EPISODE 235 - Survivors, Part 2

 

 

As another day dawns at Southfork, it has now been three days since John Ross, Alex, Justin, and Clay returned from New Mexico.  Alex is in the shower, simply standing under the shower head letting the water run over his body.  The shower and the sound of the running water seem to be the only peace Alex has been getting since he arrived home.  Sleep has not come easily for him, and when it has come, it has come filled with nightmares of his time in the woods with Shawn, and Shawn's fall from the cliff.  

 

After more than half an hour, Alex finally turns off the water.  He hesitates for a few seconds, then opens the shower curtain, grabs a towel from the towel wrack, and steps out of the shower.  He begins to dry himself with the towel just as someone starts pounding on the bathroom door.  

 

"ALEX, COME ON!"  Michael yells from the hallway outside.  "YOU'VE BEEN IN THERE FOR ALMOST FORTY MINUTES!"  He pounds on the door again.  

 

Alex ignores his cousin's pounding and yelling and continues to dry himself.  

 

Finally fed up with waiting, Michael tries the bathroom door, and opens it, walking in on a naked Alex.

 

"Hey, what the hell are you doing?"  Asks an angry Alex, quickly wrapping the towel around his waist.  "Get out!"

 

"Didn't you hear me knocking and yelling?"

 

"Look, just get lost, okay!"  Alex says.  "I'll be out in a few minutes."

 

"I don't have a few minutes.  You've been in there forever!"

 

"Get out of my face!"

 

"Hey, hey, hey, what's goin' on up here?"  Lucas asks, coming upstairs to see what all the commotion was about.  "I could hear you guys yelling all the way downstairs, now what's going on?"

 

"Dad, I need to take a shower, and he's been in the bathroom all morning.  For at least 40 minutes."

 

"Alex, are you almost done?"  Lucas asks.

 

"I would be if you two would give me some privacy to dry off and get dressed."

 

"Michael, go and use mine and your Mom's bathroom,"  Lucas says.

 

"But, Dad...."

 

"Michael, just go.  And hurry up, and then I'll drive you to camp."

 

The boys sighs in frustration, then walks away, going down the stairs.  

 

Lucas looks at his nephew.  "Just finish up, okay?"

 

"Thank you!"  Alex says with angry sarcasm as he slams the bathroom door in Lucas's face.  

 

Lucas shakes his head, then follows his son down the stairs, catching up to him as Michael is about to go into Lucas and Heather's bathroom.  "Michael, hold up,"  Lucas says.

 

"Dad, I'm in a hurry."

 

"I know, I know.  Michael, look, I know Alex is being a little difficult right now........"

 

"He's being a JERK, Dad,"  Michael says.

 

"Okay, so he's being a jerk.  But remember, he's been through a lot.  I think Alex is hurting a lot inside right now, and he's just lashing out at everyone.  Right now, we all need to be patient with him, and give him some time to deal with what happened to him.  Just try and give your cousin a little slack, okay?"

 

Michael nods.  "Yeah, okay, Dad.  I'll try and be patient."

 

Lucas smiles.  "Good.  Now go get your shower and I'll take you to camp."

 

"Okay,"  Michael says, going into Lucas and Heather's bedroom.

 

Lucas looks out the window of one of the French doors leading onto the upstairs balcony.  He lets out a deep breath as he thinks about Alex's recent behavior since he came home from New Mexico.  Lucas is worried about his nephew's current state of mind.  After a moment's pause, he decides to speak to John Ross.  He turns and walks down the hallway to John Ross and Krystina's bedroom.  He knocks on the door.  

 

"Come in,"  Krystina says.  

 

Lucas walks into the room.  "Morning, Krystina."

 

"Morning, Lucas."

 

"Where's John Ross, I need to talk to him?"

 

"He just got out of the shower,"  Krystina says as John Ross comes in from the bathroom.  

 

"Lucas," John Ross says.  "What do you want this early in the mornin'?"  

 

"John Ross, I need to talk to you about Alex."

 

"What about Alex?"

 

"Well, haven't you noticed since you guys came home that Alex seems......different?  Even a little angry a lot of the time?"

 

"Well, what the hell do you expect?" John Ross asks.  "The kid was kidnapped and nearly killed by someone who was once his closest friend, and then he had to watch that same ex-friend fall to his death from a cliff after Alex tried to save him.  Damn right he's actin' different, and he has every right to be angry."

 

"John Ross, I'm worried about him,"  Lucas says.  "Maybe it'd be a good idea if Alex saw a counselor."

 

"Lucas, I appreciate your concern, but Alex is gonna be just fine.  He doesn't need any counselor, all he needs is to get back to work and that'll be the best thing for him."

 

"I don't think work is gonna help Alex deal with everything that happened with Shawn Smith."

 

"Lucas, look, this is really none of your business, so just butt out, okay?"

 

"None of my business?"  Lucas asks.  "Alex is my nephew, John Ross, or have you forgotten that?"

 

"And he's MY son,"  John Ross says.  "Like I said, I appreciate your concern, but you let me worry about my son, okay?  You just take care of yours.  Now if you'll excuse me, I gotta get dressed."  John Ross turns and goes back into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

 

"Lucas, I'm really sorry about that,"  Krystina says.

 

"No, I'm the one who's sorry, Krystina.  Sorry for you......that you're married to such a jerk,"  Lucas says, then leaves the room.  

Justin and Pamela's apartment....

 Justin and Pamela are having breakfast that morning when the doorbell rings.  "I'll get it,"  Pamela says.

 

"No, no,"  says Justin.  "You stay and finish your breakfast.  I'll get the door."  He gets up from the table, walks into the living room and opens the door to Brad.  

 

"Justin," Brad says.  "My sister here?"

 

"Yes, we were just havin' breakfast."

 

"Good, I need to have a word with her,"  Brad says, walking into the apartment past Justin.

 

"Come in, why don't you?"  Justin says sarcastically.  

 

Pamela comes in from the kitchen.  "Brad, what are you doing here so early?"

 

"I just dropped by on my way to the office to see how my sister's doing,"  Brad replies.  "So how are you?"

 

"I'm fine,"  Pamela says.  "Better every day.  In fact, I think the best thing for me is to get back into the real world.  So, I've decided to start work in my new job at Westar tomorrow."

 

A look of surprise and disappointment comes over Brad's face.  "You.......you're going to start your job as CEO of Westar tomorrow?"

 

"Yes.  Justin helped me to realize that getting back to work is better than sitting around here going crazy thinking about Shawn did to me.  And thinking about my baby."

 

"Yeah, I think work is the best thing for Pamela,"  Justin says.  

 

"Uh, you don't think it's a little too soon,"  Brad says.  "I mean, come on, being CEO of a major company like Westar is a HUGE responsibility.  It's gonna require all your concentration."

 

"I know that,"  says Pamela.  "And I'm ready for that responsibility.  Justin's right, going back to work is the best thing for me."

 

"Pamela, you just went through hell.  You were raped and suffered a miscarriage....."

 

"Brad, I'm very well aware of that without you reminding me."

 

"I......I'm sorry.  But, I just worry about you going back to work so soon after such a traumatic event.  I really think you need to take some time and deal with what happened."

 

"Getting back to work and keeping my mind busy is the best way I know of to deal with what happened to me."

 

"Pamela, this is crazy,"  Brad says.  "You're pushing yourself into this too soon."

 

"Hey,"  Justin finally interrupts.  "Lay off her, okay?  She knows what she's doin'."

 

"I'm just worried about my sister."

 

"If you care about me, then respect and support my decision,"  Pamela says.  "Now if you'll excuse me, Justin and I were gonna take the boys out today, so I have to go and get them ready."  Pamela walks past her brother and leaves the room.  

 

"You can see yourself out,"  Justin says, following his wife out of the living room and down the hallway.

 

Brad sighs in frustration.  "Damn it,"  he says, full aware that he will have to deal with his 'friend' Craig's disappointment at the news of Pamela's decision to begin her new job at Westar right away.

 Brad's secretary buzzes his office later.  "Mr. Barnes, Craig Forrester is here to see you."

 

Brad closes his eyes and lets out a deep sigh.  He hesitates a moment before answering her, realizing that Craig was not going to take the news he had to give him well.  

 

"Mr. Barnes?"  The secretary says.

 

"Yes.  Yes, Sharon.  Show Mr. Forrester in."  Brad stands from his seat behind his desk.  A few seconds later, Sharon walks into the office, followed by Craig.

 

"May I get you anything?"  Sharon asks.

 

"No, thank you, I'm fine,"  Craig replies.  The secretary smiles, then leaves the office, closing the door behind her.  "Not a bad looking secretary you got there.  So, you went to see your sister and talked to her about Westar?"

 

"Yes, I did,"  Brad says.

 

"And why do I get the impression from the look on your face that I'm not gonna like what you have to tell me?"

 

"Pamela told me that she's decided to start her job at Westar first thing tomorrow morning.  So, looks like you struck out at trying to get my sister's job."

