Yonni Hale and the Cosmic Wind

By Ruth Heflin

She was warned. She tried to avoid it. But Yonni Hale had to learn that life is not safe, not even in her small Kansas hometown of Pratt. After having a vision, strange horse-women begin haunting her dreams, calling her to obey the will of the Cosmic Wind. Balancing good and evil, the Cosmic Wind recruits Yonni to stand against greedy men who desire nothing but power and money, no matter who they harm in the process. When her friends' homes are in danger because of the greedy mayor's real estate scam, Yonni must use her abilities to control the wind to help her friends save their homes. In the process, though, she exposes her family to danger, and must decide what is more important: justice or her family.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ruth Heflin
• Release date: Oct 19, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466104020

Ruth Heflin

My father was the Storyteller and my mother was the Reader. Between them, my love of a good story was fostered at a very young age. I used to fill Big Chief tablets with story after story, my hand barely big enough to hold those fat pencils. Even though I fantasized about being an archeologist (back BEFORE Indiana Jones), or a veterinarian, or an architect (before my high school principal told me GIRLS don't become architects; the swine!), my interests always returned to writing. As stories flow through me, I feel at one with the cosmos, clearly understanding why ancient writers believed they were inspired by muses. I achieved all my professional goals in the time frame I allotted myself in 8th grade, then found myself the victim of someone else's vanity and ambition--losing my full-time job in the process. I realized then that I could become a bitter old woman, or I could do what I always felt called to do--write. So I choose to write. Find my works under the names Ruth J. Heflin or Rajah Hill.

Book preview

Prologue

Government Ninja Agents

There once was a young girl who had difficulty concentrating on the here and the now.

*****

Yonni ran as fast as she could down the dirt road toward The Trees. She couldn’t let them catch her!

She slowed only long enough to glimpse over her shoulder, quickly scanning the skies in the direction of the heavy thudding sounds vibrating the air. Must be some sort of military helicopter, she thought to herself. Of course, it is, you idiot, she mentally chastised herself. Who else would want to kidnap you?

Yonni realized her pursuers could easily see her in the middle of the road, so she cut right, leaped over the drainage ditch, and nearly tumbled into the rows of corn that ran alongside the road. She felt like that guy in that Hitchcock movie her mother loved so much—alone, in the middle of nowhere (okay, she wasn’t that far from her house), with no one to care whether she lived, died, or was kidnapped by aliens.

Yonni hovered near the end of the row of corn, making certain she would be able to clear the fence separating the field from The Trees. She thought she could jump the hotwire, knew that only 110 volts of electricity surged through it to keep the cows out of the corn, but decided to drop to the ground and roll under the wire instead, rather than risk a shock.

The helicopter thuds became more pronounced as the giant machine apparently hovered closer, but Yonni took the time to roll several feet away from the hotwire before standing up again. She stood, her back to The Trees, searching for the helicopter which should be very near now, given the heavy pulsing of the air around her. A shadow crossed over her as she was hit with the full force of the downdraft. Yonni looked directly up, just as a net dropped. Screaming defiantly, Yonni was wenched up and into the helicopter’s open door. Immediately a black silk bag dropped over her head, preventing her from seeing her captors clearly, preventing her from seeing her last glimpse of home before the motors of the chopper revved, floor tilting at a steep angle as the helicopter swooped away from Pratt, Kansas with Yonni Hale tucked in its belly like some Peruvian thunderbird with its child prey.

Yonni panicked, some time later, when she woke with a start, still unable to see beyond the silk bag over her head, and now unable to hear a sound. Instead, she felt the steady thud of the chopper blades as it vibrated through her body, resonating, it seemed, within her breast bone. She tried to move her hands to rub her ears, but realized she was tied to her seat. The floor tilted in another direction, and she wondered if its maneuvering was what had woken her. What knocked me out is the more important question, she thought. She felt the floor bounce a bit, and assumed the helicopter was landing.

Sound returned, when someone took some headphones off Yonni’s head. A lock clicked as someone undid her wrist bonds.

Stand up. Cooperate, and you won’t be harmed, claimed a deep female voice.

