KIMMY'S LIST

CHAPTER 15

Inside the building, they strolled passed an unquestioning female guard seated at a front counter. They continued down a long stark corridor to a foyer area.

The female guard walking with them gestured to a row a chairs. ‘Davis. You wait over there,’ the female guard said. She then addressed the other four women. ‘You lot follow me.’

Kimberly moved to sit. She watched the women disappear through a door. She was now on her own. She glanced around at her isolation. Stark, tired décor. Pale paint colours. A sign above a counter window read, ‘Reception.’

Sitting all alone on a row of chairs, Kimberly felt like the class trouble maker banished to sit outside the principal’s office.

I wonder what the time is. Her attention was drawn to shouting coming from the room with the other women. It sounded like a real fracas was taking place.

Kimberly startled when two male guards suddenly burst through a door at the end of the corridor and ran to the room. They entered without knocking. A short time later they emerged, dragging one of the women from the room. She resisted, digging in her heels as she abused and swore at the guards.

Kimberly watched them wrestle their way down the corridors and disappear through a door.

How am I ever going to get used to this?

Less than five minutes later, the door to the same room flung open.

One-by-one the remaining three women emerged wearing a white T- shirt with DOCS stamped on their chest, prison - issue blue track suit pants and white runners. Each one carried the civilian clothes they earlier arrived in.

The single file approached the reception counter and waited. A male guard appeared on the other side of the reception counter. Each woman took turns approaching the counter to place the clothes they carried into a large plastic box with a blue lid, similar in size to a large recycling bin.

When they were done, another male guard escorted them out the door at the end of the corridor.

‘Davis. Your turn. Come forward,’ the guard behind the counter said.

Ever the obedient in this submissive environment, Kimberly sprung from her seat and quickly walked to the counter and rested on her hands. The guard indicated the yellow line on the ground. ’Stay behind that line.’

‘Oh, sorry.’ Kimberly said. She quickly stepped back behind the line.

‘You don’t have to apologise. You get told this time, so you know next time.’

How do I address him? Do I call his sir…? It was too overwhelming. All she ended up going with was, ’OK.’

The guard checked a page on his clipboard. ’OK. Kimberly Davis,’ he mumbled to himself as he scanned the page. ’Alright. So you are with us on remand until a date to be fixed…’ he said.

Kimberly nervously nodded her response, even though the guard didn’t lift his eyes to her.

He gestured with a pen towards the door through which the other women exited. ’You will have no doubt seen those other inmates had changed and were wearing the prison uniform when they left here.’

Kimberly nodded.

‘OK. Each of them are sentenced inmates serving time here at DOCS. Your position in here as a remandee is very different to them. Remandees are considered not sentenced.

In the eyes of the law, you are afforded your natural presumption of innocence until proven guilty. So your confinement here is not a punishment. OK?’

Kimberly was taken aback by those last comments. She frowned. ‘I’m sorry. This is completely new to me. May I ask a question?’

The guard leaned on his hands. ‘You May.’

‘Are you saying that even though I am being held in jail, I’m not being punished….?’

‘Correct.’

‘Forgive me if I appear insolent… I don’t mean to. But, isn’t that a distinction without a difference?’

‘I have to agree with you on that…. But that’s the way the system works.’

‘So, may I ask another question, please?’ Kimberly’s said with a slight tremor in her voice.

The guard grinned as he lowered on to his elbows. He was actually enjoying this. ‘You may, given you asked so politely.’

‘What happens if, down the track, I am acquitted of all charges?’

‘What happens in relation to the time you’d spent here, you mean?’

‘Yes.’

He pushed himself away from the desk to stand.

‘That is one of the great anomalies of our justice system. Nothing happens in relation to that time.’

Kimberly frowned. ‘Nothing happens? Do you mean….It just becomes time I will never get back? I would’ve essentially stayed here in these conditions, for no reason?’

‘That’s it. Do I think its right?’ He shook his head.

‘No I don’t. But I don’t make the rules, I just enforce them.’