 

 

"Uh-huh,"  Craig says.  "See, I knew I wasn't gonna like what you had to tell me."

 

"Craig, I'm sorry.  I tried, but......."

 

"Well, apparently you didn't try hard enough.  I want that CEO position, Barnes."

 

"Well, you're not gonna get it,"  Brad says.  "I told you I have no influence over my sister.  Besides, this wasn't exactly her decision, at least not hers alone.  That damned Ewing she married convinced her that going back to work would be the best thing to help her deal with her trauma."

 

"Justin Ewing, huh?"  Craig asks.  "Okay, well, question is, what are we gonna do about this?"

 

"There's nothing we CAN do about it.  Pamela is starting her job as CEO of Westar tomorrow, like it or not.  You're just gonna have to find a way to get back at the Ewings for whatever it is they stole from your family some other way."

 

"I suppose there are other ways to attain justice,"  Craig says.  "And I'm gonna need your help."

 

"I have my own scores to settle with the Ewings, particularly with John Ross.  I don't have time to get involved in your plan for revenge."

 

Craig smiles.  "I hate to have to keep reminding you that I could end your tenure as head of the ORC, and possibly ruin your life, Bradley.  If the other members of the ORC, not to mention the governor, got wind of your involvement in Adam Carrington's fraudulent deal with Ewing Oil........then that would end your career for good.  It would also put an end to any future plans for a political career.  And unless you want your collusion with Carrington exposed, you'll do as I say."

 

"You're involved in this just as deeply as I am.  If I go down, then you'll go down with me."

 

"But which of us has the most to lose, Bradley?  Me?  Or you, the one who was just appointed to one of the most powerful positions in the state of Texas?  Just think about it, and I'll be in touch."  Craig walks to the door. turns to him and smiles again, and then leaves the office.

 

Brad is fuming with anger.  Unable to control his anger, he picks up a paper weight and hurts it against the wall, regretting the day he ever became involved with Craig Forrester and this scheme to get Ewing Oil into this offshore deal in California.  

Southfork....

 Charlie comes into the foyer at Southfork just as Krystina comes down the stairs with little Ellie.  "Charlie, hello,"  Krystina says.

 

"Hello, Krystina.  I came by to see Alex, is he here?"

 

"Yes, he's upstairs in his room.  He's waiting for John Ross to come home from the office.  They're going shopping this afternoon for Alex a new car."

 

"Oh, I see,"  Charlie says.  She looks down and smiles at Ellie.  "Well, hello, there, and how are you today?"

 

"Ellie, can you say hi to Charlie?"  Krystina asks.

 

"Hi,"  the little girl says.

 

"Hello.  Krystina, she's adorable."

 

 

"Thank you,"  Krystina says.  "So, ummm, John Ross tells me you're planning to stay in Dallas for a while."

 

"Yes, that's right."

 

"For how long?"

 

"I'm not sure.  I've taken a leave of absence from my job for a couple of months, and if I need longer, I'll take it.  It's one of the perks of having a position like mine.  I can still work remotely and design from Dallas, at least for a while.  I just felt it was important to be here for Alex right now."

 

"Well, I'm sure Alex is happy to hear that you'll be staying on for a while,"  Krystina says.

 

"I certainly hope so.  Well, I think I'll go on up and see him, if that's okay."

 

"Of course,"  Krystina says.  Charlie walks past her and up the stairs.

Meanwhile....Alex's room upstairs....

Alex is in his bedroom going through some of his books.  Taking some of the books from a shelf, he looks at them, and some he places into a box, while others he is putting on a stack of other books on the floor beside him.  Finally, he comes across a yearbook........Braddock High School's yearbook 2015.  Opening the yearbook, he turns to the page containing the photo of his recently deceased friend, Tyler Walden.  As Alex looks at Tyler's photo, his mind wanders back in time to an afternoon a few years earlier, to the day he first met Tyler....

********FLASHBACK....BRADDOCK HIGH SCHOOL, EARLY 2015********

 

"I'm Alex Walton."

 

"Walton?"  Tyler asks.  "You're kidding.  Wow, Walden and Walton.  Well, welcome to Braddock, Walton.  How you like it so far?"

 

"So far......I hate it."

 

"You any good at B-ball?"  Tyler asks.

 

"Yeah, I'm pretty good,"  Alex says.  

 

"Wanna play some one-on-one?"  

 

"Sure."  Alex replies.  

 

 

 

 

"Great, show me how good ya are."

 

"Let's go, then,"  says Alex.  He takes off his top shirt.

 

"Come on, make it, take it.  You do know what that means, right?"  Tyler asks.

 

"Sure I know what it means."

 

Tyler tosses the basketball to Alex, who shoots the ball and the ball swooshes through the net without even touching the net.  Tyler grabs the ball and shoots it, with the same result.  Alex again gets the ball and shoots, this time missing the basket.  

 

Tyler looks at him and smiles.  "Guess I go first,"  he says.  He shoots the ball and rings the basket, 

 

 

"Yeah, I told ya."

 

"So where're you from, Walton?"  Tyler asks.

 

"New York."

 

"What?  New York?  What's a yankee like you doin' in Texas?"

 

"I've been asking that same question ever since my Mom and I moved here," Alex replies.  

 

*******************RETURN TO PRESENT**********************

Sitting on his bedroom floor, Alex continues to look through his yearbook.  Turning the page, he comes across Shawn's photo, and his mind again travels back in time to another memory, another day a few years ago....

************FLASHBACK, BRADDOCK HIGH SCHOOL, 2016************

Alex and Shawn are walking down the hallway at Braddock High School on Shawn's second day at the school.

 

"I'm never gonna get use to this school,"  Shawn says.  "I don't know why my Mom insisted on me comin' to school here instead of Dallas."

 

"Well, I'm glad you're gonna be coming to school here," says Alex.  "It'll be nice to have someone else who's kind of an outsider around here."

 

"You?  An outsider?  Dude, you're a EWING."

 

"My last name is Walton.  Most of the kids and teachers here don't know I'm related to the Ewings, so, like you, I'm an outsider."

 

Tyler walks over to them.  "Hey, Alex, what's up?"

 

"What's goin' on, Tyler?"

 

"Who's your friend?" Tyler asks.  "You must be the new kid."

 

"Yeah, this is Shawn Smith,"  Alex says.  "He just moved here."

 

"Good to meet you, man,"  Tyler says.

 

"Yeah, you, too."

 

"Hey, listen, a bunch of us are goin' over to the skate park in Plano after school,"  Tyler says.  "You guys wanna come along?  Shawn, I'll introduce you to some of the other guys."

Alex sighs.  "I was just going through this box of photos, and looking at my old yearbooks from Braddock High."

 

"Thinking about Tyler?" Charlie asks.

 

Alex nods.  "Yeah.  Tyler, an Shawn, too.  I was thinking about the first time I ever met Tyler, on my first day at Braddock High.  He was shooting baskets on the basketball court outside the school and he challenged me to a game.  And I beat him.  And then I thought about the day I introduced Tyler to Shawn, when Shawn first started school there.  None of us knew then that Tyler was meeting his murderer.  I'm sure Shawn didn't even realize back then that he'd turn into the monster he did."  Alex picks up a photo and looks at it.

 

"Honey, why don't you put this stuff away, and I'll take you out for lunch?  How's that sound?  We can spend the afternoon together."

 

"Thanks, Mom, but, I'm really not in the mood to go out today.  I had planned on going back to work at Ewing Oil today, but, I just couldn't."

 

"Alex, don't rush.  There's plenty of time for you to go back to work."

 

"Tyler's funeral is tomorrow,"  Alex says.  "They, umm.......they had to wait this long until the final autopsy results came back.  I talked to his Dad."

 

"Y'know, sweetheart, maybe you shouldn't go to Tyler's funeral,"  Charlie says.  "Maybe it's too soon after, you know, after everything."

 

"Not go?  Mom, Tyler was one of my best friends.  He was one of the first people I met when I started Braddock High.  I can't NOT go.  I have to say goodbye to him."

 

"I'm just worried that it might be too much for you."

 

"Mom, I'm fine."

 

"Honey......"

 

"Mom, really, I am,"  says Alex.

 

"Okay, then I believe you.  But, I would like to at least have lunch with my son.  And I won't take no for an answer.  It's been a long time since you and I spent any real time alone together."

 

"Alright, sure.  I'll have lunch with you."

 

Charlie smiles.  "I knew you'd change your mind.  I'll let you change clothes.  I'll wait downstairs."

 

"Okay."  

 

Charlie kisses her son on the cheek, then walks out of the room.  Alex walks to the mirror and looks at his reflection.  

Southfork....that night....

 John Ross is standing on the back porch at Southfork that night, leaning with his right shoulder against one of the columns as he looks at the moonlight shimmering on the water of the swimming pool. 

 

Charlie comes out of the house.  "John Ross, can we talk for a minute?"

 

"Sure, we can.  What about?"  

