This is one of an anthology of short stories that take place in my world of Judicial Punishments. I aim to explore a variety of stories and characters whose lives are directly impacted by the new justice system and even those who only brush up against new codes. Each chapter is unrelated to the last so don't worry if you jump in in the middle and if one is not to your taste then the next one might be. Please feel free to comment and to private message me. I love speaking with readers and I value all of your input. I hope you enjoy.
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Molly Robertson sat in her office and looked over her office. It still wasn't quite where she wanted it to be but she didn't really get to spend much time in it with her schedule anyway. It was very old fashioned. The desk was large and made of dark wood and on three of the four walls there were shelves of the same color that were full of untouched books that were mostly for show. All of the important legal material was online now, especially for Molly's specialization: the Judicial Codes.
Two and a half years ago, just as Molly was finishing law school, the legislature reformed the criminal codes so that minor infractions, like traffic tickets, and non violent crime, like shoplifting, could be punished with painful corporal punishments and humiliating public nudity and sometimes at the same time. Since the laws first passed hundreds of punishment centers were built across the country and tens of thousands of people had been punished under the codes.
Molly had gotten very lucky. Obviously, she was a young woman when the laws debuted and, at the time, everyone suspected that he laws were going to be mostly targeted at them. In time, the data bared that out. Molly was well placed to be an early expert on the laws and when she was hired by the law firm of Braxton and Braxton, she moved up the ranks very quickly as litigating the new legal landscape took up a lot of attention. Now as a Senior Associate, she was almost certainly going to be a partner in the next year or so, that was if she didn't decide to strike out on her own.
At the same time that she was helping with cases, she had also been a bit of a public figure. She was the expert on the new laws and there was a lot of media requests. She helped prepare the partners, at first, for appearances on news shows but eventually she was asked to be the public face of the firm on the issue. From there, she had become the public face of the legal activism against the law and in defense of those subject to them. She was sure it helped that she was a young blonde woman, but she had also written a number of articles that were published in law reviews so she could back up her public image with legal chops. Molly had also built relationships with some activists and organizations committed to repealing the laws or at least reforming the way that they were implemented.
She had ambitions and she knew she was on the right track. One day, she was going to be part of the case that brought these laws down. Molly suspected that the laws were sexist in origin though supporters of the laws pointed to statistics that women were disproportionately more likely to commit non violent crimes than men and that was why women were an outsized number of the victims of the codes. Molly thought it was a tenuous argument but that was where the jurisprudence was at right now. Still, one day that argument was going to work and either the legislature or the superior court was going to agree.
Until then, though, she had to deal with the laws and for the next few hours she was going to do what she got into the profession to do: help defendants. Twice a month she held office hours for perspective clients and people who wanted simple answers for simple questions and today was one of them. These free consultations made Molly feel like she was really a lawyer whereas sometimes all of her other responsibilities sometimes distracted her. It was good to get back to this kind of work a couple times a month.
She looked at the clock and saw that there were only a few minutes until her first appointment would arrive so she looked at the questionnaire that the client had filled out. Shuffling through papers, she learned what she could.
The first potential client was named Salwa Farouk and she was a twenty-four year old woman in town. She had been referred by one of the organizations that Molly worked with, the USSJP or University Students Surviving Judicial Punishments. They were a university support group so Salwa was probably a student at the local college. There was a place in the questionnaire for details but the woman hadn't put much. It seemed like a question about the punishment after a traffic incident. Molly wished there was more information so she could prepare like pulling up the specific law or code, but she was just going to have to do that research on the fly after she spoke to her. Hopefully she brought all of the legal documents she'd received with her as they were instructed to when the receptionist confirmed their appointment.
It probably didn't matter. Most of these meetings were fairly simple. Most matters came up over and over so, by now, Molly knew the answers to those by heart. A light flashed on her gray office phone and Molly put it on speaker. "Hey, Mona," she said to the secretary, "Is my appointment here?"
"Yes, ma'am," Mona answered, "Are you ready for her?"
"Yep, I'm ready. Page me if I go long with her. I know I have another in an hour," Molly told the receptionist.
"Will do. Miss Farouk will be right up."
The phone went dark as Mona hung up and Molly stood up from her desk and walked so she stood near the door. She straightened her navy blazer and slacks to make sure she looked the part and soon there was a knock on the door. She stepped forward and opened it.
In front of her was an olive skinned young woman. She was on the shorter side and her brown hair peaked out from beneath a gray head scarf that hung to her shoulders. She had on a tan turtle neck sweater with cables and blue jeans tucked into black boots. In her hands she had a manilla envelope that must hold the documents that were requested.
