Yet Another Week with Galen & Company Make Us Suddenly Empathize with the NINA Signs of 19th Century Boston: Galen calls Jax to discuss the terms of the club's "betrayal" and makes an offer the club is encouraged not to refuse: Clay takes over the Real IRA's gun business and "he's none of the club's concern." But the club has to make sure that all buyers are on board and they can't take a cut of any profits. Why Jax doesn't just record the call and cut a deal with the ATF is beyond me, but he agrees to the deal instead and agrees to cut Connor and the rest of the Irish loose. Upon hearing that Connor's still alive, the three old Kings give Galan a look that suggests he not buy a 2014 calendar, as he won't be needing it.
The Caper of the Week: En route to the Gathering of the SAMs (see below), SAMCRO gets pulled over in the ironically-named Eden – it's a miracle they can even ride on those roads, on account of all the potholes created by the writers slamming down anvils labeled "IT'S IRONY, Y'ALL" – and the cops hassle the guys. They're pulled over for wearing cuts, then harassed about possibly having stolen bikes, despite how old and modded their rides are, and after Juice mouths off, there's a brief melee, Tig screams about how much he loves Smokey and the Bandit (for real) and to make a long story short: Juice ends up on a stolen police bike, he executes a flying leap off the bike and into the van Rat is driving, and the police vehicle crashes over the now-empty bike. I believe Jax speaks for all of us with his exclamation: "HOLY SHIT."
The Gathering of the SAMs: All the different Sons of Anarchy chapters show up in the middle of nowhere for the biker equivalent of an annual meeting. Jax gives a speech about how Opie died to protect the club and so "there's two things you can do when that happens. You can run from the pain, or you can allow it to burn into your heart, to leave its mark, a constant reminder of what brought us all here." It's obvious which Jax chose. He announces that the club's at a crossroads, and he's taking them down the road called, "We find exploiting women to be far less morally problematic than selling guns." Everyone is thrilled by this. Mostly because everyone in the room is male and can likely expect free tail on the side.
The Part of the Episode Where I was Glad to be Proven Wrong: So, remember how I was all, "Oh, Bobby's running around recruiting for a nomad charter and then he'll come back and blah de Hamlet reference to Fortinbras blah blah blah?" I was wrong! Apparently, Bobby Elvis has been recruiting to have people patch into SAMCRO. He explains, "I handpicked these guys because they're loyal, they're smart, they've got families, they're hard-working and their priorities are in the right place. That's exactly what this charter needs. This ain't no kind of power grab and I got no interest in the gavel or a new patch. It's because I love this club. And I love you." Oh, hugs all around. Jax can stop sulking now.
And Now, For the Ladies: Jax asks Gemma to get a message to Clay, precipitating a mini-breakdown, but she rallies in time to notice that Unser and Tara are getting chummy. Then she rallies further, passing on the info about the Irish stunt to Clay and urging him to take Galen's deal, then playing Clay's guilt to get him to try and clear Nero. Clay promptly tells Gemma about how Toric had Otto starting his day with a round of rape and had been threatening the same for Clay, and Gemma totters into Roosevelt's office with the story, which she delivers to Roosevelt and the conveniently-present DA Patterson.
Once Gemma leaves, Roosevelt points out, "Toric was on your payroll. If anyone finds out that he set up [Nero], that's going to look like the call of a desperate boss pressing for leverage. You might want to get in front of that." Cue everyone crowding into Toric's motel room and Patterson being really displeased by the signs that Toric was up to monkeyshines. Cut to Roosevelt being really displeased by Patterson planning on charging Nero anyway, just to make everyone in SAMCRO sweat a little.
Strong Enough For a Man, but Made For an Old Lady: Speaking of people who are in a perpetual state of panic clamminess … The morning after the explosion, Tara tells Unser, "I don't know what's more frightening: the violence getting worse or my ability to take it all in stride. I see how living this way can make you –"
"Gemma," Unser finishes. And with that insight, Tara lets him in on her plan: She's filing for divorce and asking for 100% custody of the boys. If she goes to jail, she wants the boys to go to Wendy. Unser takes in how Tara's coaxing Wendy into helping her and observes, "You're spinning a lot of plates, sweetheart."
When Tara calls Jax later, the first thing he does is ask about the baby and say, "You know this one's a girl, right? I got a feeling … She's going to be strong and beautiful like her mom." Or a total sham, like your marriage!
Patterson then meets with Tara and Lowen: "Full immunity for the proof of the gun running. It's the only offer you'll get." Once Patterson's out the door, Lowen urges Tara to think about the offer and Tara turns her down flat. We'll see how that holds up, because Patterson's just decided to move Tara's trial up by three weeks.