 

"About Alex."

 

"Everything okay?"  John Ross asks.  "You two have a good time today?"

 

"Yes, we had a wonderful time.  But John Ross, I'm worried about him.  Y'know, tomorrow is his friend Tyler's funeral."

 

"I know.  I'm goin' with him to that."

 

"Well, I don't think it's a good idea for him to go at all,"  Charlie says.  "He's so emotionally vulnerable right now, I think going to this funeral will really make things worse for him."

 

"Tyler was Alex's friend, Charlie.  I think he feels like he has to go, not only to say goodbye to his friend, but also to get some kind of closure.  They never found Shawn Smith's body, so there's not gonna be a funeral for him, so, he probably feels like this is the only way he can get closure to this whole nightmare."

 

"I just worry about him."

 

"I know,"  John Ross says, walking over to her.  "But Alex knows what he's doin'.  He's a good kid, with a good head on his shoulders.  I think the best for him is to go to that funeral tomorrow and say goodbye to his friend, and then get back to work at Ewing Oil.  That'll help him put this whole thing behind him."

 

"I certainly hope you're right, but I wonder if he really WILL be able to put this behind him, John Ross.  At least not without some counseling."

 

"Charlie, I thought about that, too, but, y'know, it's like I said, Alex is a level headed kid.  He doesn't need any therapy or counselin'.  If he does, he has a whole family he can talk to or vent to if that's what he needs.  I think it's also gonna help that you're here.  Just try not to worry, and trust me.  Our son is gonna be just fine."

 

"I hope so.  Well, I should be going.  It's getting late and tomorrow is going to be a long, hard day.  I'm going to Tyler's funeral with you and Alex, if that's alright."

 

"Sure, that'll be alright,"  John Ross says.  "I know it'll help Alex, havin' his Mama there."

 

Charlie smiles.  "Well, goodnight, John Ross.  I'm gonna go and say goodnight to Alex once more before I leave."

 

John Ross nods.  Charlie smiles at him again, then touches his arm. and goes back into the house, almost bumping into Krystina, who is coming out onto the porch.  The two women exchange polite smiles.  Krystina steps onto the porch and closes the door behind her.  

 

"Is everything okay?"  Krystina asks.

 

"Yeah, everything's fine.  Charlie was just worried about Alex goin' to Tyler's funeral tomorrow."

 

"Has Charlie given any indication of how long she's gonna be staying in Dallas?"

 

"No, she hasn't, but I hope she plans to stay for a good long while,"  John Ross says, much to Krystina's chagrin.  "Alex needs both of us around him right now, to help him through this time."

 

"I suppose you're right,"  Krystina says with a sigh.

 

"It's gettin' late.  Think I'm gonna turn in.  You comin'?"

 

"In a minute.  I just wanna stay out here and get some air."

 

"Okay,"  John Ross says, and goes into the house.  

 

Krystina shakes her head and lets out a deep breath, worried that Charlie staying in Dallas could mean trouble ahead for her and John Ross.

Westar Oil....the next morning....

 Justin and Pamela walk into the offices of Westar Oil the next morning and approach the desk of the secretary.  "Good morning, Stephanie,"  Pamela says to the young woman.

 

"Mrs. Ewing, good morning.  It's so good to see you."

 

"Thank you.  Stephanie, you remember my husband, Justin Ewing?  Justin, this is Stephanie Powell."

 

"Of course.  Mr. Ewing, it's good to see you again."

 

"Good to see you, too,"  says Justin.

 

"Mrs. Ewing, I have your office all ready for you, and there are some papers on your desk that need your attention."

 

"Thank you,"  Pamela says.  "Stephanie, Justin is going to be occupying the office down the hall, the one that use to belong to Bill Pratt."

 

"Fine."

 

"Justin will also need a secretary, so would you please call the employment agency and get some in here to be interviewed?"

 

"Right away, Mrs. Ewing."

 

Pamela smiles.  "Thank you, Stephanie."  She turns to Justin.  "Well, I'd better get to work."

 

 

"Yeah, and I guess I'd better go take a look at my office and find out what I need to do,"  Justin says.  "Pamela, are you sure about this?  You sure you're ready for this?"

 

 around the beautiful, elegantly furnished office that was now hers.  After a few seconds, she proceeds to her desk and looks at the mountain of paperwork that awaits her.  She takes off her jacket and sits down behind the desk........the CEO's desk, a position that had been occupied by the likes of Jeremy Wendell, Carter McKay, J.R. Ewing, Jill Cryder, her former husbands John Ross Ewing and Tripp McKay, and .......Pamela closes her eyes when she thinks about Shawn, and her mind is filled with disgust.  Her hands begin shaking.  Then, she realizes that she needs to put Shawn Smith and all the pain he caused out of her mind and concentrate on this new job, and on making Westar bigger and better than ever.

Southfork....later....

 

Alex is standing at the mirror in his bedroom looking at himself after getting dressed for his friend Tyler's funeral.  Alex feels a lump in his throat, dreading this day with everything in him.  As he looks at himself, feelings of guilt come flooding over Alex.......guilt that he survived Shawn's reign of terror while Tyler, a totally innocent bystander, did not.  Alex closes his eyes, and a tear falls down his cheek as he thinks about his two friends, and how twisted their lives became.  He, Shawn, and Tyler.  The fun times they had together, and the dreams they had in high school.  Now, Tyler and Shawn are dead, one at the other's hand, and Alex is the one left to carry on.  Alex is startled by a knock at his door.  He quickly wipes the tear from his face.  "Come in,"  he says.

 

John Ross enters the room.  "You almost ready?"

 

"Yeah,"  Alex replies.  "As ready as I'll ever be."

 

John Ross walks over to him.  "Alex, you sure you really wanna do this?  Y'know, you don't have to go to this funeral.  You can go out to the cemetery later and say a private goodbye to your friend."

 

"No.  I have to go.  I need to go.  Not just for Tyler, but for myself.  I'll be okay."

 

John Ross nods as he places his hand on his son's shoulder.  "Fine.  I'm real proud of you, son."

 

"Thanks,"  Alex says, turning to him.  "Guess we better get going."

 

"Yeah.  I guess so," says John Ross.  "Do we have to pick up Bridget on the way, or is she gonna meet us there?"

 

"Bridget's not going,"  Alex replies.  "She's got something like the flu, so she's home in bed."  Alex again takes a quick look at himself in the mirror, and leaves the room, John Ross following behind him.  

A cemetery in Dallas....later....

 

 

A hearse pulls up at a cemetery followed by several limousines and dozens of other cars as Tyler's funeral procession arrives at the cemetery for his burial.  The cars come to a stop in a row behind the hearse.  Out of the second limousine, a group of young men and boys emerge, the six pallbearers, and take their place in back of the hearse.  From the limo parked directly behind the hearse, Tyler's family emerges, including his father, mother, younger brother and two sisters, and his grandparents, Bobby's friend Detective Steve Walden and his wife.  

 The pallbearers, which include a couple of Tyler's former classmates from Braddock High, and some of his younger cousins, take hold of the casket and make their way with it to the gravesite.  Tyler's grief-stricken family follows behind.  

 

John Ross, Alex, Krystina, Charlie, Jenna, Bobby, and Ann get out of a limousine parked several cars behind the hearse.  

 Alex walks a short distance up the hill toward the gravesite, but stops, hesitant to go any closer as he watches the pallbearers carry Tyler's bronze casket to the grave and gently place it onto the bier.  Charlie walks up beside her son.  

 

"Alex,"  she says.

 

"I'm fine, Mom.  I think I'll stand right here."

 

"You sure?"  John Ross asks.  "You can't see or hear too well from here."

 

"I can see and hear just fine.  You guys go on ahead.  I'd rather stay here."

 

"I'll stay with you,"  says Charlie.

 

"No, Mom, please.  You and Dad go on up.  I wanna be by myself."

 

"Alex,"  Charlie says.

 

"Charlie, come on,"  says John Ross.  "You heard the boy.  He wants to be by himself.  Come on."

 

Reluctantly, Charlie walks away from her son, and she and John Ross join the rest of the large crowd gathering around Tyler's graveside.  

