Today is a beautiful day. One of those days where everything is supposed to go well. The woods seem to be alive, the air smells of resin and flowers, the summer has just begun and the heat is still bearable.
And I'm fine. Really good. I have my cup of steaming coffee in my hands, I am sitting on the fence looking at the lake whose water does not move an inch and I breath.
My lungs fill with air, the cool morning air. I exhale and relax my shoulders, my muscles relax. Even the fucking birds are singing. And I, Elizabeth Piper Chapman, am happy. Here, at this very moment, in this forest, with light filtering through the trees, I'm happy.
I realize that there's nothing I want more in the world, how many people can say that they are so happy on a Monday morning before starting to work? I'm so fucking lucky.
I let my mind wander, I'm no longer afraid of anything. I think about the new guests that are coming, how they will be so happy to spend 15 days in this paradise, I think of my Cal, that little dog-wagging brother, I'm so proud of him, of us, for making this possible.
It all started five years ago, that day in November when I was released. Cal was waiting outside the prison. Cal and a giant cold cheeseburger, but I still remember it as the most delicious thing I've ever eaten in my life.
Only toward the fifth bite I started crying. At first I did not even realize that the tears had started to flow, but when I nearly strangled after a sigh, I simply put aside the burger and I started to cry. I cried for an hour, Cal, poor guy, he did not know what to do. He kept driving, and tell me that everything would be fine, that I will stay for a while in the apartment that Grandma had in New York. He had it renovated and our parents, probably full of guilt, had agreed to let me stay there at least until I returned to be"the normal Piper".
But what Cal had not realized was that I wasn't crying because I was afraid that I would not be "the normal Piper" again. No, I was crying from gratitude. I was crying because, fucking irony, now I was really me. And the thing that changed me and set me free was the prison.
The normal Piper had never existed. It was just the most comfortable mask I had worn for a lifetime. Blonde, young, college graduate, good daughter, girlfriend and with a career perfectly acceptable. All very nice, and all very very fake.
I didn't know who I really was. I didn't know it even in those years with Alex. Oh, Alex.
Of course, I followed my heart, and that, at least, it was something genuine, but my true nature, my very being, was hidden. Hidden by the mask of the perfect girlfriend. Hidden when I pretended not to understand the job of the person I said to love. Hidden when I was faking naivety. And I liked wearing those masks.
"I do not wanna go there" I mumbled through the tears. "What?" My brother said clearly confused.
"I do not want to see people. I just want to go home "
"Home where Pipes? Do you want me to call Larry? ". That got me one of the biggest laughter of my life. Then I started to cry again because ... what was home for me? My bunk, Nichols making stupid jokes, Yoga Jones's reassuring smile, Red's vegetables. That was home. That was the only place I was being myself and being comfortable. The real me, the real Piper. The angry, stupid, confusing, bossy, but fucking honest Piper. And the real Piper swore a lot.
"I do not know." And I did not really know.
But, in that moment, that sweet sweet teddy bear who's my brother, turned the car around and started driving. And he brought me here. In his cabin in the woods. He gave me food, water, wood for the fire, blankets and a laptop with a hard drive full of all the TV shows and the movies in the world. He was living with his wife in the house next to the cabin, and they came "watching" me twice a day.
And that's how I ended up here. Sort of. It took me two weeks of binge-watching before I decided to go outside. Another week of long walks before I called my parents. Another week to call Polly (and briefly Larry) and one last long week to decide that I was ready to face the world as "The New Piper". The real one. I started to live in NY, but this place was already in my heart.
The rest is history. I took grandma's flat in the city. Polly and me, we made peace, made Popi areality and we are now the proud owners of a very successful shop. But the thing I'm most proud is this. Camp Clearwaters. I know, stupid name. But I love it anyway.
It's our creature, mine and Cal's. We started to rent the cabin two years ago, after some New York hipsters, clients of mine asked me if I knew a place to "get away from the stress." And then we tried to invest and buy new cabins, new land and that's how we ended up with Camp Clearwaters.
Seven cabins in the woods. Each one with all the comfort you can get in a cabin in the woods. Bathroom, wifi, bugs and all the nature you want. Each year we are open from june till September, Cal takes July and August. Josephine, AKA Yoga Jones, uses September for a yoga retreat. But June, June is all mine.
Polly can handle PoPi alone for a month, she still feels like she own me after the whole "Larry thing". I really do not care anymore about it, about him, but I really enjoy my month here. I need it like I need the air that I breath. It gives me strength, peace, and other good feelings.
Yes, I have to work here, help the clients, take them for walks, fix the water pipes, clean, prepare the night bonfire, cooking meals, but most of the times I just stay here, breathing and enjoying being alive, being mature and being a successful and serene human being.