VENUS IS BACK! And Gemma mothers her in a very sweet way, all the while with an expression like, "My crazy life!" I don't know whether Venus returned because Walton Goggins got bored or whether her story about how Nero took her in is meant to telegraph to Gemma that Nero really is one of the good guys, but whatever. It was fun to see Venus again.
It's time to revive the Quote of the Week. This week, we get a little meta … "I know everyone in this town looked the other way on how you guys earned. You guys kept it small. Unser, Clay – they made it work. It's not working anymore. Over the last few years, everything that SAMCRO does has come back to haunt them." – Roosevelt to Jax, as they check out the smoking ruins of the clubhouse.
Before we launch into the recap, an apology. Due to circumstances I could not have foreseen – i.e. a preschooler with a stomach virus that kept rebounding over one hellish week – and the fact that this was another marathon episode, this recap went way over deadline. I am very sorry for the delay and promise it won't happen again.
We open with a long, doleful, silent sequence in which Jax and Chibs wander through the ruins of their clubhouse. Eventually, Jax sinks to his knees with his head in his hands. When he looks up, he tells Chibs, "I did this." Yes, Jackie Boy, this is pretty much on you. Chibs' refusal to say anything pretty much confirms it. All he does is find the gavel and hand it over to Jax as a reminder of what responsibilities the president still has. Then he says, "We're going to fix this, brother. You hear me?"
First step, managing Roosevelt, who is no dummy and knows explosives when he smells their detritus. Jax tries to play nice: "I can't tell you who but I can tell you why. I'm trying to end a relationship." Roosevelt deadpans, "Oh. Then she's very pissed off." Chibs sighs, "Aye, she is." Roosevelt then gets a little meta on us all: "I know everyone in this town looked the other way on how the club earned. You guys kept it small and safe. Unser, Clay – they made it work. It's not working anymore. Over the last couple years, everything that SAMCRO does comes back to haunt them. And everybody knows that. Do you think anybody is going to come here to get their vehicle worked on anymore?" Jax is all, "LA LA LA LA I can't hear you! Also, have fun with my mom, who is currently the best mom in the world because she's hassling you all instead of laying heavy emotional trips on me and what I owe the club."
Roosevelt's eye roll is eloquent. He twists the knife one more time: "I know this was IRA. Is there something else I should know?" "I'm trying to put an end to this shit. I'm trying to put us on the right side of things, but it's going to take a minute," Jax offers. Roosevelt replies, "I'm afraid your minute might have run out in that classroom last week." Wow, this show moves at a glacial pace. I feel like more than week should have elapsed, what with the body count and explosions and meetings and whatnot. How is anyone in SAMCRO still standing? Are they all on vitamin B drips to give themselves extra energy?
Jax sighs and says, "Look, I know you're a good cop. We've done a few rounds together, but I've never tried to buy you and I'm not asking you to look the other way. I'm trying to be straight with you here. If you press the club on this, if you crawl up our ass right now, it's not gonna help either one of us or this town. I'm sorry that this happened." Chibs jumped in with, "We're gonna make sure none of this shit ever happens again." Roosevelt says, not unkindly, "I can tell you guys really believe that. I'm just not sure that I do."
Cut to Gemma being a force of nature at the nearest sheriffs' station, thus reminding us all that truly, being a public servant sucks because you have to deal with the public. Inside his cell, Nero's all, "Oh, mama, no, mama, please, I gotta – oh. Well. My five meals are going to have 'cop spit' as a condiment. THANKS, BABY. Note to self: Answer question 'Why am I so attracted to insane women?'" Then Gemma throws a cop across the room like some sort of freakin' superstrong vampire, and why another five cops don't immediately taser her into submission makes me think that maybe, these guys deserve to have Gemma enlivening their workdays if they can't handle a clear-cut case of assaulting an officer of the law. They merely cuff her before letting her go talk to Nero! So she gets what she wants anyway! I fully expect that mural reading "The Redwoods of San Joaquin" to be edited to "San Joaquin County: Our law enforcement caves on everything."
Gemma turns to face Nero and he deadpans, with only the tiniest smirk, "How's it goin'?" Oh, Jimmy Smits, you are delightful. And you play well with others. Gemma says with studied calm: Just thought I'd come by and say hi. Hi." Nero gently steers her over to the bench, grasps her neck (it's more of a caress) and says sweetly, "What am I going to do with you?" It's a weirdly sweet moment and Gemma responds well to it. They small-talk about the whole clubhouse-go-boom thing and Gemma says, "I don't want you to go away … I mean go away from me. I know you want to get away from the MC. And after last night, I'm sure you're feeling the crush of that. I want to be with you, Nero. I do. But I need to be there for my family. I want to do both. I need to figure out how. I need time." Nero listens to this and seems secretly grateful that soon, he'll be in the cozy, generally non-explodey confines of a cell and he and Gemma's relationship can move into its Heloise-and-Abelard stage.