 

The minister steps forward and opens his Bible.  "I want to begin by reading a portion of one of Tyler's favorite scriptures.  It's from Ecclesiastes, chapter 3:  'To everything there is a season,

A time for every purpose under heaven: A time to be born, And a time to die;  A time to plant, And a time to pluck what is planted;  A time to kill, And a time to heal;  A time to break down, And a time to build up;  A time to weep, And a time to laugh;  A time to mourn, And a time to dance.'  Standing before you today to say goodbye to my nephew Tyler is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Words cannot describe the sorrow and loss that I am feeling, but I will try.  My brother's son, Tyler was a wonderful, sweet boy. Even as a baby, he had a calm temperament and as he grew into a little boy, he always took things in his stride.  My own son, Josh, is the same age as Tyler.  In fact, Tyler was only 6 days older than Josh, and the two cousins were very close, and were the best of friends in school from their very first day of kindergarten until my family moved from Braddock 6 years ago.  I remember Tyler and Josh's many nights spent together at our house. Tyler was at our house so often when he was little that he was more like another son to my wife Linda and I than he was a nephew.  I remember my brother Mark and I taking our sons camping and fishing.  I remember coaching Tyler and Josh in baseball when they both played for the recreation department's boys' league.  So many memories.  My nephew was only 21-years old when he was so cruelly taken from us, but Tyler left so many memories behind, and he left such a mark on the lives of everyone who knew him.  But probably left his biggest mark on the lives of his younger siblings.  Tyler was the oldest of my brother's three children.  His younger brother Ryan and his sister Kaylee both adored and looked up to their big brother.  Tyler's death leaves a huge void in their lives that no one can ever fill.  Since my wife and I got the horrible news, I've been asking myself 'why?'  Why was such a fine, loving, kind, handsome young man so cruelly taken from us at such a young age.  Tyler was 21.  He'd barely just begun to live.  Many times over the last few days I've turned to prayer and to my Bible for answers.  This is one verse that has given me particular comfort, and it is my prayer it will give each one of you who grieve for Tyler comfort as well.  John Chapter 11, verses 25 and 26:  'Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.'  We can take comfort in the fact that my nephew was a young man of strong faith in God.  Tyler was a believer, and today, we mourn his loss in our lives, but we can rejoice in knowing that, at this very moment, Tyler is at peace in Heaven with Jesus and with Grandma and Grandpa Jackson, and his Uncle Steven, my oldest brother who died in Iraq 15 years ago.  And now, Tyler's brother, Ryan, would like to share a poem with you.  Ryan."

 

Tyler's 17-year-old brother, Ryan, stands and steps forward to speak to the large crowd gathered.  The boy braces himself and fights to hold back his tears before he begins.  "My brother Tyler was not only my big brother, he was my best friend.  And he was a talented writer.  I'd like to share with you a poem my brother wrote when he was 16:

'The power of words, is awesome to behold.

They build and they break, they furl and they fold.

A simple word, empowers a man,

Or throws his hopes, his dreams in the can.

Such simple devices, such miniscule tools,

But used correct, can elevate fools.

 Alex continues to watch from a distance as the minister says the closing prayer.  Once the prayer is finished and the service is over, the crowd begins to disperse.  From the crowd gathered around Tyler's gravesite, Charlie looks over at her son standing near the limousine so far away, and her heart breaks at what a lonely figure Alex make, standing all by himself, away from the rest of the mourners.

 

Bobby and Ann approach their friend, Dallas Police Lt. Steve Walden.  "Steve, we're so sorry about Tyler,"  Bobby says.  "He was a fine young man."

 

"Thank you, Bobby,"  Steve says.  "He certainly was."

 

"Steve, if there's anything we can do for you and your family, please don't hesitate to let us know,"  says Ann.

 

"Thank you, Ann,"  Steve says.  

 

Meanwhile, Tyler's mother is too overcome with grief to speak to and greet the people who attended her son's funeral.  Alex watches as Tyler's father helps his wife to an awaiting limousine and puts her in, their son Ryan and daughter Kaylee getting in behind their mother.  Alex approaches the man. 

 

"Mr. Walden,"  Alex says.

 

"Oh, hello, Alex."

 

"Mr. Walden, I just wanted to tell you again how sorry I am about Tyler.  He was a great guy, and he was one of my best friends."

"I know, Alex, and thank you,"  Mark Walden says.  "Tyler thought the world of you, too.  Alex, we wanted to ask you to be a pallbearer, but after my wife and I talked about it, we thought it might be too much for you, and too soon, after what you've been through yourself."

 

"It's fine, I understand."

 

"Shawn Smith,"  Mark says.  "I still find it hard to believe.  We use to have that kid over to our house. He spent the night with Tyler a few times.  You both did.  We never imagined then that he'd take my son's life.  I guess you can never really know anyone.  Well, Alex, you take care."

 

"I will, and you do the same.  If you and Mrs. Walden need anything, please let me know."

 

Mark nods.  "We will, thanks," he says, then gets into the limo with his wife and two surviving children.  

 

John Ross and Charlie walk up to their son.  "Alex, you ready to go?"  John Ross asks.  

 

 

From a short distance away, an upset Krystina watches as John Ross and Charlie flank their son, and the three make their way to the limousine together, looking very much like a family. 

 

 

 

 

Days Inn, Dallas....afternoon....

 Cory Winthrop uses the key card and unlocks the door to the motel room where Dylan is staying.  Going into the room, Cory finds Dylan passed out on the bed, his right arm hanging down to the floor and an empty liquor bottle on the floor beside the bed.  Cory shakes his head, then walks over to him. "Dylan,"  he says, shaking him.  "Hey, Dylan, wake up."

 

Slowly, Dylan opens his eyes and looks at him.  "Wha....??"

 

"I brought you some stuff,"  Cory says, placing the bag he carried with him on the bed.  "I got you some body wash and shampoo, some food, and a change of clothes."

"Is.......is that all?"  Dylan asks.  "Jasmine promised me....."

 

"Liquor, yeah, I know,"  says Cory.  He reaches into the bag and pulls out a bottle of Vodka.  Dylan quickly grabs the bottle, opens it, and takes a drink.

 

"Y'know, man, you're just killing yourself with that stuff,"  Cory says.  

 

"So?  Why should you care?  You don't even know me."

 

"You don't have to know someone to care what happens to them," Cory says.  "But, hey, it's your life, so if you wanna drink it away, then go ahead."

 

"Gee, thanks for your kind permission," Dylan sarcastically says.  

 

"Look, man, before you get too drunk to stand up, why don't you use some of that body wash and shampoo I brought and go take a shower?"

 

"You saying I stink?"  Dylan asks.

 

"Well, you're not exactly the most pleasant person to be around right now, and I don't just mean your crappy attitude." 

 

"If you feel that way, then just get the hell out of here,"  Dylan says.  "No one invited you to stay."

 

"My sister is paying for this room, and SHE asked me to stay.  She asked me to keep you company until she could come by later.  I guess maybe she's afraid you'll set fire to the room or something.  Just do us both a favor and take a shower.  This is a small room."  Cory tosses Dylan the bottle of body wash.  

 

Dylan looks at the bottle of Axe body wash in his hand, He gives Cory an angry look, then reluctantly gets out of bed and goes into the bathroom.  

Southfork....

 Sue Ellen walks into the foyer at Southfork later that afternoon and looks around for anyone.  She spots Bobby sitting alone in the living room reading the daily paper.  "Hello, Bobby,"  she says.

 

"Hello, Sue Ellen,"  Bobby says, standing to greet her with a kiss on the cheek.  "How are you?"

 

"Just fine.  I just came out to see how Alex is doing."

 

"As well as can be expected, I guess.  We all went to Tyler Walden's funeral earlier today, and I think that was kinda hard on him."

 

 "I knew that his friend Tyler's funeral was today,"  Sue Ellen says.  

 

"Well, as hard as it was, I think it was good for Alex to go to Tyler's funeral.  I'm just glad this whole nightmare with Shawn Smith is finally over."

 

"Is it over, Bobby?"  Sue Ellen asks.  "I mean, is it REALLY over for Alex?  I hope and pray it is, but, I'm afraid that Alex might have some lingering or even long term psychological effects from what happened to him.  Especially from seeing Shawn fall to his death."

 

"I've been concerned about that, too.  But I think Alex is gonna be fine.  He's a strong, level headed young man and he has the support of this entire family, not to mention all his friends."

 

"I think I'll go up and see him, but first, Bobby, I have some papers for you to sign.  Ewing Oil business."

 

Bobby sighs.  "Alright, let me have 'em."

 

Sue Ellen hands Bobby the papers from her purse.  He takes a seat on the sofa and begins looking them over.  "Bobby, there IS something that I think we should talk about.  Something that I've been wanting to discuss with you for a while now, but, something always seems to be happening that gets in the way of it, but, I don't think it can be put off any longer.  I hate to bring this up, especially at a time like this, but, it's been quite some time since you've been in to the office, and I just have to ask what your plans are?"

 

"My plans?"  Bobby asks.

 

"Well, yes.  Bobby, the company has been going along quite smoothly for this last year with John Ross as interim president, and you still technically being the company's president, even though your role has been largely behind the scenes.  But Bobby, Ewing Oil can't go on like this indefinitely.  The company needs a permanent president at the helm, and if you have no plans to return to a more active role....."

 

"You're right, Sue Ellen, it HAS been a while since I've put in a day's work at Ewing Oil, and things can't go on like this much longer.  I've been doing a lot of thinking about this, myself."

 

"And have you decided what you're going to do?"

 

"Yes, Sue Ellen, I have.  I think it's time I officially retired from Ewing Oil, and from the oil business."

 

Sue Ellen takes a seat beside him.  "Bobby, are you absolutely sure that's what you want?"