Probably some sort of feminazi, like Dad’s always complaining about, thought Yonni. Yonni stood up, shakily, and immediately tried to use her freed hands to lift the silk bag.

No, not yet. Wait until the Commander gives you permission to see, said the woman.

Yonni felt hands guiding her toward the helicopter opening. She tried to use her feet and her hands to see where she was going, but could only feel the floor through her sneakers, her hands flailing in open air. Brusquely, someone then shoved her hard, and she felt herself falling out of the helicopter. Instinctively, she braced herself for a hard impact, since she couldn’t see to anticipate a hit, couldn’t roll out of it.

Surprisingly, strong arms caught her.

All right then, young lady, said an enthralling male voice. I gotchya. She was set gently on her feet. Would you like to see where you are?

Mysteriously unable to speak (her mother would have laughed at the idea), Yonni just nodded, and she felt the ties of the silk bag being loosened. First, she saw the taut stomach, covered discretely, of course, by a black silk shirt, of the man removing her veil, then his shoulders—a good foot above her eye level—and then his face. She realized she was disappointed when she saw, not a dashingly handsome young man, but a heavily scarred older man with salt and pepper hair peeking out from under a Ninja kerchief which she knew could easily become a mask, but no beard or mustache. He smiled a crooked Sean Connery grin at her.

It took her a moment to realize she should be looking around at her surroundings in order to figure out where she was, so she could plan her escape.

Glancing to her right, what she saw amazed her.

The helicopter pad was perched on the side of a granite mountain surrounded by a sea of mountains. Looks like the Rockies, she thought. A hangar was behind her, and she saw several dark clad figures pushing the helicopter inside, but couldn’t tell if there were other flying machines. Behind the Commander, at least that is who she assumed the scarred man was, was a large cement building that looked like a cross between a military barracks and a Buddhist temple. Smaller buildings hunched near it, but nothing very impressive.

Must be some sort of secret Ninja base, Yonni thought, since there was little evidence that the American government had devoted much money to this particular site, and all the personnel seemed to be garbed in black.

Just down the mountain, the treeline began, but there were few trees, mostly large, gorgeously green meadows. Yonni thought she saw sheep and goats grazing in those meadows, and wondered if Heidi had been as reluctant to move to her mountain abode as she was. Although, to be honest, Yonni had always, really, wanted to live in the mountains, which seemed so much less mundane than the flat, Pratt prairie.

Well, Yonni, what do you think? the Commander asked, smiling expectantly at her, glancing occasionally at the Feminazi ninja who had brought Yonni here. Yonni was happy to see the woman was no stunning beauty, although she grudgingly had to admit she wasn’t ugly either.

Better not give any straight answers, thought Yonni. Why did you bring me here, she asked instead.

The Commander stopped smiling, and put his hand to his chin, as though considering this question for the first time. Slowly, he began to circle Yonni, inspecting her from head to foot. She wondered if he thought she was too fat.

Good question, Yonni, he admitted, when finally stopped circling and stopped in front of her again. I’m not sure what the S.N.O.T. want with you, but we have orders to whip you into shape, so that’s what we’re going to do.

The Snot? Is that some sort of kid’s nickname? asked Yonni, trying not to sneer. After all, she’d just been kidnapped, and this guy was threatening to whip her into shape, and she didn’t like the sounds of that, but, really, what kind of a name is Snot?

S.N.O.T. is an abbreviation. It stands for the Society of Ninja Operatives Today. They, or rather, we are a secret branch of the U.S. military, but I can’t give you too many more details other than that, finished the Commander.

Why not? Would you have to kill me, if you did? wondered Yonni, thrilling, rather unexpectedly, at the idea.

Oh no, nothing like that, hastened the Commander. After all, everyone in Congress knows we exist, that is if they read the very, very fine print of the Patriot Act.

The Patriot Act? Does this have something to do with my being trained to fight terrorism? Yonni couldn’t keep the excitement out of her voice. Visions of herself strapped up in machine gun belts, toting some sort of big gun, running clandestine through the streets of some desert-like city distracted her.

Er. Not exactly, although I suppose that’s always a possibility somewhere down the line. The Commander caught a hand signal from the Feminazi and nodded his head. Well, we need to get you settled in, so your training can begin as soon as possible. He turned toward the large military temple.

