela - Season 2 Episode 11 – New Beginings

Christopher was not successful in finding John Ross in Ft. Lauderdale. He called Pamela to let her know.

"I'm sorry Pamela. I waited for every person to disembark from that cruise ship. I staked it out for hours, binoculars in hand. He must of gotten off the ship in San Juan and taken off from there. How are you feeling?"

"I'm holding my own. It's nice to have Regine here. She helps a lot. Tomorrow I have a session with Gina."

"Listen, I'll keep looking. I promise. Okay? Just hang in there."

"Thanks Christopher."

Pamela was at Gina's office early.

"How do we do this?" she asked Gina. "How do we fix multiple personalities?"

"I don't exactly know. Maybe you and I can figure it out together. Are you motivated?"

"Yes. My babies deserve a mother. I'll do anything I have to for them."

"Well, think about yourself also as a small child in need of rescue, in need of a mother who would do anything to take care of her. You, Pamela, can be that mother that she needs, if you're courageous, not afraid to face things."

"Okay."

"So, the first personality is Pam. Pam is angry. She's very pissed at anyone who does Pamela wrong. But she's also angry at Pamela herself."

"How do I meet her?"

"You have to let yourself feel some of that anger. Maybe then she will come out into the open.

Pamela sat for a while and then said. "I feel angry at my father for killing my babies. I feel very angry at him."

"You seem very civilized about it." Gina observed.

"Fuck the fucker. May he rot in hell." Pam said. "And fuck you Pamela for being so ladylike about you anger. The reason you can do that is because you didn't want those babies anyway."

Gasp. "How can you say such a thing? That is monstrous! I loved those babies more than my life. I changed myself because of them."

"Then tell me one thing. How come you've never screamed, never yelled at your fucking father for what he did? How come you didn't tear his eyes out?" Pam yelled.

"I did something better. I helped put him in jail, for the rest of his life."

"You're a cold, cold bitch, Pamela. You've got no human warmth. How about with John Ross. What's your excuse for being so fucking soft on him?"

"I love him. And he's suffered—"

"Suffered my ass. He's a selfish, chauvinist pig. A womanizing—"

Pamela put up her hand. "I…I can't think of him that way. It hurts me too much." Pamela started to cry.

"Oh shut up. Shut up you sniveling cow."

"NOOO! You shut up! I can forgive whoever I want to forgive. I can love whoever I want to love!"

"Ooo la la. Look at Pamela get angry. How scary. You ain't nothing but a hound dog, crying all the time. Ha ha ha ha."

"At least I can keep a man around. You scared everyone away with your bitchiness. Your gutter mouth."

"Well, if he left, it's because he can't handle a real woman."

"He can't handle a real mean woman, you mean."

"There's nothing wrong with being mean to survive, that's what you and Pammie need to understand." Pam spoke so low now it was as if she were counseling a younger sister. "I can't hang around forever, waiting to see if you can protect those cubs of yours. Are you going to step up to the plate?"

Gina took the chance of interrupting, "Excuse me Pamela, but she's got a point. Anger is a good thing if it helps you stay alive, if it helps you fight back."

"It feels ugly, and un…uncomfortable. I…get so tired when I feel it. I just want to go to sleep. I want to forget."

"See. She's a coward. COWARD! You can never defend them, you can never fight for them. You'll let them be blown up."

Now Pamela snarled, "Fuck you, Pam. They're mine and I will stand in the way of anyone who tries to harm them. But I will not hate John Ross, you hear me. I hate you for what you did, driving him away. He is a good father, and I need him to help me protect them from whatever is coming. So stay away from us! We don't want you and we don't need you. I can fight on my own. I got my eyes wide open."

"Oh yeah. Then why have you got Pammie hanging around if you're so tough?"

Gina interrupted now. "Excuse me. I think that's good enough for now. That you two have met. We'll talk to Pammie another day."

Pamela looked at Gina in a panic. "What am I going to do now? I don't want her here in my head. She's still here. She's a bitch."

"Pamela, this is where you have to be open. She's a part of you. The more you two can stay together the better it will be."

"I can't have her talking to me all the time. I can't live with this conflict inside of me."

"But darling, listen, what if I tell you it's for your own good. Try. Try to withstand her presence. Listen to what she has to say, weigh it. Maybe you'll see that she is right sometimes."

"I hate her."

"Perhaps. But realize that you're hating a part of yourself. And you can't disown that part, otherwise it will live as a dissociated personality. You're stronger if you're together."

Pamela left the office that day feeling like there was a collar and chain around her neck, weighing her down. She wanted to love, and Pam wanted her to separate herself from everyone. Pam wanted to be alone, disconnected. Pam didn't want to feel vulnerable in any way.

She only got some relief from the incessant dialogue in her head when she and Regine took the babies down to the beach that afternoon and played with them.

"Look at that, R.J. Do you see the fish? Let's chase the fish! Do you think they can see them?" she asked Regine.

"Potentially, yeah. Their reflexes are better than ours. It's just a matter of getting used to seeing things."

"Oh my goodness. That's so fascinating. I'll have to google that."

"I know. It's so cool. I think if I wasn't going for pediatrics I'd like to study neurobiology."

"Yeah? That's…brain development, right?