 

"Yes, it IS what I want, Sue Ellen.  I've given it a lot of thought, and I'm perfectly happy right here at Southfork, occasionally helping Lucas and Christopher on the ranch, but, mostly I'm happy just spendin' time with Ann and my grandsons.  And if I retire officially and have no ties to Ewing Oil, it'll give Ann and me a chance to travel some, like we've always wanted to do."

 

Sue Ellen smiles and nods.  "Well, I think you're making the right decision.  It's very obvious to me that you're happiest here at the ranch than you are in the office."

 

"I truly am, Sue Ellen.  And my retiring means that I'm gonna have to name my successor.  Would you happen to be interested?"

 

Sue Ellen laughs.  "Bobby, thank you, but as flattered as I am by your offer, umm, no.  I think the position of president of Ewing Oil should be held by someone younger.  I think you have the right idea.  Maybe it's time that our generation stepped aside in favor of the next."

 

"Now don't tell me you're thinkin' of retiring, too,"  Bobby says.  

 

"Not exactly.  But I'm happy with my limited role as a lesser vice president.  There's not much responsibility, and I can take off whenever I want to.  I wouldn't wanna give that up for the stress of being the president.  So have you given any thought to your successor?"

 

"Yes, I've been thinking about that, too.  You think John Ross should become permanent president of Ewing Oil don't you?"

 

"Well, Bobby, John Ross is the logical choice,"  Sue Ellen says.  "He's been running the company for a while now, and he's been doing a wonderful job."

 

"You're right.  John Ross has been doing a great job as acting president in my absence."

 

"Then why do I get the feeling you're hesitant to name him your successor?"  Sue Ellen asks.  

 

"Sue Ellen...."

 

"You still don't completely trust him, do you?  Even after all this time?  Bobby, hasn't John Ross proven himself?"

 

"He has been on his best behavior since becoming acting president, yes.  But Sue Ellen, this whole past year that he's been acting president, he's still had to answer to me, and to you.  He's had to discuss all major deals with the two of us.  If I name John Ross as my successor, and he becomes Ewing Oil's president in every sense of the word, then he won't have those restrictions.  He'll be perfectly free to do anything he wants."

 

"Bobby, that's ridiculous, you, I, Christopher, we're all still share holders in Ewing Oil.  To make any major decisions that would affect the company, John Ross would have to call a board meeting and it would have to be put to a vote.  Bobby, I just can't believe that, after all this time, you still don't trust John Ross or believe in him."

 

"Sue Ellen, I want to, BELIEVE me, I do.  But John Ross has a history of acting impulsively and not putting the company's best interest at heart."

 

Sue Ellen stands from her seat and looks down at him.  "This is also about J.R., isn't it?"  She asks.

 

"Sue Ellen, this has nothing to do with J.R.,"  Bobby says.

 

"Oh, I think it does.  You think John Ross is too much like his father, and therefore you don't trust him with Ewing Oil's future."

 

"Sue Ellen, I'm sorry.  But whoever I name as my successor as president of Ewing Oil is going to BE the future of the company, our family's company.  It's gonna have to be the RIGHT decision.  And whoever that successor is, whether it's John Ross or somebody else, it's gonna have to be MY decision, and no one else's."

 

 

"Your decision,"  Sue Ellen says.  "It appears to me that you've already made it."  Sue Ellen looks at him angrily, then turns and walks out of the room.  "Tell my grandson that I'll call him later!" She angrily says as she walks out.

 

 

 

 

Westar....

Meanwhile, Pamela is presiding over a meeting of her new staff at Westar, and one of Westar's department heads is speaking.  "And those are our projected earnings for the next two quarters," the man says.  "If we stay the course, we can double our profit margin by next spring."

 

"Thank you, Victor," Pamela says.  "Does anyone have anything to add?  If not, then I'd like to thank you all for your patience, and for your attentiveness.  I look forward to meeting each of you one on one in the coming days, and to working with you.  With your help, we will make Westar as great a company as it ever was.  Thank you all."

 

"Mrs. Ewing, on behalf of our entire staff, I'd like to congratulate you and welcome you to Westar," one of the men at the table says.

 

"Thank you, Bob, I really appreciate that.  Well, the meeting is over, and if any of you have any questions or concerns or problems, my office door is always open to you.  Have a good rest of the day."

 

 Ashley steps off the elevator in front of the apartment she now shares with Clay and finds Conner sitting on the floor in the hallway in front of the apartment door.  "Conner, what are you doing here?"  She asks.

 

"Waiting for you,"  Conner says, standing to his feet.  "Ashley, I've been calling you and texting you for days, and you won't reply to my texts or return my calls.  I had to see you."

 

"I've been out driving around looking for Dylan.  I must have driven over this entire city."

 

"Yeah, so have I,"  says Conner.  "Ray and Donna have even hired a private detective, and he hasn't even found a trace of him."

 

"Where could he be, Conner?"  Ashley asks.  "Dylan couldn't have just vanished into thin air."

 

"I don't know.  Ash, can we go inside and talk?"

 

"No."

 

"Why not?  Ash, why are you avoiding me?"

 

"Why am I avoiding you?  Conner, don't you understand?  This whole thing is our fault.  Dylan could be lying dead in an alley somewhere, and we did this to him."

 

"Look, I hate that Dylan found out the way that he did, and I HATE Jasmine Cory for her part in this.  I hate like hell that my brother is out there missing.  I hate the pain that we caused him.  But Ashley, I do NOT for one minute regret what we feel for each other.  Ashley, I love you, and I know that you love me."

 

"No,"  Ashley says.  "I can't love you, Conner.  Look at what the pain that we caused.  I was Dylan's girlfriend, and you're his brother.  We were both supposed to love him, and what did we do?  We destroyed him.  Conner, just go away and leave me alone."

 

"Go away and leave you alone?"  Conner asks, grabbing her by the arm.  "Ashley, I can't do that.  I love you."

 

At that moment, the elevator doors open and Clay steps off.  "What the hell's goin' on here?  Conner, what are you doin' here?"

 

"I came to see Ashley."

 "I don't think my sister wants to see you," Clay says.  "So why don't you just leave her alone?"

 

"Look, Clay, no offense, but this is really none of your business, so stay out of it."

 

 

 Cory is sitting on one of the beds in the motel room Jasmine had rented for Dylan, flipping channels on the TV, bored out of his mind, while Dylan sits on the other bed, drinking vodka straight from the bottle.  Cory finally puts down the remote and looks at him.  Cory gets up and goes over to Dylan.  "Come on, dude, I think you've had enough,"  he says.

 

"No........way......."  Dylan says, his speech slurred.  

 

"Dylan, give me the botte."

 

"No.......leave me alone.  Go get your own."

 

"You've had enough of that stuff, now give me the bottle."

 

"Go to HELL!"  Dylan angrily says.

 

"Okay, that's it.  Give me that damned bottle,"  Cory says, quickly grabbing the vodka from Dylan's hand.  

 

"Give it back!"  Dylan says.

 

"No.  I may not know you very well, and to be honest, I don't even like you, but I'll be damned if I'm gonna sit here and watch you drink yourself into a coma."

 

"You.....son.....of a bitch!"  Dylan says.  He manages to get off the bed, and when he attempts to grab for Cory, he trips over his own feet and falls to the floor, hitting his head on the side of a table.

 

Meanwhile, Jasmine's car pulls into a parking space in front of the motel and comes to a stop.  Getting out of the car, she takes out a large bag containing dinner for Cory and Dylan, and as she passes by the motel's office on her way to the room, she sees two police officers in the office talking to the desk clerk.  Jasmine stops and watches through the window as the police are showing the desk clerk a photo.  She is shocked to see the it is a photo of Dylan that the police are showing.  Jasmine's heart skips a beat.  She quickly rushes to the room.  

 

A few seconds later, Jasmine rushes into the room.  "Cory, we have to......."  she stops suddenly when she sees Dylan laying on the bed, and Cory wiping blood from a cut on Dylan's forehead with a piece of paper.  "Oh my God, what happened?"  She frantically asks.

 

"He fell and hit his head,"  Cory replies.  "He's so drunk he can't even stand on his own two feet."

 

"We may have a serious problem."

 

"What problem?"

 

"The cops are here,"  Jasmine says.  "I saw them in the office showing Dylan's photo to the desk clerk."

 

"The COPS?"  Cory asks.  "Jasmine, why would the cops be looking for Dylan?"

 

"We have to get Dylan out of here.  My car's out front.  If we can get him to my car, just take him and drive around for a while until the cops leave."

 

"Jasmine, why would the cops be looking for Dylan?"  A frightened Cory asks.  

 

"Don't you understand, you lame brain?  Dylan has been missing for more than a week now.  No one knows where he is."

 

"No one?  Oh my God, Jasmine, what the hell?  What have you gotten me into?"

 

"Come on, help me,"  Jasmine says as she tries to get a nearly unconscious Dylan up.  

