PROBLEM AT THE BEACH

                             by

                          Goodgulf



    Edith smiled.  She knew that the woman's ID had been taken 
with the rest of her things when the beach's locker room had been 
robbed.  She had no problem believing Stephanie's story, if only 
because of the way she talked.  Her vocabulary was clearly above 
that of a teenager, and she was very articulate.  Her story of 
being a college student cutting a few classes to hit a local beach 
on a Friday made sense.

    But she looked young in that modest one-piece suit, and there 
was that new county policy to consider.  Not that Edith followed 
policy blindly, but it was something that she could hide behind, 
at least in this case.

    "But officer, if you would just call the college...."

    "That's not the procedure," Edith said, interrupting.  "The 
procedure is you have to make the phone call, and it has to be 
to a parent or guardian."

    "But I'm not a minor!  I just moved here to go to college, and 
my folks live two hundred miles away, and...."

    "A likely story, the policewoman said harshly.  "If I had a 
dime for every time some teenybopper told me one I'd be retired.  
And it has to be a local call; our phone won't do long distance."

    "What?"

    "There's a budget crisis, so, to save money, the county dropped 
our long distance plan.  Now all calls have to be local," Edith 
informed her, skipping over only a little information.

    All calls had to be local, unless they were collect calls.  
But, with most people having their own phone plans, collect calls 
were a thing of the past.  Odds were the girl would never think to 
ask about them so the subject of collect calls would be one of 
those things that fell through the cracks.

    "But...."

    "Look, I told you what's happening.  Minors involved in a 
police incident have to call their parents or be taken in to 
processing.  If you can't make the phone call, I have to take 
you in."

    "But, officer, I was robbed!  I didn't do anything.  My locker 
was robbed...."

    "And all of your stuff was taken," Edith finished for her.  
"Including your bus pass, so you can't get home that way."

    "No, it was my car keys and...."

    "Please!  We both know that you're too young to drive," Edith 
said with a laugh.  "Now are you going to walk to the car, or do 
I have to cuff you?"

    "But I'm sure I can get a ride back to campus so...."

    "You asked for it."

    A few well-practised moves later, and the cuffs were on.

    "Now move," Edith ordered, landing a swat on the girl's 
backside.

    "Hey!  You can't do that!" Stephanie sputtered.  "That's police 
brutality!"

    "Not with a minor it's not."  Edith urged her on with another 
swat.

    As they left the beach, the onlookers put "one" (the robbery 
of the lockers) and "one" (the girl in handcuffs) together and 
drew the logical conclusion.

		******************************

    Edith drove the long way in, reaching the station just after 
five.  Once there, she turned the girl over to another officer, 
with a knowing wink.  Since the girl arrived in cuffs, she could 
"accidentally" be treated as a suspect, not a victim, and processed 
in.  Since Edith had made sure that the girl was entering the 
system as a minor, she would end up being held at the county 
juvenile holding centre.  She would see a lawyer, but, thanks to 
the budget crisis forcing legal aid to be a 9-5, weekday-only thing 
(except for the most serious cases) the girl wouldn't see one until 
Monday.  With the reduction in the legal aid pool (fewer lawyers 
worked for it now) she might not see one until late Monday 
afternoon.

    This meant that the girl would be in the system as a juvenile 
offender for the rest of Friday, all of Saturday and Sunday, and 
some of Monday.  And, if the lawyer didn't see her soon enough on 
Monday, she would spend Monday night there as well.  Since she 
didn't have clothes (other than her swimsuit) she would be forced 
into a uniform when she got to the juvenile centre, right after the 
search.  And, if she objected or gave them lip, then she'd find out 
about the holding centre's new corporal punishment policy, a policy 
that she would live under for the next few days.

    Edith had no problem picturing the girl with her suit off, 
being spanked.  While she wasn't normally a cruel woman, she 
had, once upon a time, wanted to go to college...but couldn't 
afford it (unlike many of her former friends, who had then wasted 
no time in snubbing her).  This meant that she now took every 
opportunity to stick it to self-absorbed college girls.

    As she pictured Stephanie being processed and spanked at the 
juvie centre, her only regret was not being able to be there to 
watch it happen.

		******************************

    Edith grew thoughtful.  Where's the harm in pointing out to a 
friend that the girl doesn't need the best legal mind in the state 
and that poor old Rabble needs a case or two or he might lose the 
health coverage he gets from legal aid?  The poor guy needs all the 
help he can get, especially after banging that judge's daughter 
when she was on her 21st-birthday-I-can-legally-drink-now spree.  
Everything was consensual enough that she didn't cry date rape, 
but she privately told her dad that Rabble gave her crabs (when 
everyone knows that she gave them to him), and now the judge hates 
Rabble and all of his clients.

    And if Edith were to drop by the juvie centre...well, she had 
seen Stephanie only once, and she had been wearing a swimsuit.  How 
could Edith be expected to recognise the same girl when she was 
dressed in a detention centre uniform?  Or just part of one, as she 
got her bottom warmed?  And, even if she tried to remind Edith, the 
policewoman could point out that all the girls at the detention 
centre lie all the time.  How was she to know who was telling the 
truth?

		******************************


              PROBLEM AT THE BEACH: THE FOLLOW UP

                              by

                          Imreadonly


	
    Unfortunately for Stephanie, Edith couldn't let the case alone. 

    She might talk to a friend at the courthouse, suggesting that 
the young woman's case be postponed as long as possible -- for her 
sake, so that, if some adult wishes to come forth to claim her, 
they can.

    She might also suggest assigning Mr. Rabble as Stephanie's 
defense attorney.  Sure, he is often forgetful and drunk, but 
he means well, even if the judge hates him and takes his anger 
out on Rabble's poor unfortunate clients.

    "She's scheduled to get a strapping tomorrow at 9?  I'll be 
there, to show my moral support.  I'd also like to see her in her 
school uniform.  I'm sure she'll be cute as a button."

		******************************

    Told repeatedly at the correctional center that she could 
contact her parents only through her lawyer, Stephanie was left 
isolated, except for the incompetent Barnard J. Rabble, Esq. 

    And, unfortunately, Rabble made something of a shambles of the 
poor girl's hearing.  

    First, Stephanie was quite distressed when her lawyer showed up 
for her proceedings both late and quite drunk.

    Then, prohibited from speaking on her own behalf, she had to 
watch helplessly as her own attorney again and again deferred to 
the prosecutor.  Indeed, at times he almost seemed to be building 
an even stronger case against her.

    Edith was never called as a witness, since Rabble stipulated to 
all the facts, including his client's supposed age.  The judge, 
infuriated by the lawyer's antics, took it out on poor Stephanie, 
sentencing her to a year of strict reformatory discipline, starting 
with six-of-the-best the very next morning.

    Edith made a beeline to call her friend at the reformatory, the 
one who wanted so desperately to join the police force.  "May I 
come visit you tomorrow, and watch you process in the new girls, 
and dish out their punishments?  Really?  You're a matron short?  
Well, perhaps I can help.  I've always wondered what it might be 
like to give a caning....  Why, of course I'll put a recommendation 
for you.  See you at 7AM...."




Edited by C. Lakewood