"Hello, Miss Farouk," the lawyer said, reaching out a hand.
"Hi, Ms. Robertson," the woman answered, hesitating before shaking her hand.
"Here, have a seat," Molly said offering the woman a comfortable chair that sat across from Molly's desk. Molly walked around and sat as well, "You can call me Molly, if you'd like. What would you like to talk about?"
Salwa looked around and Molly could tell she was feeling nervous. Molly reminded herself to move up renovating her office as it wasn't the most calming locale and spoke, "It's ok. For the next hour, I'm your lawyer. I'm here to tell you the facts but also to make sure that you know what is going on and that might make you feel more comfortable. Anything you say is confidential even if this is the only conversation we have."
"Ok," Salwa muttered, "I'm not sure I can afford you, anyway, so this is probably it."
"I don't want you to worry about that. If we decide that you need to retain counsel then we can talk about that. There are funds to help pay if you meet certain criteria so I don't want you to worry about that. But we should come back to that at the end. Let's spend our time on more important matters," Molly said.
"Ok," Salwa nodded.
"So tell me about yourself," Molly encouraged her.
"Well," Salwa started, "About six weeks ago I rear ended a car on the way home from the hospital . . ."
"Salwa, no," Molly interrupted, "Tell me about yourself. We can talk about your situation in a minute."
"Oh, ok," Salwa said in her quiet voice, "Well, I'm a medical student at the University. I grew up here in the city and I'm the youngest of four. I have an older sister and two brothers who are between us. I-I don't know what else to say."
"That's ok," Molly said, "So how do you like med school?"
"Oh, it's ok. I'm starting to shadow specialists, now. My parents always wanted me to be a doctor."
"I'm sure you make them proud," Molly assured her.
"Well this whole situation has them mad. They think, well, that this is going to ruin me," she paused, "You know why people come to you. It's kind of hard to be modest with these penalties."
"Ah," Molly said, her mind racing through precedents of religious and moral exemptions to laws, "I understand. Well, why don't we move on to that. Would you like to start at the beginning?"
"Um, sure. I was driving home from the hospital after classes, and I rear ended a car. I got out and the other driver was really, really mad and yelling at me. Soon the police were there, and he yelled at them too," she paused to see Molly nodding along, encouragingly, "Eventually I talked to the police and I learned I didn't have my proof of insurance. I had insurance but my card was expired. They interviewed me and they wrote up a report which I signed and then they told me to expect something in the mail."
"Ok," Molly said to show she was listening. Hopefully, Salwa brought that report that she signed with her and the mailing was probably the Summons that spelled out her charge and punishment. With a car accident like that, there wouldn't be a court proceeding unless Salwa requested one.
Salwa continued, "When I got the summons, it was just terrible. I got charged with failure to control my vehicle, driving my vehicle too quickly for road conditions, and not having proof of insurance which all make sense. I couldn't contest those, but the punishment just seems like way too much and . . ."
Salwa trailed off and Molly was about to suggest allowing her to read the documents when the med student continued, "I don't think I can do it. I think it's too dishonorable. So I guess I'm just asking if there is anything that I can do to ask for a different punishment."
Molly tilted her head as she thought. Negotiations for particular penalties usually happened as part of a plea bargain, but it wasn't a hard no for Salwa's question. "Can you share what the penalty is, perhaps?"
"Right, yeah, sorry," Salwa mumbled, "I mean, I'm going to be a doctor. I shouldn't be so embarrassed." She raised her hand into a fist and thrust it forward, "I think the term is punitive penetration of my vagina."
Molly's eyebrows rose. Of course, she had had a handful of clients that had been given a J40 before, but no woman could hear it without feeling an instinctual dread. It was, also, very surprising that that was the sentence given her charges. Molly tried to not jump to conclusions, but she had expected a public exposure punishment and that Salwa, obviously modest and presumably religious, did not want to be seen naked in public. This punishment must be even worse if her family cared about her virginity but she was going to let the other woman bring that up, checking herself for making conclusions based on Salwa's dress. All these thoughts raced through her sharp mind in just a moment before she spoke, "That must be very scary. There is definitely a conversation to be had about appealing your specific punishment. May I read the documents you brought me, quickly, please?"
"Oh, yeah, of course," Salwa said handing it over, "I just . . . I just." She took a deep breath to continue, "I'm sure you've noticed I'm Muslim and I don't want you to think I'm some sheltered little girl. I've tried alcohol and I skip mosque some weeks but it's still important to me. I don't think my dad could ever look at me again if something was inside me like that."
Molly gave the girl her most supportive smile as she took the envelope, "I understand. Let's see what we can do ok?"