 

"Wait a second.......,"  Cory says, rubbing his head.  If no one knows where he is, and we've been keeping him hidden here in this motel all this time time, then.........oh my God.  Jasmine, this is kidnapping."

 

"I guess......TECHNICALLY.......you could call it that,"  Jasmine says.  "Are you gonna help me or not?"

 

"No way,"  Cory says.  "Jasmine, I am NOT gonna be a part of any kidnapping."

 

"Listen to me, little brother.  If I go down for this, you're going down with me.  Not only are you a part of helping me with this.....'kidnapping'.....as you call it, but I'll also blow your little gay secret.  So you can sit back and watch your whole pathetic life go up in smoke, or you can help me get him out of here, drive around with him for a while, and then come back once the cops are gone.  Now MOVE!"

 

Terrified, Cory runs over and helps his sister get Dylan to his feet.  A few seconds later, Jasmine opens the door to the room and peeks out.  Seeing no one, she motions for Cory.  The brother and sister drag Dylan out of the room, Cory on one side of him, Jasmine on the other.  As they start down the walk way toward the front of the motel where Jasmine's car is parked, they see the two police officers going door to door, checking each of the rooms.  

 

"Come on, this way,"  Jasmine whispers.  The brother and sister drag the intoxicated Dylan down the back steps and to the rear of the motel.  Moving along the back wall of the building, Jasmine peeks around the corner of the motel to see if anyone is around.  Seeing no one, Jasmine motions to Cory, and the two make their way to the front of the building dragging Dylan between them, and to Jasmine's car.  Jasmine quickly opens the back door, and they places Dylan in the back seat, laying down.  

 

"Okay, here are my keys,"  Jasmine says to her brother, handing him the car keys.  "Drive around, and I'll text you when it's safe to come back."

 

"Jasmine, I swear, you owe me big time for this,"  Cory says.  "I can't believe I'm actually doing this."

 

"Just get going,"  Jasmine says.  As Cory drives away, Jasmine quickly sneaks back around the building and to the motel room, going in and closing the door only seconds before the police emerge from the room just two doors down.  While the police knock on the door next to Jasmine's room, Jasmine is rushing around trying to get rid of any evidence that Dylan was present in the room, stuffing his liquor bottles into a suitcase along with his clothes, and shoving it into the closet.  She sprays perfume around the room, and climbs into bed with the TV remote just as the police knock on the door.  A few seconds later they knock again.  Jasmine nervously gets out of bed and goes to the door.  "Who is it?"  She asks.

 

"Police, ma'am.  Could you open the door?  We have a few questions."

 

"Just......just a minute,"  Jasmine says.  Jasmine pauses a moment to catch her breath, then opens the door to two police officers.  "Yes, can I help you?"

 

"Sorry to disturb you, ma'am, but we're looking for someone, and we're checking all the motels in the area," one of the officers says.

 

"Oh?  Is this person dangerous?"  Jasmine asks.

 

"No, not at all,"  the other officer replies.  "It's a young man who's been missing for a little more than a week now.  His name is Dylan Ewing, he's 24-years-old.  Here's a photo of him."  The officer hands Jasmine the picture of Dylan.  "Have you seen him?"

 

"He's very good looking,"  says Jasmine.  "No, I haven't seen him.  You say he's not in any trouble?"

 

"No. His family is just worried about him, that's all."

 

"Well, if you do see him, give us a call,"  the second officer says.  "Here's our number."  He hands Jasmine a card with the number of a local police precinct.

 

"Yes, I will.  I certainly will."

 

"Thank you, ma'am,"  says the first officer.  "You have a good evening now."

 

"Thanks, you, too.  And, I hope you find him."

 

Both officers politely tip their hats, then leave.  Jasmine closes the door behind them and breathes a sigh of relief.  

The Krebbs Ranch....the next morning....

 Donna is standing at the kitchen door of the Krebbs home the next morning looking out the window at the morning sun shimmering on the swimming pool, sipping a cup of coffee.  Ray comes into the kitchen and pours himself a cup of coffee at the stove.  He walks over to Donna and puts his arms around her from behind.  "I woke up and you were gone,"  he says.

 

"I've been up all night,"  Donna says.  "I couldn't sleep.  Finally I got tired of laying in bed staring up at the dark ceiling, so I got up and came down here around 5:30."

 

"Yeah, I haven't gotten a lot of sleep either,"  Ray says.  

 

"Ray, where could he be?  Where in the world could Dylan be?"

 

"I don't know, sweetheart.  But we've got the police and a private detective lookin' for him.  They're gonna find him, Donna."

 

"But what if it's too late?"  Donna asks.  "I keep picturing in my mind Dylan laying in ditch somewhere, hurt, or........or worse."

 

"Donna, listen to me.  You can't do this to yourself."

 

"I can't help but thinking this is all our fault.  God, Ray, how could we have missed what was going on between Conner and Ashley?"

 

Meanwhile, as Ray and Donna continue to talk, Conner comes down the stairs.  He walks through the dining room and starts to go into the kitchen when he hears Ray and Donna talking. He stops and 

listens at the door.

 

"I'm so angry, Ray,"  Donna says.  "Every time I think about Conner and Ashley together, and how much they hurt Dylan, I........it just makes me angry all over again. How could Conner have done that to his brother?"

 

"Donna, I know Conner never meant to hurt Dylan.  He loves his brother," says Ray.

 

"Obviously not enough to stop himself from sleeping with Dylan's girlfriend.  If anything has happened to Dylan, Ray, I don't.........I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive Conner and Ashley."

 

Ray puts his arms around Donna and embraces her.  Standing in the doorway, tears begin falling down Conner's cheek, his heart breaking from all the pain he has caused, not only to Dylan, but to Ray and Donna as well.  Conner turns and leaves the dining room and heads back upstairs.  A moment later he walks into his bedroom.  He takes off his shirt and tosses it onto the bed, then goes to his dresser, opens the top drawer and takes out another shirt, which he slips on.  Conner then opens his closet door and takes out his suitcase.  He unzips the suitcase, and begins packing his clothes, realizing it would be best for everyone if he just left, especially if Dylan is found and brought home.  After packing a few shirts and some underwear and pants, Dylan slips on his jacket, then picks up his phone and dials 

a number.  He waits for an answer, which comes after the second ring.  "C.J., hey it's me,"  Conner says.  "I need a favor, man.  I need a place to stay, so, can I come stay at your place for a while?  No, no, they didn't kick me out.  I decided it's best for everyone if I leave.  I just can't stay here anymore.  Okay, thanks, bro, I really appreciate it.  I'll be over in a little while.  Bye."  Conner ends the call and puts his phone away.  Picking up his suitcase, he goes to the door.  Pausing a few seconds, he looks around the room, a sad expression on his face, then he leaves, closing the door behind him.

Southfork....later....

 Bobby and Christopher are working at Southfork late in the morning, looking over a new calf that had been born a couple of days earlier.  "Go  on, get in there,"  Bobby says to the little calf as he heads the animal back toward its mother.  

 

"New calf looks good, Dad,"  Christopher says.

 

"Yes, he does.  It was touch and go for a while, but thank God, he's healthy."

 

"Yeah," Christopher says.  "Dad is everything okay?  You seem like you have something on your mind."

Bobby looks at his son and smiles.  "That obvious, huh?"

 

"Well, to me, yeah, because I know you like a book.  What's on your mind, Dad?"

 "I've been doing a lot of thinkin' lately about the future, and about the past," Bobby says.  "And I've come to a decision.  It's time that I retire, officially, as president of Ewing Oil."

 

"Dad, that's, that's a big decision.  You sure about this?"

 

"I'm sure.  I haven't taken an active role in running the company in a long time now.  Not since my heart attack, and it's not right that I continue to retain the title of president when I'm not even there."

 

"I can certainly understand that," says Christopher.  "So what happens now?  You officially turn the reigns of Ewing Oil over to John Ross?"

 "Well, it's not that simple, son,"  Bobby says.  "John Ross has been running Ewing Oil, and he's been doing a good job.  It's been a long time since he's gotten himself into trouble at the company."

 

Christopher shakes his head in dismay upon hearing these words from Bobby, since Christopher knows about John Ross's secret deal with Adam Carrington and ColbyCo.  

 

"The thing is,"  Bobby continues.  "I'm still not 100% sure I can trust John Ross with Ewing Oil on a permanent basis.  The way things have been, if he messed up, I could step in.  But if I make him president of the company on a permanent basis, then he won't have anyone lookin' over his shoulder to keep him in line.  Christopher, I have to ask..........do you ever think about comin' back to work at the office?  Do ya ever miss it?  Is there any chance that you might consider comin' back and running the company?"

 

"Dad, are you asking me to come back and step in as president of Ewing Oil?"

 

"I'm not asking you if you will, I'm asking if you have any interest in doing so."