What kind of training, exactly? asked Yonni, practically running to keep up with the Commander’s long strides, especially after one painful poke by the Feminazi.

Oh, a little jujitsu, a little kung fu, some other martial arts, as well, all for your physical training, of course.

Really? Yonni knew she definitely needed to control the excitement in her voice.

Oh, yes. But you also have to learn Spanish, French, Portuguese, Farsi, Japanese, and Chinese, as well as history, calligraphy, webpage construction, and some rather advanced electronics.

I have to learn foreign languages? What in the world do I need history for? What’s calligraphy? I already know how to make a webpage. Do you mean I get to learn how to put together computers? Yonni practically shouted each of these questions as the Commander listed her lessons.

Well, yes, replied the Commander vaguely. Yonni wondered which question he was answering.

Of course, there will also be survival lessons, how to survive in the woods and alone in the desert sort of stuff, so you’ll have to learn herbology, and basic hunting skills, shelter and weapon construction.

They had reached the building by this time, and Yonni was eager to begin trying some of these new things—things she had always wanted to learn, but never thought herself capable of learning, mostly because her parents could never have afforded to pay for any such lessons. Of course, her parents didn’t know half this stuff themselves, either. They stepped inside the darkened interior.

Waving his arm in a grand, sweeping gesture, he announced, You’ll sleep here. Here was a small pallet made of rough woolen Army surplus blankets laid out on the bare cement floor. Yonni couldn’t even see a pillow. The Commander bent down to look Yonni in the eye, and she smelled his freshly brushed teeth.

You have what it takes, Yonni. You just need to buckle down, develop some discipline and really work at it, and you’ll be A-Number-One in no time.

Can’t you just give me a pill, or plug me into a computer, or something that will make me know all that stuff, so I don’t have to train so hard? whined Yonni, worrying about how tough the training was going to be, if the bed she had to sleep in was going to be this hard.

Sorry, kiddo. That’s not how the real world works. You want top notch results, then you have to give top notch effort.

But do I have to suffer while doing it? Yonni thought. As she stared, disappointed and yet incredulous, at the Commander, his face began to morph, and the building began to fade, replaced by harsh sunlight dancing through the budding branches above her. Despite the sunlight, it seemed to be raining.

Yonni blinked, feeling the hard, pebbly ground below her bottom and legs, and the rough bark of the elm pressing painfully against her back, realizing with no small amount of disappointment that she hadn’t been kidnapped by government ninjas after all.

There, towering over her, sprinkling water from his water bottle on her, was her dad. Get up, sleepy head. These tomatoes aren’t going to plant themselves.

Yonni heard her teenage sisters, Lia, Taya, and Merry, giggling. She saw them standing in the large dirt field that would, once again, become the family vegetable garden. They leaned on their digging sticks as they watched their father force Yonni out of her daydream.

Yonni sighed. It was still Saturday. Still early April, and the half acre garden still needed to be planted.

Yonni felt a slightly cool breeze wrap itself around her like a bull fighter’s cape, then whip away, leaving her hot, tired, and cranky. Still. So much for a break.

Surely, somewhere, some way, life had to be easier, more exciting, more magical. Maybe Dorothy was right, and she had to go over the rainbow to find it.

Yonni sincerely hoped not. She couldn’t bear the idea of having to go find it. Maybe it would just come to her right here, if she wished upon a star hard enough.

Chapter One

There’s No Place Like Home

Yonni felt safe. She hugged one jean covered knee to her, and let the other dangle past the limb of the linden tree in which she sat, leaning gratefully back against the tree’s sturdy trunk. She inhaled deeply, smelling the sweet green grass carpeting the ground beneath The Trees, noticing the dull scent of the sand in the pit to the west, carried on a breeze that also smelled subtly like rain—or like wet dust, at least. Looking west, past the sandpit, over the fence separating her family’s farm from the wheat field beyond, she could see clouds beginning to pile up on themselves, beginning their gymnastics which would bring that rain, and would block out the setting sun. Yonni even believed she could smell the warmth of the April sunshine that shifted over the forest floor, sunshine that seemed too delighted with existing to worry about clouds and rain.