Meanwhile, since Gemma won't be using her house for a while, the club has moved in. Tara is hanging out with the boys in Jax's old room and all the bikers are hanging around the capacious dining room table.
Jax visits with his family. Amazingly, neither of the boys are hypersensitive messes melting down because they don't like the configuration of air molecules in the room. But who cares? I'm looking at the bedroom our Jax was a boy in. Not a lot of books, but the toys are in surprisingly good condition. I say "surprising," because Jax strikes me as the kind of kid who either was a pyromaniac with a subtle grasp of the scientific method or he knew one. (SIDEBAR: One of the unique pleasures of my early adult life was visiting my beaux boyhood rooms. You can tell a lot about who someone's parents think he is based on how they've kept or changed his room after he moved out. I highly recommend this kind of snooping to anyone planning on getting serious about anyone else.)
Anyway, Tara is about as testy as you'd expect from any woman who's narrowly escaped being blown into Calaveras County, then forced to wrangle an overtired toddler and an overtired baby for the 12 hours. Where is that pack of croweaters-cum-babysitters when you need them? Jax facepalms, because he has to deliver the news that he's about to bug out of town on club business. "We're heading out to Chester, sitting down with the Northwest, letting them know why this happened." Tara shrugs, "Okay. I'm going to go to St. Why Do They Even Let Me In The Door? And get an ultrasound." Jax immediately asks if anything's wrong and Tara plays the stressed-incubator-in-the-first-trimester card. Jax does not take this time to point out that all across America, 15-year-olds are having crazier nights than Tara just did, then maintaining denial about their pregnancies right up to the moment they're crowning during prom pictures, and that as a medical professional, Tara should already know this.
(Then again, Tara has probably intuited that since Jax was really checked out and/or incarcerated for the duration of Wendy's pregnancy and hers, his pregnancy-related knowledge hovers somewhere between "superstitious peasant in Chartres, France, c.1460" and "neurasthenic maiden aunt in London, c. 1880." I doubt these guys are sitting around comparing notes on the moments their children came into the world. And now I'm imagining some nurse giving Bobby Elvis the up-and-down and sighing, "Yeah, we're just going to put you in a giant plastic bubble and poke some holes for air.")
Anyway, now that Jax has been reminded that work-life balance is a bitch, he's taking a call from the Irish at the improvised table. It's the Irish. Jax makes a point of saying, "We're all here." Because the Irish are genuinely annoying and I feel like giving them attention only encourages Kurt Sutter to keep writing scenes with them, let's skip the exact dialogue and get the Recapper Notes on this whole sordid discussion: Galen calls Jax to discuss the terms of the club's "betrayal" and makes an offer the club is encouraged not to refuse: Clay takes over the Real IRA's gun business and "he's none of the club's concern." But the club has to make sure that all buyers are on board and they can't take a cut of any profits. Why Jax doesn't just record the call and cut a deal with the ATF is beyond me, but he agrees to the deal instead and agrees to cut Connor and the rest of the Irish loose. Upon hearing that Connor's still alive, the three old Kings give Galan a look that suggests he not buy a 2014 calendar, as he won't be needing it.
Okay, that's over. Chibs suggests they hang on to Connor for a few more days to make sure this "peace shit" is real. Everyone concurs. The Tacoma charter will keep an eye on the Irish up at the barn. Tig then does a rundown of the charters that will be rolling up to Chester for this summit: Rogue River, Indian Hills, Moab, Eureka, Tacoma. I have to say, I sometimes feel like this show can't decide if SAMCRO is this scrappy little club scrabbling to grab tiny pieces of California's off-the-books economy or if it's really the nerve center of a vast and powerful gang. That there are this many northwestern chapters and no apparent need to explain why Reno, Las Vegas and SAMTAZ don't need to know really suggests a huge club. But why are they so strapped for members at the original charter?
Everyone prepares for the ride to Chester. Everyone's guns are deposited into an Igloo cooler which Rat will convey in the SAMCRO van, and the grown-ups get to ride their bikes. Before they can take off, the sheriff's department drops off Gemma because I guess assaulting an officer of the law doesn't merit any consequences anymore. I look forward to hearing back from you all after you've tested this supposition in real life.
