Marie Ferrarella - The Cowboy's Lesson In Love

After six children had each told the class what special thing they had done over the weekend, Wynona turned toward the boy who was the real reason behind this impromptu exercise.

“Ryan, what did you do that was fun this weekend?” she asked him.

When the boy looked up at her, she was struck by the thought that he resembled a deer that had been caught in headlights.

After a prolonged awkward silence, Ryan finally answered. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” she repeated, searching for a way to coax more words out of Ryan. “You must have done something,” she said. When he said nothing in response, she tried again. “What did you do when you got up on Saturday morning?”

“I had breakfast,” Ryan replied quietly.

There was some snickering from a couple of the students. Wynona immediately waved them into silence. “That’s a perfectly good answer, Ryan. Everyone needs to take in a source of good fuel so that they’ll have energy to do things properly. What did you do after you finished breakfast?” she asked patiently.

Ryan licked his lips nervously. “Chores,” he finally answered.

“I’m sure your dad appreciated that you did those chores,” Wynona told him with feeling. She looked at him encouragingly. “Anything else?” she coaxed.

The boy thought for a moment, as if trying to remember what it was that he did next. And then he finally mumbled, “I went for a ride on Nugget.” Exhaling a breath, he stared down at the floor.

“Is Nugget your horse?” Wynona asked, hoping that might get him to talk a little more.

This time, instead of saying anything verbal, Ryan nodded.

There was color rising in his cheeks and Wynona realized that unlike the other children who all vied for her attention and were eager to talk, the attention she was giving Ryan just embarrassed him.

Wynona quickly put an end to his discomfort. “Well, that sounds like a really fun thing to do,” she told him. “I loved going for a ride on my horse when I was your age. But I had to share Skyball with my cousin. Skyball was an old, abandoned horse that someone had left to die, but we saved it.” She remembered that as one of the highlights of her less-than-happy childhood. Looking back at Ryan, she smiled at him. “Thank you for sharing that, Ryan. Rachel—” turning, she called out to another student “—how about you? What did you do this weekend?”

Rachel was more than happy to share the events of her weekend with the class.

As Rachel began her lively narrative, Wynona glanced back in Ryan’s direction. She watched the boy almost physically withdraw into himself.

This wasn’t right. She had to do something about it. Wynona was more determined than ever to get hold of Ryan’s father and talk to the man. She wanted to make sure that Washburn was aware of the boy’s shyness so they could work together in an effort to do something about it. She also wanted to make sure that Ryan’s behavior wasn’t the result of some sort of a problem that was going on at home.

When the recess bell rang and her class all but raced outdoors to immerse themselves in playing games they had created, Wynona quietly drew Ryan aside and asked if she could talk to him.

Instead of asking his teacher if he had done something wrong, or why he was being singled out, Ryan merely stood to the side and silently waited for her to begin talking.

She wanted to get him to relax, but she knew that wasn’t going to be easy.

“Ryan, why don’t you come and sit over here?” she suggested, pointing to a desk that was right at the front of the room.

Ryan looked at the desk warily, making no move to do as she said. He had a reason. “But that’s Chris’s desk.”

“I know that, but I’m sure Chris wouldn’t mind if you sit there just for a few minutes. He’s outside, playing,” she reminded the boy.

After hesitating for another second, he finally walked over to the desk she had pointed out. Still hesitating, Ryan lowered himself into the seat as if he expected it to blow up at any moment.

Watching him, Wynona was more convinced than ever that there had to be something wrong, most likely in his home life. Was his father abusing the boy?

Taking care to make and keep eye contact as she spoke, she kept her voice as warm and friendly as she could as she began to talk to the boy.

“I know that I’m still new here at the school, Ryan, but I just wanted you to know that if you have something you need to talk about, or if there’s something that’s bothering you, no matter how small it might be, I’m here for you.”

It was everything she could do not to put her arms around the boy and hold him to her. He looked so terribly vulnerable.

“You can tell me absolutely anything you want.” She peered down into his face, trying her best to maintain that eye contact. The boy had attempted to look away, but she wouldn’t let him. “Do you understand what I’m saying to you, Ryan?”

Ryan pressed his lips together and nodded, but he didn’t say anything.

It was like pulling teeth, Wynona thought. Very elusive teeth.

But she was determined and she tried again. “Is there anything you want to tell me, Ryan?”

Ryan shook his head. “No, ma’am.”

His answer was so low, she almost couldn’t hear the boy.

She knew that she could only push so much without scaring him off.

“Okay, but if you change your mind,” Wynona told the boy, “my offer still stands. And you know where to find me.”

Ryan responded to her question in complete seriousness. “In school.”

The corners of her mouth curved ever so slightly, but she managed not to laugh.

“Exactly.” Wynona glanced at her watch. “You’d better get outside, Ryan. I’ve used up part of your recess playtime.”

He obediently rose to his feet. “That’s okay,” he told her. “I wasn’t going to play anyway.”

Wynona took advantage of the opening, hoping to get a better understanding of what was going on in the boy’s head.

“Why not? Don’t you like to play, Ryan?”

She watched the small shoulders rise and fall in a helpless shrug. “Everybody already picked who they wanted on their side and what games they’re gonna be playing,” he told her.

She came to stand beside him, trying to convey in spirit that she was on his side. “Nothing’s cast in stone, Ryan. There’s always room for one more.”

The look he gave her said that they both knew that wasn’t true, at least not in his case. As he began to slip out of the classroom, Wynona called after him. “Would you like to help me put out the books for our reading lesson?”

Sensing that would only put him even further apart from the others, Ryan answered, “That’s okay. I’ll just go outside.”

Watching him go, Wynona blew out a long breath. Granted, she hadn’t been a teacher for all that long, but she could definitely recognize a cry for help when she saw it, even though none of those particular words had actually been spoken.

“Oh, Lord, what happened to you, Ryan?” she murmured under her breath as she observed the boy from the window as he made his way outside.

As she watched, Ryan went to a space on the playground that was totally devoid of any students. It was as if he had voluntarily placed himself in exile.

She needed to do something about this, Wynona thought. She honestly didn’t know what, but there had to be something she could do. She couldn’t just stand back and do nothing while she watched the little boy almost wither away and die on the vine.

Over the course of the next two days, Wynona attempted to call Clint Washburn three more times. Each time she called, the phone rang five times and then the call went to his answering machine. She already knew that she was calling a landline. Apparently, Clint Washburn didn’t have a cell phone.