Kimberly slowly shook a disbelieving head. How can that be right? How can they take me away, charge me for something I haven’t done, bring me to a place like this and then in the end, virtually say, sorry, wrong person. You are free to go. How can they do that?

‘OK… While you get your head around that,’ the guard began.

‘Let me continue,’ he said. ‘Because you are not sentenced, as a remandee, you are given maximum flexibility and have fewer restrictions to those placed on convicted inmates.

‘For examples….’ The guard bent back a finger, ‘You are held separately from convicted prisoners.’ He bent back a second finger.

‘You’ll have increased access to visitors and telephone calls.’ He bent back a third finger.

‘You are offered the opportunity to work, but you are not obligated to, unlike convicted prisoners who have to work. And the last one,’ he said, flicking a finger at Kimberly’s clothing. ‘You are permitted to wear your own clothing, instead of the prison uniform, if you wish.’

Kimberly regarded her clothing. ‘I can wear this instead of what they were wearing…?’ She jabbed a thumb to the door the women exited through.

‘Correct.’

‘Wouldn’t I stand out from the others?’

The guard smiled. ‘No. You won’t actually. Do you remember I said that remandees are kept separate from the convicted prisoners…?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, you’ll be kept in the remand precinct with other remandees. These are cottage style cells, some call them apartments. They are a bit like a university share - house dorm.’

‘OK.’ That didn’t sound like a jail, not the jail she had envisioned.

‘Each unit houses five remandees like yourself, and has an individual kitchen and dining facilities. You will be required to cook and prepare your own meals and do your own washing, ironing and housework. Any questions?’

‘No. You have explained everything quite clearly. Thank you.’ Kimberly was surprised at how friendly this guard was.

The guard beckoned towards the female guard standing off to the side. ‘Now. I’ll get you to go with this officer to complete your admissions. OK.’

He addressed the other guard. ‘Remandee staying in civvies,’ he said.

The female guard nodded. ‘Come with me.’

Kimberly followed the female guard into the same room the other women entered earlier. The room resembled a basic medical room. There was a single, sheet covered gurney bed, a sink, a desk and two chairs.

The guard pointed to the chair in the corner of the room. ‘Strip. Place your clothes there.’

‘Everything off…?’ Kimberly asked. Disrobing in front of another woman was difficult for her.

‘EVERYTHING, Titties out!’ the guard said.

It was bad enough stripping naked, but to do so while the guard carefully watched her every move was unsettling. As Kimberly removed an item of clothing the guard lifted it from the chair and examined it.

Once she was completely naked, Kimberly stood with her arms across her body, doing her feeble best to try and hide her bits.

Kimberly’s eyes flared when the guard snapped blue disposable gloves on her hands. Surely they don’t do internal examinations.

The guard fronted Kimberly and checked behind her ears.

‘Open your mouth.’

‘Poke out ya tongue…Lift it. OK. Arms out to the side.’

Kimberly did as instructed. Her nudity was now on full display. She was way outside her comfort zone.

The guard checked her armpits. ‘Arms down.’

The guard pointed to Kimberly’s left breast. ‘Lift that up….’ Kimberly lifted her left breast. ‘Down. Now that one.’

This was so embarrassing. It wasn’t even a medical.

‘Turn around. Bend forward.’

Kimberly slowly rested her hands on her knees. Her eyes welled up. First they took her freedom, now they’ve taken her dignity.

For the conservative Kimberly, this was difficult. She had been reduced to bending forward so a female guard could look up her arse, to ensure she hadn’t smuggled something into the prison.

‘Squat down on your haunches…’

Kimberly rolled her eyes. She did as instructed. Tears rolled down her cheeks as the guard visually checked her under - carriage and other more intimate locations.

Kimberly covered herself up as she stood on the scales, watching the digital display dance to sixty-two.

The guard recorded the weight. She lifted a plastic jar with a yellow lid. ‘Head in there…’ She gestured to a door. ‘And provide a urine sample…’

Tears continued to trickle as Kimberly accepted the jar and entered the toilet. When she returned the urine sample was labelled and bagged.