The real point to having Gemma on the outside is so we could see the scene where she reels dramatically after Jax asks her to take another meeting at the jailhouse and tell Clay to take the deal the Irish are offering. "Another conjugal?" Gemma asks, and Jax says dismissively, "Nah, you don't need privacy for this message." When he hugs Gemma, she breaks down for a moment, but he takes it as the result of the evening's events and nothing deeper. It is interesting to see how this episode is making a point of Jax's utter inability to read the women in his life. I'm not expecting him to pull back and exclaim, "Why, Mother! Your reaction suggests that you're flashing back to trauma in your life! Whatever can we do about this?" It's just … this is a guy who only reads people when it's convenient for him to do so, and he deems the women in his life less convenient than the men.
Patterson sweeps into the sheriffs' office like the wrath of God and inquires as to what happened the night before. Roosevelt gives her an understated recap and Patterson replies, "IRA. They love to blow shit up." And this more or less demonstrates why terrorism is never really successful. Because nobody says, "IRA. They have many strong feelings about regaining political sovereignty over northern Ireland and uniting the island as an independent nation!" Anyway, Patterson's really not here for the IRA, but for Nero. Roosevelt draws her into his office to repeat his conviction that Nero's been set up, but Patterson dismisses him, "As much as I appreciate a good hunch, I'm going to stick to the concrete scientific evidence for now." Then she kicks him out of his office to make some calls.
Tara drops off the boys at the hospital daycare and walks down the corridor with Unser. He asks if she's doing okay and she says, "I guess. I don't know what's more frightening – the violence getting worse or my ability to simply take it in stride. I can see how living with this can make you –" "Gemma," Unser replies. Because even after all she and Clay have done, he still loves her. Then he asks if Tara's given any more thought to his offer. Tara says she has, but she can't tell him everything. "Why not start with what you can?" the ex-cop replies. Tara says, "If I do have to go to jail, I am not letting my boys stay in Charming." Unser points out, "Jax is their dad." "I'm filing for divorce, asking for full custody," Tara says. Unser asks who gets the boys then. Cue Wendy's convenient arrival. And Unser reluctantly agrees to help.
As Wendy rushes off to see Abel ("I told him his friend Wendy was coming back to see him," Tara had said), Unser comments, "You're spinning a lot of plates there, sweetheart." Tara stares ahead bleakly as she says, "Yeah."
As the SAMCRO boys roar through the high desert hellscape known as Eden, -- "the Garden Paradise of Butte County" – they are immediately flagged by the local police. And to think, the boys weren't even doing anything dicey, like swerving to avoid the many potholes in the road from anvils reading "The name of this town is ironic!" Rat sees the motorcycle cops go zipping by and carefully drops back so it's not evident he's riding support.
Once the club pulls over, the two cops glide over on the gentle parabola of their smirks and the mouthy one is all, "Had a little trouble catching up to you. The speed limit's 55 around here." Jax is properly apologetic, but then the cop warms to his role as This Episode's Douchebag saying, "I don't know what the laws are in Charming, but here in Eden, wearing those gang colors? That's illegal." "We're not a gang. We're a club," says Happy, who is possible the least club-looking mofo in the bunch. In any event, this seems like a fraudulent law because unless SAMCRO stops in downtown Eden to eat at the local Apple Café, they're not really in Eden. They're passing through Eden.
Alas, these officers are both prepositionally challenged and ethically challenged, claiming that modifications on the boys' bikes surely suggest that they're riding motorcycles cobbled together with parts that just happened to go missing in the past week. "I'm going to do you a solid. I'm going to have the bikes picked up, run the serials for anything aftermarket, make sure nobody sold you any stolen parts," says the mouthy cop. Jax says, "You made your point, man. We won't come through Eden again. We gotta family thing we really need to get to." Mouthy Cop smirks, "I feel you, pres. I really do. But I have a job to do."
"And what job is that?" asks Juice, proving that the only reason he's lived this long without functional survival instincts is to act as a handy reminder/horrible warning to the others. Cut to Tig looking around all, "Is this a peyote nightmare? Is anyone else seeing this?" Chibs facepalms and the thought bubble reading, "REALLY?" can be seen hovering over Jax's head.
Mouthy Cop does not deign to answer the question. Instead he looks at Juice's scalp tattoos and asks, "Is that some kind of tribal shit? Are you supposed to be a warrior, son?" Juice stands up – he's taller than the cop – and says, "No. I'm just a guy who knows a coward when I see one." Cue Jax frantically diving over to apologize up and down for Juice. Mouthy Cop's partner tries to defuse the situation by pointing out that dispatch wants them at another exit per the CHP's request. So they'll have to cut this session short. "Flatbed's on the way," he says.
The SAMCRO boys erupt in protest. Mouthy Cop grins, "You fellas, you're all about the brotherhood, right? Loyalty? That kind of shit?" CLINK! Juice is cuffed to his bike. Chibs surges forward, Sidekick Cop raises his gun, and Jax says, "Everything's cool," as if repeating it enough times will make it so. Mouthy Cop hands over the card for the impound lot and is all, "We gotta motor!" then smirks one final time: "We know you wouldn't desert a brother, would you?" as he shoots out Juice's wheels.