Today are arriving the last clients. A couple from Chicago who are staying at cabin 6 for two weeks. It's the first time they're here, and, like all the new guests, they're going to fall in love with the place. It is magical, invigorating, I know it, I've been here, I've been healed here.
A warm breeze flows through my messy hair. When I'm here I do not need to comb my hair, they still have the fingerprints of Martha's hands from last night, When she was scratching my scalp while my head was between her legs. I always love it when we have sex in our cabin the woods. It's wild, freeing, intimate and the orgasms are always bigger. She does not mind, and I do not mind.
A little smile appears in my face at the thought of my beautiful lady. She's already back in the city, she's got work to do today, but tomorrow she's gonna be here for the weekend. If you would tell me five years ago that I would be happily engaged, with a girl, a shared flat and a dog, I would have laugh at your face.
And not just because my last engagement did not go as planned at all, but because I though that She destroyed me for good. I'm talking about Alex, my Alex, my own personal hell and paradise, all rolled into a big scary hot drug dealer.
What we had was insane, was bigger than us, was twisted and sweet and overwhelming. It was too much, too soon and too little too late. But now I'm at peace with whatever that was. It took me so much. So, so much. But I know now what it was. It was exactly what I needed to wake up.
I still remember the last time I saw her. I just got me that infinity tattoo on my ribcage who hurt like hell. And I was full of hatred. For Stella, for Alex, for the lack of freedom, but mostly for me. I was a crazy pinball ball with no direction and no purpose. The tattoo seemed like the only good thing to do, to remind myself that I was still alive, still me, still capable of being something permanent, constant, like a tattoo.
I heard the commotion in the yard, everybody was running like crazy. I got out, just out of curiosity and that's when I saw the ambulance at the greenhouse. I did not need to ask. I already knew. Well, there was not anyone to ask anyway. The terror, the sensation that I could not breath, got me paralyzed. I needed air, but I was already outside, I needed to run, but I was in a fucking prison. And that's when I saw her. A dead piece of meat on a stretcher. She was taken away from me. She did not move, she did not smile, she did not look at me. She was pale, perfect as always, but her face ... her face was red. It was blood. So much blood. And, in that moment the guilt was dropped on me like a fucking iron blanket. It was my fault. I did not believe her. I turned away from her. I brought her here. I killed her.
What happened next changed my life forever. For a week I did not talk to anyone. I did not eat, I just did not function anymore. I did not even cry. Sometimes Lorna, Yoga and even Red came to me. To talk to me. But I just did not function. I made the worst mistake of my life and there was not no going back. I just was broken. Forever. No turning back. I killed Alex, I killed my love.
It was a Friday when everything changed. I still remember it as it was yesterday. Eight days after the "incident". A van parked in the yard, and out of it came Nicky Nichols. The Mighty Nicky directly from Max. Everyone was so happy to see her. I was happy to see her. They threw a party in five minutes for her. The CO pretended not to see what was going on. Red was hugging the shit out of Nicky, everyone was cheering, I remember I even smiled a little when she came to say hi. An almost honest smile.
And then, she dropped the bomb. "By the way, Vause says hi!"
The silence in the room was absolute. Everyone was looking at me. They were looking at the ghost of the girl who once was Piper. I did not think my heart could stand the emotion I was feeling. For the first time in 8 days something entered my heart. It was hope, and it was dangerous.
I wanted to run away, to smash my head into the wall, I just wanted to feel numb again, but my legs were not collaborating. And my heart was just exploding.
"What do you mean? Alex is ... good? "Said someone.
Nicky was completely taken aback. She started looking around confused
"Well, as good as you can get when they try to kill you with a shovel. But ... why? "
Someone started to explain that we did not know anything and we though she was dead, but I could not hear anything, could not understand anything. I run in the chapel, I lied down behind the altar, the place we used for making out and making other stuff. And I started to cry. I finally let myself ... feel. I felt relief, love, hate, guilt, happiness, sadness, everything. All at once. And that's how I began to take away my masks forever. No more bullshit. And I became me. Purified and certificated Piper Elizabeth Chapman original. And all thanks to her.
In that moment I knew the reason why she felt so inevitable to me. Why I felt a pull to her. I was not just admiration, it was not just the thrill, it was not just love. It was need. I needed her. I needed her to dig me out of my hole. The hole of lies and fake smiles and expectations that I lived on. She freed me. She showed me who I was. And I did not like it. I fought it with all my power. I hated her for that. But right there, in that moment. I made peace. I made peace with myself. I got a second chance. I did not kill anyone. I was reborn.