 

"Well, then, my answer is no,"  Christopher says.  "Dad, I'm very happy right here, running the ranch with Lucas.  And with everything such a mess between me and Courtney, and my marriage, and the future so up in the air right, there's no way I'd wanna burden myself with the stress of running Ewing Oil. In fact, I don't think I ever wanna be a part of the oil business again.  I love Southfork, and I love ranching.  And this is what I wanna do, run Southfork right alongside Lucas."

 

Bobby looks at Christopher and smiles.  He puts his hand on Christopher's shoulder.  "Somehow, I knew that's what you were gonna say."

 

"So what are you gonna do?"  Christopher asks.  "About Ewing Oil, I mean?"

 

"Well, you and Lucas have both made it clear now that you prefer ranching to the oil business.  Justin is now a part of Westar, so whoever is gonna succeed me as president comes down to a choice between John Ross and Clay."

 

"Clay?  You're actually considering Clay for the job?"  Christopher asks.

 

"Sure, why not?  Clay's young, he's smart, and he's got a hell of a head for business, and he's already a part of Ewing Oil.  And, he's J.R.'s grandson."

 

"John Ross is gonna blow a gasket when he finds out he's in competition with Clay for his job."

 

Bobby sighs.  "I know.  But the future of Ewing Oil is at stake here, son, and I have to make damn sure I put the right man in the job.  Now I truly understand how my Daddy felt when he was tryin' to decide whether J.R. or I should run the company after he was gone.  Y'know, son, I guess in a way I always knew things would turn out like this."

 

"Turn out like what?"

 

"My side of the family running this ranch, and J.R.'s side running Ewing Oil."

 

"I really don't envy you, Dad,"  says Christopher.  "Having to choose someone to succeed you as president of Ewing Oil."

 

Bobby looks at him and lets out a slight laugh.  "I don't envy me, either.  I'll see you back up at the house," he says, then walks away from Christopher, heading back to the mansion.

Westar....

 

 

Pamela's secretary buzzes her office.  "Mrs. Ewing, there's a lady here to see you.  She won't give her name, but she says it's very important that she see you."

 

"Umm, okay, show her in,"  Pamela says, curious who her mystery visitor is.  She stands from her seat at the desk.  A moment later, the office door opens and Pamela is surprised when her secretary, Stephanie, walks into the office with Sharon Smith.  

 

"Hello, Pamela,"  Sharon says, her voice shaky.  

 

"Sharon, what are you doing here?"

 

"I needed to see you.  Can we talk, please?"

 

"Thank you, Stephanie, that will be all,"  Pamela says.

 

"Yes, Mrs. Ewing,"  Stephanie says and leaves.  

 

"Thank you for seeing me,"  Sharon says.

 

"Sharon, why are you here?  You said you wanted to talk to me."

 

"Yes.  I came here because I didn't want to come to your home, and because I........I wanted to this place.  These offices where both of my sons........where Tripp and Shawn were.  But I wanted to see you for two reasons."

 

"And what reasons are those?"

 

"First of all, I wanted to......I wanted to apologize to you for what Shawn did to you.  For the pain that he caused you.  For the pain that two of my sons caused you.  Tripp and Shawn were my sons.  I gave birth to them, but Tripp was a stranger to me.  I gave he and Hunter up when they were  very young, when I left them with their grandfather.  But Shawn........I raised him.  I raised him from the moment he was born, but I didn't recognize the person he had become.  What he did to you was.... ........unforgiveable.  And I'm so sorry."

 

"Sharon, I don't blame you for what Shawn did,"  Pamela says.  

 

"Thank you for that.  The second reason I came here was that I wanted to talk to you about Hunter."

 

"What about him?"

 

"I hope that you will let me see Hunter from time to time.  I hope that you won't let what happened....."

 

"Sharon, I wouldn't do that,"  Pamela says.  "I don't blame you for what Shawn did to me.  And I would certainly never keep you from seeing Hunter.  You ARE his grandmother, after all."

 

"Thank you for that.  Well, I'll get out of here and let you get back to work. Umm, I'll call you and you can let me know when it's a good time to see Hunter."

 

"That will be fine,"  Pamela says.  

 

Sharon nods.  "Goodbye, Pamela."

 

"Bye, Sharon."

 

As Sharon is leaving the office, she almost runs into Justin.  Sharon nods to him, then walks past and heads to the elevator.  Justin watches the woman as she gets onto the elevator and the doors close.  He then goes into Pamela's office.  

 

"What was Sharon Smith doin'  here?"  Justin asks.

 

"She came to talk to me about Hunter.  She was afraid that, because of what happened with Shawn, I wouldn't let her see Hunter anymore, but I assured her that's not the case."

 

"So you're okay with her havin' visits with Hunter?"

 

"Of course,"  Pamela replies.  "She's his grandmother."

 

"I just thought it might be difficult for you, seein' her after what her son did."

 

"Sharon isn't responsible for the terrible things Shawn did.  She's as much a victim of Shawn as any of us.  And as much a survivor."

 

Justin walks over to his wife and gently touches her face.  "This is one of the reasons why I love you so much.  You have such a big heart."

 

"I love you, too,"  Pamela says.  With some reluctance, she allows Justin to embrace her and she lays her head on his shoulder, a worried look on her face.

Southfork....afternoon....

 

 

 

Michael is working out on the back lawn at Southfork that afternoon, lifting weights as he works hard to build his muscles.  As Michael struggles to lift the heavy weights, Alex comes onto the back porch.  Noticing his cousin, he stops and watches Michael for a while.  "Not bad,"  he finally says.

 

"Oh, hey, Alex.  Didn't see you there.  I really appreciate you lettin' me use your weights."

 

"Yeah, no problem, man.  You kinda remind me of myself when I first started lifting.  Why this sudden interest in lifting weights?"

 

"Just tired of bein' the smallest, scrawniest kid in school, that's all.  I promised myself that this summer, I was not only gonna grow taller, but I was gonna get built.  Then when I go back to school in the fall, nobody'll mess with me."

 "You havin' problems with a bully again?"  Alex asks.

 

"No, not exactly, I just wanna be ready in case.  Especially going into high school,"  Michael says.  "And, maybe if I get a little built, I'll have a better chance at impressing the girls in high school."

 

"You got a point there."

 

"I thought you were going back to work at Ewing Oil today."

 

"I was but.......I changed my mind.  Just didn't feel up  to it today."

 

"Alex, I'm really sorry about Tyler,"  Michael says.  "And I've never told you thanks for that day, you know, when you came out when Shawn was holding all of us.  You risked your life to save us."

 

"Yeah, well, what are cousins for, huh?"  

 

"I'm really sorry about what Shawn did to you.  You haven't talked about it since you've been home."

 

"And I don't wanna talk about it,"  Ale snaps, and then immediately feels bad.  "I'm sorry, Michael, I didn't mean to snap at you.  It's just that, I really don't wanna talk about Shawn or what happened....... ever again.  I just wanna forget about it."

 

"My Mom always says that talkin' about stuff helps you deal with it,"  says Michael.

 

"That's not always true.  Well, I gotta run into town.  I'm gonna go and see Bridget.  She's still sick.  When I get back this evening I'll give you some pointers on lifting."

 

 Jasmine walks up to the door of the motel room she had rented for Dylan.  Looking around to make sure no one is watching, she uses the key card to unlock the door, and goes in.  Upon entering the 

 room, she finds Cory standing in front of the door looking at her angrily, as if he had been waiting for her to arrive..  She smiles.  "Hey, little brother, what's happening?"  She cheerfully asks.

 

"What's happening?"  Cory repeats.  "What's HAPPENING?  You leave me here all freaking night and most of the day to babysit that guy, and you don't answer my texts."

 

"I'm sorry.  Mom roped me into going to lunch with her, and you know how that goes.  Where's Dylan?"

 

"In the shower,"  Cory says.  

 

"Well......that's good."

 

"Good?  Jasmine, the guy's a complete mess.  Only reason he's in the shower is because he got so sick from drinking so much that he puked all over himself.  He wouldn't even take a shower if I didn't force him to.  And that crap last night when the cops came here looking for him and I had to drive around with him.  How much longer is this gonna go on?"

 

"Not much longer, I promise."

 

"Yeah, well it better not.  Because soon......I'm out.  You hear me, sis, I'm OUT.  I'm sick of this."

 

"You're out when I say you're out, little brother.  And if you don't continue helping me, I WILL out you, in the literal sense of the word, if you get my drift."

 

"You're such a bitch, Jasmine."

 

"Just shut up and chill out, Cory.  Soon, I'll take Dylan home, and this will all be over."

 

"You'll take him home and look like the big hero in front Ray and Donna Krebbs?  Or in front of Dylan's brother Conner?"

 

"I have my reasons, and they're none of your business,"  Jasmine says.  "Look, you're not gonna get into any trouble.  No one will know you're involved in this, unless you tell  someone."

 

"You mean involved in this kidnapping?"

 

"This isn't a kidnapping.  Dylan is here of his own free will."

 

"Free will?"  Cory asks.  "Jasmine, you're keeping the guy so wasted that he doesn't know night from day most of the time.  How's that free will."