Cue Juice losing his mind on the cop and knocking him out with an elbow. When Sidekick rushes into the fray, that's when Happy strikes, silent and swift as a snake. (Actually, there are probably black mambas who are all, "Take notes. This guy is lethal.") While Jax and Chibs are shouting, "Enough, Juice, enough!" Happy has got Sidekick Cop with his own service piece to the head and Tig has scooped up Mouthy Cop's gun. Juice gets in one more punch and then it's time for the grown-ups to talk.
Mouthy Cop shouts, "You better think twice! Assaulting a cop gets you killed in this town!" That he's shouting it as Chibs handcuffs him to Juice's bike makes it all the more comic. "We know who you are!" shouts Sidekick Cop. "We know a scam when we see one!" Jax replies, all traces of conciliation gone. "That's right we do! I've seen Smokey and the Bandit a thousand times! Love that movie!" Tig helpfully adds. (I should not enjoy a serial murderer with poor impulse control as much as I do.) As Mouthy Cop goes to make another threat, Juice knocks him out cold and Jax is all, "???????" A formerly puppyish goofball has turned volatile and violent after a harrowing month in which he was pressured to betray a father figure, beaten from the premiere into the middle of episode 2 by another, and then told to smother a bereaved mother? 'Tis a puzzlement why he's acting out!
So another cop vehicle is pulling up, and the SAMCRO boys make their escape via motorcycle – Juice stealing one of cop's cycles – and then we have a bike chase that is equal parts entertaining and physics-defying. In the middle of the chase, Juice stalls the cop vehicle by persistently weaving in front of it. Rat, who has been waiting on the side of the road, sees the traveling circus roll by. He quickly opens the van's side door, then gets on the road. Within minutes, Juice has managed to pull even with Rat, then makes a FLYING LEAP from the bike into the van. Because apparently he's now Nightwing or something. (Debate amongst yourselves who the Batman of the Justice League of SAMCRO is.) The police cruiser crashes into the now riderless cop vehicle, and the SUV rolls down a hill, presumably into a ravine filled with the eight million forms the cops are going to have to fill out to explain how their afternoon went.
Jax speaks for us all: "HOLY SHIT!"
Sidebar: Anyone think they're setting up Rat as someone who is a hell of a lot smarter than anyone seems to realize? We know he can read a room, per the initial conversation with the Nazis ("We hate deep…") and he's cool in a crisis (taking the neo-Nazi hostage), and here he's quickly figured out a way to bail out Juice and simultaneously inconvenience the police. Why are we getting so many clues that Rat is really smart? Is it because the writers got bored with prospects/young members who seemed a tad dozy? Or is there more to Rat that just being a prospect?
So everyone rolls into the Three Point Lodge in scenic Chester, California. And not to make this recap all about me, but I have actually eaten lunch in Chester, California -- on a break during a camping trip up to Lassen Volcanic National Park -- at a bowling alley decorated with the stuffed and mounted heads of many animals that called Plumas County home until the abrupt, lead-assisted end of their lives. I had the best burger of my life and it was served by a Gemma Morrow doppelganger who doted tirelessly on my then-baby daughter. So what I'm saying is, if these bikers leave Chester hungry, they have nobody to blame but themselves.
Juice gets out of the van and tells the others that he's confirmed through police chatter that the shady cops have elected to let the incident stop with them: There is no APB out for the SAMCRO boys. Tig helpfully exposits that lots of stolen parts come from Butte and Plumas counties, so the cops were just feeding the pipeline. Chibs asks, "So what do you want to do with our friends in Eden?" Jax flips the card and deadpans, "Get our property back."
Then Jury comes down to meet them and we commence a round of manly hugging and gossiping, because beneath the fug of felony convictions and testosterone, these guys are basically ninth grade girls. Bobby comes over to Jax for a frenemy hug, then asks if they can talk privately at some point. Jax takes in the sight of Bobby and his three back-up bikers, remembers that it only takes four guys to make a nomad charter, and issues a chilly RSVP. As Jax huffs off, Tig, Chibs and Happy pounce on Bobby in ecstasy.
Kudos to the lighting director, because in contrast to the liquid gold tones that soaked the sunlit Three Point Lodge scene, the light in the prison's visitation room is an inert, chilly blue. Gemma and Clay meet for their visit, and Gemma interrupts Clay's "vengeance shall be mine" monologue to tell him the Irish blew up the clubhouse. Clay reacts predictably -- "Jesus Christ!" -- then asks if everybody is "whole." They are, and Gemma moves on to the point: Clay's to take the Irish offer and get inside that circle. Then she leverages his guilt about the day's goings-on to get information on Toric that she could bring back to Roosevelt in an effort to exonerate Nero. That Clay is all too aware of how he's helping Gemma's new squeeze is the cherry on top of this particular bile sundae.