From that day on everything fell into the right place. I dropped the panty business. I even tried to get Stella out of Max (and partially succeed). I just kept myself out of troubles and I tried to make something out of the 13 months I still had of my sentence.
I tried to write to Alex. Like she did when she was out of prison last year. A thousand letters, just to say hi, and to say thanks, mostly, to say how sorry I was. I did not want to see her or talk to her. I did not want to become friends again, we were never friends. I just wanted to let her know that I was glad she was alive, I was glad that she has been part of my life and I was an asshole, and she was right all the time. Well, maybe not all the time, but she was right when she was talking about me. She always saw right through me. She knew me better than I knew myself. What a fuckin cheesy thing to say.
But I never got an answer. I do not even know if she got them, I wrote her at the infirmary at max and at her address in Queens. After a few months, Nicky received a letter from Alex. She never told me what was written on it, but she let me read the last sentence. "Tell everybody I'm good, I'm okay and I'm happy." That was my clue. I stopped writing to her. And, I let her go.
Now I can say that I'm good, I'm okay and I'm happy too. I've made peace with my demons. I do not think about Alex a lot, and when to I do, like right now, I'm doing it with a smile, with no hard feelings, no regrets. I'm happy to think that she's happy somewhere . I know Nicky sometimes calls her, but I do not anymore ask her how she's doing, how's life outside prison. I do not really care about it. Sometimes, like when I hear a song that reminds me of her, I just wish I could see her one last time. Just to erase the last image I have of her. Her pale face with a bright red mask. I do not need to talk to her, clearly she does not want to, otherwise she would have asked Nicky. But I really do not need it. I just wish I could get a better closure. But I'm living happily without it. I'm good, I'm okay, and I'm happy. With my amazing and loving fiancé who knows and loves the real Piper, with new friendships and old ones, with my job, working with Polly in Popi, with my dog Ralph who's licking my feet in this exact moment and with this piece of paradise, Camp Clearwaters.
Speaking of which, I hear the car approaching, so I jump down from the fence and from my thoughts and I put up my best smile. This one is honest. These are the last guests of my month, in ten days I'll be back in the city, so let's just hope they are some decent human beings.
I walk to the cabin, with Ralph on my side, my little bitch, so ready to be pet by strangers. I spoke to Sandy on the phone, she and her boyfriend wanted to get away from the city for two weeks, they have read good reviews online and blah blah blah.
"I already love this place!" Says someone on my left.
"And that's a good start," I reply turning around with a big smile.
Woah! Sandy is nothing like I imagined. She's tall, for a start. And she's really really beautiful, with long brown hair, green eyes, freckles and a really genuine smile. And boobs. I know, I'm shallow, but she has them. And I like art.
"Hi! I'm Sandy, you must be Piper? "She says with an extended hand.
"Yes I am! Please to meet you Sandy. Did you get here easily? "I ask politely while opening the cabin and showing her the inside.
"Oh, the fuck not. The third time we passed the same tree, my girlfriend started to hit the wheel and I think I saw Bigfoot "She says laughing from the belly.
I like this girl. This could be funny. And then it hit me. Girlfriend. "Oh!" I say. Maybe too loud? I do not know. But her reaction is sudden. The smile goes off from her face, "Is that a problem, Piper?"
And the tone of the voice is pure ice in my veins. You do not mess with her. She bites.
Judging by her eyes maybe I wait too much for the reply but "No, no, not at all. My fiancé Martha is coming tomorrow too. "
And in two seconds the smirk is back in her face. "Seriously?"
"Why, is there a problem, Sandy?" And we start to laugh. That's how you make new friends.
"By the way" she adds "my girlfriend's name is Martha too. Let's hope that it's just a curious coincidence! Speaking of which, where is she? "
As we exit the cabin, I can see some movement in the brown car parked just outside. There's a girl trying to take out a gigantic baggage, while Ralph, obviously, is jumping on her long legs making it close to impossible. The thing that I immediately notice is the hair. Long, curly and deep red. There's something about her. Probably she's just as hot as her girlfriend. I feel a little threatened by them. Yes, I know me and Martha are a pretty couple, but, well, they look just like something else.
Without thinking I'm going there, as I approach the car I'm focused on Ralph, so I do not see how her muscles stiffen the moment I speak
"Ralph! Down! Sorry he's just very very friendly. You must be Martha, I'm Piper "
I'm still looking at Ralph while I extend my hand. And at that precise moment, I swear it, I know it. So when our eyes meet and she says "Fuck!" I already know it. It's not Martha, it's Alex. And my heart just screams "Fuck!".