‘OK. Now, you’ve elected to stay in your civvies…?’ the guard said as a question.

Kimberly frowned.

‘Civvies…Civilian clothes…Your street clothes there.’ The guard gestured to Kimberly’s clothes on the chair.

‘That’s right.’

‘OK. Put ‘em back on.’

It was probably the quickest Kimberly had ever dressed. She threw everything back on, inside out, back to front, twisted, it didn’t matter.

When Kimberly was dressed, the guard opened the door. ‘Follow me and we’ll head over to the remand precinct.’

At the end of the long corridor they exited the admissions building. For the first time in several hours Kimberly breathed in fresh air. A gentle breeze brushed against her face. She looked skyward. Fast moving clouds dominated her restricted vista.

They stepped into a small alcove, fully enclosed with towering, tightly woven, wire mesh fencing, topped with razor wire. Three wire gate options confronted them, each one led to a different accommodation block.

The guard unlocked the gate on the left and stepped through. She held it for Kimberly to follow. A similar wire fence lined the right side of the path.

A green space of lawns and garden beds was on the left. Ahead was a stand - alone building with an orange tiled roof - their intended destination.

What Kimberly noticed first and foremost was the front door was not locked. The guard just reefed it open and walked in. Kimberly followed.

Inside, they approached a male guard seated at a guard’s station located a short distance inside the door. Beyond that was a common room. Three women lounged in the various seating provided, watching television. None of them noticed Kimberly’s arrival.

Kimberly’s escort placed some paperwork on the desk. ‘New arrival for you…’ the guard said to her colleague. ‘Davis. Kimberly.’

The other guard lifted the paperwork and read it. ‘Welcome Kimberly. The male guard said, as he continued to read. Kimberly was taken aback by the welcome. While somewhat banal, it was still unexpected. This was prison.

‘Are you required to undergo any rehab while you’re here…?’ The guard said to himself as he perused the report. His eyes lifted to Kimberly. ‘No history of drug use…?’ He said as a question.

Kimberly firmly shook her head. Everything about drugs abhorred her; the users, the dealers, the damage they caused to families and individuals, the effects on community through crime - everything. ‘No,’ she said. He reply was convincingly firm.

‘OK. Good,’ he said. He flipped over a page. ‘What brings you here to us then…?’ He asked himself while he read on.

At that moment Kimberly wanted a hole to open up so she could climb in and hide. She couldn’t look at the guard, not while he read her charges. She knew she would be unfairly judged for something she didn’t do.

The guard’s eyebrows lifted. ‘Oh…’ he said then regarded Kimberly. He returned all the pages.

The escorting guard tapped the desk twice.

‘You won’t have any problems with this one…’ she said, then left the block.

Kimberly watched her escort leave. She couldn’t help herself. She had to present her own defence, if for no other reason than for her own peace of mind.

‘Just so you know…’ Kimberly began. She flicked a finger at the report on the desk.

‘There has been a huge mistake. I never did any of those things.’

‘That’s not for me to judge,’ the guard said.

‘There are people who paid a hell of lot more than me to make those findings.’

He removed two folded blankets and a folded sheet from under the counter and placed them on top. ‘This is your bedding. It is your responsibility to keep it clean.’ The guard moved around to Kimberly’s side.

‘Pick them up and I’ll give you the grand tour.’

As they strolled, the guard pointed out the various rooms within the complex. ‘You’ve got your kitchen over there and dining there. You will be responsible for making all your own meals and keeping that space clean. You will also be responsible for doing your own washing, ironing and housework. That over there is a shared space…’

He gestured to the open lounge area. ‘We have five rooms here and they are now all full.’

Kimberly noticed he referred to their cells as rooms.

‘Those three sitting there…’ He gestured to the lounging women watching TV. ‘Plus the one currently at her compulsory rehab session, are your cottage mates. During the day you are free to roam around inside and out in the gardens. You have minimal restrictions, unless you abuse the privilege. Understood?’

‘I understand.’