And now, the hairy biker equivalent of a staff meeting. Since Jax does not do PowerPoint, he has to monologue. True to form, he follows the corporate script that his predecessor screwed up, but good times are ahead! Per Jax: "I'm certain you have questions. And doubts. That's what this meeting is for. I know every charter is independent. You run them as you want. But I also know the things we do in Redwood, especially here in the northwest, impact your local relationships and affect the way you earn. Some of you knew my old man. Some just knew his legacy. It's no secret that he was conflicted at the end. He questioned every decision he ever made about the club, about his family. That fear, that doubt – it ruined him, made him vulnerable. I'm here to tell you that I'm not following that path. The choices that I make are not because I'm afraid, or because I have any doubts about this club. I watched my best friend get his head caved in to protect what we have here. We've all watched brothers die in the service of this club. There's two things you can do when that happens. You can run from the pain, bail. Or you can allow it to burn into your heart, to leave its mark, a constant reminder of the love that brought us all here. Sons of Anarchy – it's at a crossroads. Our clubhouse blowing up last night, that's a sign of the times, the end result of a bloody relationship with the IRA. It would be easy to sit here and blame our mistakes on my predecessor, but that won't change shit. We don't need blame. What we need, boys, is change."
And with that, I beg of someone, anyone, to please make a Shephard Fairey-style poster of Jax looking all strong-jawed and idealistic with the slogan "CHANGE."
So what does Jax's idea of change entail? He announces that the club's at a crossroads, and he's taking them down the road called, "We find exploiting women to be far less morally problematic than selling guns." Everyone is thrilled by this. Mostly because everyone in the room is male and can likely expect free tail on the side. "My charter will do everything it can to help you move in a legitimate direction. A direction that keeps you out of jail, that keeps us whole, that keeps us alive." Unsurprisingly, the men at the table are all in favor of anything that keeps them alive and not married to a three-strikes offender named Big Moe.
Gemma's back to terrorize the police station, and why an entire bullpen full of armed officers does not think to take her down with nonlethal force is beyond me. She storms into Roosevelt's office and beholds Patterson in her full glory: "Who are you?" Patterson draws herself up and huffs, "My question also." Oh, good, we're all in time for this week's installment of "Gemma Has Issues With Career Ladies." Roosevelt skids in and makes the awkward introduction: Gemma, meet the DA prosecuting Nero; Patterson, meet Nero's self-identified "old lady." (Wow, that was fast. Not that there were Victorian Codes of Mourning dictating the waiting period between old lady stints, but still … hasn't anyone ever asked Gemma if she might consider casually dating for a while?)
Gemma tells Patterson and Roosevelt everything Clay told her, namely that Toric was nuttier than squirrel poop in October, had audibly dedicated himself to laying waste unto SAMCRO and dancing to the lamentations of its members, and had arranged for Otto's regular rape schedule and threatened to do likewise to Clay. "That's why Otto killed Toric," says Gemma, delivering a motive that spells double bad news for Patterson as it paints her investigator in the lunatic light he so rightly deserves and discredits the argument that Otto made a hit on Toric in retaliation for Tara's legal troubles. Gemma also backs up Nero's alibi for the night of the murder. Gemma whispers fervently, "I know you want to find who put the gun in that boy's hand. It wasn't Nero." No, it was Nero's cousin Arcadio. Which … still a little awkward for our Mr. Padilla. Patterson cuts through Gemma's stirring declamations of innocence with an acid, "Then who was it?" Because Gemma will NEVER roll on her son, she flees.
Roosevelt levels with Patterson: "Toric was on your payroll. If anyone finds out that he set up [Nero], that's going to look like the call of a desperate boss pressing for leverage. You might want to get in front of that." Before he can get out of the room, Patterson says, "Let's check his room."
Cut to the motel manager expositing that Toric had paid for a month in advance and barred the maid service from entering. He and deputy Cane enter the room – noses wrinkling at the smell of bleach – and begin poking through everything, from cases full of weapons to bags full of drugs. Roosevelt finds the gun with silencer used to kill Erin, then notices something funny about the rug. He and Cane peel it up and find … bullet holes. Patterson, who has just entered, curses and orders CSU to arrive and work the crime scene. Roosevelt reminds her, "Linoleum is porous. We should be able to pull DNA. Now I know that you want to find leverage to tie Nero and the Sons to your school shooting, but I'm sorry, ma'am. He did not kill Erin Byrne." (I'm sorry, but every time any character says that poor dead woman's full name, I hear Eric Byrnes instead. This is what being an Oakland A's fan does to you.) Although Patterson is visibly fuming over the perfidy of forensic science, she coolly says, "We won't know until we get the DNA." Then she spins on her heel and departs while Roosevelt objects to holding an innocent man for the many days it will take to get the DNA results. Patterson stops to say, "All we know now is that Toric took a lot of medication, he liked to live germ-free and he discharged a weapon. Padilla gets processed. Murder charge sticks." Ladies and gentlemen, your public servant dedicated to upholding the principle of innocent until proven guilty, Tyne Patterson!