 

Just then, the sound of the bathroom door opening can be heard.  "Shhh....he's coming out,"  Jasmine says.  

 

Dylan comes out of the bathroom.  "Jasmine," he says.  

 

"Hi, Dylan.  Cory said that you were sick earlier."

 

"Ummm, yeah, I was.  I need to clean it up,"  Dylan says.

 

"Don't worry about it, I already did,"  says Cory.

 

"Thanks,"  Dylan says, walking over and taking a seat on the bed.  His hand begins to tremble badly.

 

"Dylan, I have something for you,"  Jasmine says.  She reaches into the bag she is carrying and pulls out a bottle of vodka.  Cory watches in disgust as his sister hands the bottle to Dylan, who quickly takes it from her hand as if his very life depended on it.  

 

"Th.....thank you,"  Dylan says, his voice shaking.  He opens the bottle and takes a sip.  

 

"You're welcome,"  Jasmine says with a smile.  "Cory, I'll stay with Dylan for a while if you'd like to go out or something.  Maybe go and see Daniel or something."

 

Cory looks at her.  "Yeah, sure,"  he says, a tone of disgust in his voice.  He walks to the table and picks up his car keys, then he walks back over to his sister.  He looks at Dylan as he continues to take sip after sip of the vodka.  Cory is filled with guilt over watching his sister use Dylan and destroy his life.  "Jasmine, this is wrong,"  he whispers to her.  "This is SO wrong what you're doing to him."

 

Jasmine looks at her brother.  "Bye, Cory,"  she says.  "I'm sure you have other things to do this evening."

 John Ross is working at his desk at Ewing Oil as sunset begins to close in on the city of Dallas.  A knock comes at his door.  "Come in,"  he says.

 

Clay walks into the office.  "Here are those contracts,"  he says, laying them on John Ross's desk.

 

"Thank you,"  John Ross says, a tone of slight rudeness in his voice as he looks at the papers on his desk.  

 

"Hey, I wonder what Uncle Bobby wants to see us about this evening,"  Clay says.

 "John Ross, Clay, come in and have a seat,"  Bobby says.

 

"What's this mysterious meetin' all about, Uncle Bobby?"  John Ross asks, taking a seat at the table.  "And Christopher?  What are you doin' here?  You haven't taken an active role in Ewing Oil in ages."

 

"My Dad asked me to be here."

 

"That's right, I asked everyone who owns a piece of Ewing Oil to be here,"  says Bobby.

 

"Then why the hell is Clay here?"  John Ross asks.  "He doesn't own a piece of this comp'ny."

 

"I asked Clay to be here because this concerns him, too,"  replies Bobby.  

 

"Sounds serious."

 

"Well, it is,"  Bobby says.  "Sue Ellen and Christopher have already been informed of my decision, so now I'm informing the two of you.  As you both know, for quite some time now, for the better part of this past year, I have been president of Ewing Oil in name only.  I haven't played an active role in the day to day operations since my heart attack.  So, I've decided that it's time for me to step down.........to officially retire as president of Ewing Oil.  And that means that a successor has to be named.  Both Sue Ellen and Christopher have made it clear that they have no interest in stepping in as permanent president."

 

"Ummm, Uncle Bobby, excuse me, HELLO,"  John Ross says.  "Ever since you have been out of the office, I've been actin' president."

 

"Yes, John Ross, and you've been doing a wonderful job."

 

"Then what's the problem?  Why this big thing about namin' a successor?  I'll be happy to continue on as president on a permanent basis.  Nothin' has to change."

 

"John Ross, it's not quite that simple,"  Bobby says.  "Yes, it's true that you have been doing a good job this past year as president."

 

"Then WHAT is the problem?"  John Ross asks.  "Unless..........unless you still don't trust me to run this comp'ny without you lookin' over my shoulder, approvin' every deal I make."

 

"John Ross, we;re talking about the future of Ewing Oil......"

 

"Yeah, a future that you obviously don't trust in my hands!"  John Ross angrily says as he stands from his seat.

 

"Bobby, this is ridiculous,"  Sue Ellen says.  "You're being very unfair to John Ross.  He's more than proven himself."

 

"So who the hell's gonna be your successor?"  John Ross asks.  

 

"I haven't decided yet, John Ross, so calm down.  You still could be my successor."

 

"I'm confused here,"  says Clay.  "If you all own a share in the company, why not just vote on who will be the next president?"

 

"I think that should be obviously, SHERLOCK,"  John Ross says sarcastically.  "There are four of us that own a piece of Ewing Oil.  Mama and myself are naturally gonna vote for me, and Uncle Bobby and Christopher would end up votin' for someone else."

 

"Clay, when it ended up just being the four of us, we added a clause to the company charter that stated, unless we have an odd number of share holders, one to break the tie, that the successor would have to be named by the current president, unless he, or she, is incapacitated.  And John Ross, why do you naturally assume that we'd vote against you?"  Bobby asks.

 

"Because that's the way it's always been, for as long as we've all been in business together.  It's you and Christopher against my Mama and me, every damned time!"

 

"Just calm down and listen for a minute!"  Bobby says, losing patience with his nephew.  "I have two people in mind to succeed me.........you, John Ross..........and Clay."

 

"Me?"  Asks a surprised Clay.  

 

"This is ridiculous,"  John Ross angrily says.  "He doesn't even own a piece of Ewing Oil, and you're thinkin' of namin' HIM your successor?"

 

"That's one reason why we're here,"  Bobby says.  "Christopher?"

 

"As my Dad said, I have no interest in assuming the reigns as president, and in fact, I want out of the company all together.  I plan to run Southfork alongside Lucas.  So, since I want out, I wanna sell my shares of Ewing Oil to Clay, at a fair price."

 

"Christopher, I......I don't know what to say."

 

"Just say you'll take me up on my offer."

 

"Yes, of course,"  Clay says with a smile.

 

"Okay, so what about this successor thing?"  John Ross asks.

 

"I'm gettin' to that,"  Bobby replies.  "What I want more than anything is for the two of you to work together here at this company, to make Ewing Oil as big and as successful as it was when my Daddy was running.  This company is your legacy.......BOTH of you, as Jock Ewing's grandson and great- grandson.  But, unfortunately, there can be only one president in the long term.  As soon as Christopher's shares are transferred to Clay, I'm going to give the two of you a period of three months.  During that time, John Ross, you and Clay will act as co-presidents of Ewing Oil.  The company's assets will be divided equally between the two of you, and at the end of that three months, whoever has brought in the most profitable deals, and the larger number of deals.........will become Ewing Oil's next president, and the other will be vice-president."

 "A CONTEST?"  Sue Ellen asks.  "Oh my God, Bobby, have your lost your mind?  Your father did the same thing with you and J.R. and it almost tore this family apart.  That contest for control of Ewing Oil nearly destroyed all of our lives.  Do you wanna see that happen again?"

 

"It's not the same thing, Sue Ellen,"  Bobby says.  "Unlike Daddy, I'll be here to oversee this contest myself, every step of the way.  And, unlike Daddy, I'm setting down some ground rules.  This contest will be conducted honestly.  There'll be nothing done in this contest that's illegal or underhanded.  Everything will be above board and out in the open, all the way.  Now, do you both agree?"

 

"I agree,"  says Clay.  

 

"John Ross?"  Bobby asks.

 

"And why should I agree to this crap?"  John Ross angrily asks.  "I've been here every day, workin' my tail off for this company, and this is the thanks I get?  I have to compete to keep my job?  And on top top that, I have to compete with someone who's not even a Ewing by name, but a Beaumont?"

 

"Clay is James's son,"  Bobby says.  "He's as much a Ewing as anyone in this room.  John Ross, I want you to continue on here, whether as president or vice-president.  Now you have matured a lot in the last couple of years.  You haven't made any rash decisions in a while, and you've done a good job running Ewing Oil.  But for the job pf permanent president, I need to be absolutely sure to make the right decision."

 

John Ross looks at his uncle for a few seconds, then at Clay.  He nods.  "Alright.  Alright, I'll agree to this little game of yours.  And I intend to win.  Clay, you'd better be ready for one hell of a fight, because Ewing Oil is MINE.  It's my birthright, and I'll be damned if I'll let some snot nosed outsider take it away from me."  John Ross turns his gazed back to Bobby.  "You wanted a contest that's legal and above board.  Fine, that's what you'll get.  But I wanna make one thing clear........I fight to WIN, and I fight hard."  John Ross immediately storms out of the office.  

 

Sue Ellen starts to follow her son out of the room, but she pauses at the door and turns back to Bobby.  "How could you do this?  You've opened up a can of worms, and I hope to God you're prepared to deal with the consequences.  You hurt my son very much, Bobby, and you hurt me.  And for that, I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive you."  Sue Ellen also storms out of the office, leaving Bobby, Christopher, and Clay standing in the conference room, and Bobby wondering if he had indeed made the right decision!

 

END OF EPISODE 235....