"Uh-hum."

"How old are you, Regine?"

"Twenty eight."

"How come you're still single? You must beat them off with a stick."

"Uhm. I think I'm too intense, too bossy for most of them."

"Bossy? Naw, you're sweet."

"Ha ha ha. That's the first time anyone has ever said that to me."

"Maybe we're two peas in a pod."

Pamela now lifted John Robert up like he was a champagne glass and they were making a toast, "Here's to assertive women."

"And to men who don't mind them." Regine now proposed her own toast.

"And to men who are men enough to love them," Pamela modified.

Regine lifted her own baby and they chinked them, like goblets. R.J. said, "Ha, ha."

"Did you hear that? He laughed!" Pamela exploded into laughter and they spent the rest of their time trying to recreate the event.

Days and days of this playing in the surf and visiting places on the island that Regine wanted to show her created an uplifting routine to her life. Thanks to Regine's indomitable energy, Pamela looked forward to her days.

That night, on her bed, Pamela sat with her tablet. The boys were down and Regine was out. She started thinking of John Ross. Past the anger, where Pam just wanted her to punch him for leaving them, she started to feel a little compassion for him. He was her baby. He was out there alone, he thought he was unloved, and he felt he deserved to be discarded.

She knew he would be watching over them, though. It was just in his nature. He needed to cross all the i's and dot all the t's. So she uploaded the pictures she had taken on the beach that day to the cloud drive she and John Ross had started when they were on the island the last time. They had been very careful not to grant access to anybody else, nor to leave any of the pictures on any physical electronic device. Everything got erased after being uploaded to that cloud drive. But even more important than that, they never uploaded anything with a reference point to the island. Nothing at all that could be traced back to St. Kitts. This meant no scenery shots, only close up pictures of people and indoors.

Pam took a chance tonight though, and uploaded the pictures of the boys in the water. The underwater ones were her favorites. She knew these would elicit strong emotions in their father. Maybe enough to keep him connected to them.

When Christopher got back to work at Ewing Global he had a nasty run-in with Nicholas Trevino in the men's room.

"Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in." Trevino said, as he stood elbow to elbow with him at the urinals. "I thought you were on vacation in the Riviera. Or was it Cancún? It certainly wasn't the Alternative Energy conference in Chicago, was it?" he sneered.

It did seem to Christopher, though, that he was merely fishing. The best way to throw somebody off was to play dumb. "You know, I don't know what you're referring to, but it sounds to me like you feel you have a right to keep track of my movements or something. What is that? Care to explain that to me?"

"Now you're being ridiculous, Christopher. Why would I have a need to know where you are at all times?"

For reasons he couldn't quite explain or justify, it was only three days later than the last time and Christopher went to buy a burner phone again, so that he could call down to the island. It seemed his curiosity was just too much. Or maybe it was the sound of a certain voice that was making him feel homesick.

"So, how are the boys?"

"Oh, they're great."

"And their mother?"

There was a slight pause. "She's doing well too."

"So things are boring."

"Not quite. But then, maybe we don't look for excitement in the same way all you big city boys do."

"Touché."

Pause.

Christopher had to qualify. "Well, to tell the truth my idea of excitement has changed. How are those swimming lessons going?"

There was a detailed description that ensued and provided food for many minutes and for much laughter and disbelief.

"So what do you do in your spare time?"

"I step out to my mom's place."

"That's it?"

"I'm hitting the books pretty regular too. Trying to keep current with my studies."

"When will you go back to finish?"

"Oh, in a year or two, when I scrape up enough money. I'd like to have enough for my last two years, so I don't have to interrupt."

"Wow, can't you borrow the money?"

"I'd rather not. It's not so easy, without collateral."

"How did you do your undergrad?"

"Oh, it's free here. You just have to pass an exam."

"Really? Undergrad is free?"

"Yeah, sure. What is it like where you're from?"

"Well, basically, it cost's as much as buying a house. Those who want to study can't afford it. And I guess those who can afford it, like me, aren't motivated."

"You seem plenty motivated."

"That's because I had a girlfriend I was trying to keep up with."

"Oh."

After a pause she risked it. "So what happened to her?"

"Nothing. She still works at our company."

"Oh."

"And she's having a baby with our…partner."

"What about you, Regine. What's your romantic history?"

"I have none."

"That…that can't be true."

"I don't usually lie."

"You haven't had a serious boyfriend," it was more of a statement.

"Not serious or unserious."

A hundred questions were in Christopher's mind. But the most salient was: was this girl untouched? Obviously, it was not a question he could bring up. But it created such an itchy curiosity he dreamed of making his way back to St. Kitts sooner rather than later. He also dreamed of lazy days on the beach and a chocolate face with luminous brown eyes.

In another place, hard toed hiking boots crunched thru the snow, finally making it into a place of some warmth, stomping off the snow and then taking a table in the bar. Along with the beer she provided, the big busted waitress flashed him a smile. The drinker pulled out a cell phone and started surfing the internet.

On the screen now could be seen warm Caribbean beach scenes. The viewer focused closely on the faces of the women and babies.

Another figure now sits down next to the first and lays a riffle on the table. A gruff voice says, "Heard you were looking for me."

The face is that of an ugly, bearded, extremely rustic looking man.