Back at the lodge, bikers are scattering – I hope for their sakes to scarf down the hamburgers at the bowling alley – and Jax apprehends Juice, flinging an arm around him and inquiring, "You mind telling me what the hell that was today?" Juice diffidently says, "I was kind of just doing it before I realized what was going on." Jax tells him, "You don't have anything to prove, Juice. We're good." Juice says, "Yeah? I'm not sure Chibs feels the same way." Jax says, "Ah. I'm guessing he'll be healed by the time your face is. No more cowboy shit." Then, before he can seize the opportunity to slip into the paternal role Juice so clearly craves and expects, his phone rings. But I guess the takeaway is that Juice is no longer on super-secret probation. Yay?
It's Tara on the phone. Jax immediately asks how the baby is, and Tara – who is sitting in the hospital cafeteria – says the ultrasound was fine. Jax says fervently, "Oh, thank God," then follows up with an affectionate, "You know this one's a girl, right?" Cut to Tara looking supremely uncomfortable: "Why do you say that?" Jax says, "I just got a feeling. She's going to be strong and beautiful like her mom." Or based entirely upon fiction, like your marriage! Tara can only mumble, "Maybe." As Jax asks about Abel, we see that he's playing with Wendy. Hands up if you think that's one genie that Tara won't be able to stuff back in the bottle after she finishes whatever she's planning. Jax then tells her what a nice day he's had at work. Then the two of them have to go. Jax says, "I love you" and Tara answers, "You too," which should be a big screaming sign that all is not well. Unless Tara's always emotionally withdrawn, which might actually make sense for the character and be in keeping for a man who grew up with a mother who withholds approval on a dime.
Anyway, Tara's off the phone because Lowen just showed up with the news that Patterson's making an offer, so they had best skedaddle to Tara's office in order to take the meeting.
Bobby finally shuffles over to Jax, looking for all the world like a well-accessorized yeti, and compliments on his bold mission statement for the Sons. Jax ungraciously thanks him, then snots, "I see you posse'd up. That your nomad crew?" Bobby says wryly, "I guess that's the buzz around the charters. We gossip more than teenage girls." He slaps a wad of paper into Jax's chest and Jax asks, "That your transfer?" Bobby says, "Not mine. Quinn, Montez and West." Jax finally realizes what this is and asks, "You've been recruiting for SAMCRO?" Cue his smile, which completely changes his face.
Bobby explains, "I ripped that flash off because I didn't know how to help you that way anymore. I picked these guys because they're loyal, they're smart, they got families, they're hardworking –" My word, it sounds like a middle manager recruiting for IBM in the 1960s " -- and their priorities are in the right place. It's exactly what this charter needs. This ain't no kind of power grab, I got no interest in the gavel or a new patch. It's cause I love this club and I love you." Then there are many manly hugs and all is magically healed between Bobby and Jax.
Cut to Patterson talking with Tara as Lowen looks on. Patterson opens with, "Toric wanted vengeance. I want justice. The process to get to those things might feel the same, but the motivation is very different. For example, when you gave Otto Delaney the crucifix, I don't believe your motive was vengeance." Lowen's all, "HEY NOW" and demands the details for the offer. Patterson coos, "The doctor already knows my offer: a loving mother for a dangerous husband." Lowen's all, "!" and as she tells Patterson, "When you have something real, put it in writing -- Patterson turns to Tara and says, "You're not really going to jail for him? Leave your children –" "Don't answer that," Lowen bites, but Tara is all, Talk to the hand I keep re-injuring and says, "I love my husband. I know who he is and what he does." Patterson stands up and says, "Then you know it's not you who deserves to be in jail." Patterson makes her final offer and leaves: "Full immunity for proof of the gun running. It's the only offer you'll get." After she goes, Lowen gently suggests that Tara think about the offer and Tara says, "The betrayal of love has boundaries, ones that I have to live with. I don't need to think about an offer."
