“What does bust balls mean?” she replied in chagrin.


The winter weather in Ohio picked up its snow flurries with brutal force while Celeste and Peter rode Chief through the heavy dense woods.  “Are you cold Peter?” she asked her little tiny friend.  “I’m warm thank you, you’re blanket is cozy and I feel your body heat on my back.”  Celeste gives Peter her evaluation of the snowy blizzard, “We must hurry home before we get caught in this shitty weather.  Are you ready to run like the wind on our mighty steed Chief?”  “Chief is you’re horse’s name cowgirl,” Peter chimed out with happiness.  “Yes and the name is fitting for him, because he is the Chief of all horses in this world.”  Peter giggled with delight, “Who named him and did you bust his balls?” Celeste is shocked to hear his question, “What does bust balls mean?” she replied in chagrin.  Peter broke out in child laughter, but not without coughing his lungs out.  She stopped the horse for worry of her friend.  “I will not make you laugh little one, I worry it will harm your lungs.”  Peter quickly choked in, “No, I’m alive and want to live in this fabulous moment till I die cowgirl with you.”   Peter coughs a little more, Celeste snuggles him closer to her warm body until he stopped his coughing.  “Bust balls means you broke his sorry ass to ride, or it could mean you sliced his private area to make him not have babies anymore.  At least that is what Westin said.”  Celeste roared out with laughter, Peter joined in.  Chief whinny’s a response to their laughter and begins to move out once more while the couple giggled joy to the snowy world.  “Mi Papa named this horse Peter, I did as you say busted his balls one day.”  Peter giggled and listened to the tale of her breaking the draft horse one day.  The snow is coming down fast and hard when Celeste finished her storytelling.  “We must ride hard Peter, are you okay?”  The brave little boy whispers out yes.  Celeste hears in his tone he is exhausted.  “Yah…” Celeste barks out to her horse and sends the beast through the snow with power of speed.  She instantly releases the reins to hold the boy’s body with both arms.  Peter yelps with merry and freedom, “More cowgirl more,” he wisps out, but Celeste hears nothing except making sure she holds him tight and her horse doesn’t miss a step on the icy ground.  She slows the horse down and begins to use leg pressure to guide the equine at a skipping pace weaving in and out the large pine trees.  Peter screamed with glee.  Celeste fell in love with the purity sound of child’s laughter.

“Where’s Peter at mom?” Westin yelled out to his mother the minute he got home and didn’t see Peter in his room.  “He’s away for a few days at a place where he will flourish or maybe save his life.  He needs to be away and at least live with happiness then sorrow instead of lying in his bed waiting for hell to knock on his door.”  Westin relaxes and fries himself a egg with toast.  “You stink like alcohol Westin,” Jean walks into the kitchen upset with Westin.  “What caused you to lose your way son, and revert back to living a wild life?” Westin refuses to light the fire to his mother’s questions.  Jean tenderly walks up to her blood shot eye son, and ruffles his messy hair with her hand.  “I think I have a pretty good idea.”  Westin drops his spatula in the frying pan and turns to his mother to spit out with venom.  “Really you think so?” and returns to his cooking.  Jean is sadden how Westin has become ugly and nasty.  “It’s the Indian girl,” Jean hushed out with care.  Westin didn’t move a muscle when his mother spoke.  Jean watched her son’s hand shake with a spatula in hand.  “She’s different isn’t she Westin,” his mother dared to say.  “I know because I have watched you change after leaving the girl one day.  Also, the private conversations you and Peter had right after you returned home made me realize it all revolves around that cowgirl; because Peter wasn’t the same and lived in sadness refusing to talk with you afterwards.”  Westin knew he couldn’t hide his feelings anymore, he spun around and hugged his mother tightly as he broke down his defenses and balled out his frustration to his mother openly and honestly.  “Mom forgive me, for pissing my life away, I don’t know what’s happening anymore to me.  And YES….damn it I love the cowgirl.  Mom I want her so bad I feel I can’t breathe correctly when I am not around her.  My heart skips a beat every time I looked upon the girl, but mom she scares me too; because there is something about her I can’t figure out and I am talking about spook shit not your normal crap.”  Jean feels smothered by her son’s strong embrace and wiggles out of his arms to shut the burner off on his burnt fried egg.  “Go sit down at the table son it’s time you and I talked seriously.”  Westin zombie his way to the table and sat down to stare out the window to watch the snow blow, he takes a deep breath and wipes his teary eyes dry.  He starts to feel a weight is going to be lifted off his heavy shoulders by spilling the beans to his mother and is ready to release the demon of silence that is harboring inside his body with the truth as he sees it.



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