As Gemma ends her day at the Diosa Del Norte, she and Lyla make small talk about Nero in county and then Lyla explains, "A friend of Nero's came in looking for him, seemed pretty upset. I didn't know what to tell her. Said she wanted to wait so, I put her in his room." Gemma asks, "One of Nero's girls?" Lyla skedaddles on the nonanswer, "Ummmm … yes and no?"
Gemma heads into the room, and hears that Nero's would-be visitor is in the bathroom. She sees a large white leather handbag and before she gets to poke around, who should pop out of the bathroom but Venus Van Damme?
SIDEBAR: I love comics, and one of my all-time favorite series – indeed, the series I've called "The greatest love story I've read" – is an older Vertigo series called Preacher, written by Garth Ennis and drawn only as Steve Dillon knows how. I have long contended that if HBO ever adapted the series, Walton Goggins would have made a good Jesse Custer. (Yes, the preacher's initials are JC. GEDDIT?) But given how Steve Dillon draws women's jawlines? Walton Goggins could probably play any of the female parts too. Oh my gosh, you guys, I want to move to a parallel universe where Phil Hartman is alive to voice Zap Branigan on Futurama and Walton Goggins is in the epic HBO series Preacher.
Anyway, Venus says with tremulous politeness, "Oh! I'm so sorry, darlin', Nero isn't back yet –" and once Gemma stops gaping like a fish, she blurts, "Wow." Venus immediately rallies, "Oh. [glances down at the finest rack Science can devise] Yes. At the very least." The two settle into awkward silence.
We get a shot of SAMCRO riding home, their ranks swelled considerably.
Gemma comes back with a fresh tumbler of liquid poise for Venus, and after Venus flutters her thanks, she says, "I knew Nero had himself a new lady, I just didn't realize she was so substantial." Gemma is not quite sure how to take that and Venus drains the glass. Gemma immediately takes it and the two try to get over their respective attacks of the nerves. Venus says, "Darlin', I am so sorry to hear about Nero's incarceration. I know him. That man would never raise a hand to a woman." Gemma's aware of that, and asks Venus how she knows Nero, and we find that back when Venus was still legally young teen Vincent Moone, his mother Alice – renowned for her ability to take DNA samples with extraordinary oral deftness – went upriver for a stretch and Nero took in the gender-confused teen. Venus adds, "He never asked me for anything. He's my guardian angel." She gets thoughtful and seems a little brittle. Gemma quietly inquires as to Venus's fresh shiner and Venus replies, "I'm afraid I ran smack into a low-hanging branch on my gnarled family tree. I … I didn't quite know where to go, and before I knew it, I was … I was here." Something in Venus's downcast expression and the quiet dignity with which she's told her story tugs at Gemma and her face softens. She goes to sit to Venus on the bed and takes her hand. Then Gemma gently pushes Venus's hair back from her face and says, "You're safe. You are safe here." As Venus breaks down and sobs, Gemma holds the other woman and rocks her back and forth, pausing only to look up with an expression like How is this my life?
And this is why I think Gemma is both a great antihero and a figure of tremendous tragedy. There is something in her that really is meant to be a fierce mother to those who need it, and when she lets her empathy guide her, those are Gemma's best moments. It's just that she's also capable of identifying that need for mothering and coldly manipulating it, and that calculated play on one of our most primal fears – parental abandonment – is terrifying.
And now comes the part of the episode I can't say I cared for: SAMCRO goes to the Eden salvage yard to retrieve Juice's bike (in pieces), brutalizes the night manager into calling the crooked cops down – they are somehow done with paperwork and not in a hospital floating on a sea of morphine, as would normal humans be after rolling in a car a bunch of times – and after some manly SAMCRO posturing, they make the cops apologize to each biker individually.
I hope it's meant to indicate that the SAMCRO boys feel like things are finally breaking their way, and this prideful indulgence is meant to show that they're whistling on the way to their own dooms. Especially since this is contrasted with Patterson going into a hospital bathroom and finally pulling off that damned wig to show her own braids, then muttering, "Time to go hood sister." She then heads down the hall – looking far more regal and lovely than in that silly pageboy wig – and runs into Tara to deliver the news that she's moving up the trial by three weeks and personally prosecuting Tara.
And thus is comes to pass that while Jax is feeling as his life is finally moving onto a smoother road, Tara's feeling as though hers is getting rougher and rougher. I know I keep harping on this, but season six really feels like the funhouse-mirror version of season one, and I can't help but contrast how in season one, Opie and Donna faced their legal challenges by actually moving toward a united front and a loving acceptance of one another. And this season, Jax and Tara are doing the exact opposite. We all know how Opie and Donna ended up. Any takers on what happens to Tara and Jax in the end?
Lisa Schmeiser is an Oakland-adjacent reporter, editor and blogger. She regularly tweets here, blathers about comics here, and posts the oddball personal piece of writing here.