Yes, she felt very safe here.

In this copse of Trees, just down the dirt road from her family’s farm, Yonni could be alone. And she could avoid being put to work.

She inhaled deeply again, and watched the swaying of the short, green, grassy wheat that danced in the building wind. A spiral of invisible wind rotated a patch of wheat in a small, furious dance, reminding Yonni of two of her sisters, Merry and Taya, who seemed to be frenetic energy beams that couldn’t sit or stand still for long. She breathed deeply, enjoying the calmer energies of The Trees and the wheat field. Such serenity couldn’t last long, she knew.

She wished her sister, Lia, the one closest to her in age, could enjoy the solitudes of The Trees still, but Lia’s usual serenity, which Yonni had drawn on for so long, seemed to be collapsing in on itself as she grew older, turning into brooding silences which made Yonni anxious about her sister. And uncomfortable being around her.

Yonni closed her eyes and said a silent prayer, just as her Sunday school teacher had taught her, asking for strength for her favorite sister to get through whatever was troubling her. She opened one eye a little, looking toward the clouds, wondering if anyone really heard her prayers, hoping for a sign of some sort of acknowledgement that she had been heard. As usual, the teaming life around her went on about living, oblivious to her needs.

Well, what did you expect, idiot? Yonni asked aloud. Thunder? Lightning? She smiled to herself, thinking about how she would have reacted if lightning had struck a tree. Peed my pants, probably, she murmured to herself, imagining herself falling out of the tree in panic.

She looked around, suddenly worried that one of the neighbor kids might have snuck up behind her and overheard her talking to herself, but saw nothing but trees, grass, sand, and wheat. She knew she wouldn’t be able to see the nearest neighbor’s house from here, and she hadn’t seen the one really pesty boy, Dusty Scratch, for some time now, not since she had found him rummaging around in the Junk Valley to the south of The Trees. She hadn’t been there since, and missed being able to explore the littered floor of the little valley, imagining herself a famous archeologist uncovering an important relic.

She had told her father about seeing the boy there, and he had muttered something about the stupid city officials allowing dumping on private property, and warned her, sternly, again, not to go down there. You never know what filth people throw away. And you could get hurt down there, and we’d never find you, he finished somewhat lamely. Her natural fear of her father, whose temper always seemed so godlike, kept her from asking him to do something about the boy, or from arguing with him about her safety in the Junk Valley.

Momma’s not afraid of Daddy, Yonni observed to herself, noticing that the clouds on the western horizon were closer and darker than they were minutes before. She would have to decide whether to run home or play in the rain soon.

The approaching storm reminded her of her mother, Zelda Epona Malone. When Daddy was stretching Momma’s limits, and her Irish temper, as she called it, was reaching its boiling point, Yonni and her sisters took cover. Their arguments inevitably took similar forms. Daddy, Charles Atlas Hale, known as Jack to all his friends, would make a pronouncement, as though an idea about a family matter was completely settled, and Momma, known as Zel to her friends, would begin to hack away at it, if she felt he was being foolish and pigheaded, until he could see the folly in it. Or she saw the folly in hers.

What do you mean May has to pay to board her horse with us still? Zelda had demanded one day several years ago after Yonni’s oldest sister, May, had married and moved into her own home not far into town. She’s always kept Dobbins here. He’s used to the place. He knows the other horses. Would you rather she dragged him to that stable in town?

Momma always knew Daddy’s weak spots, just as he seemed to know hers. Momma knew Daddy did not respect the man who ran the main in-town stables. He thought he was cheap, provided poor shelter and scanty food for the horses.

She’s a grown woman, now, Zel. She has a job at that drive thru photo shop. Surely she can afford to at least pay the beast’s feed bill, he tried reasoning, carefully staying seated at the dining table. Jack had removed the archway that had once separated the kitchen from the dining room several years ago, so he had a clear view of Zel as she moved back and forth in the kitchen.

She just got married, Jack, Momma threw back, her back to him as she scrubbed furiously at the dishes. And you know it. She’s trying to build up a nest egg, so they can have a baby.

A baby? laughed Daddy. What does she want one of them for? Yonni remembered mentally agreeing with him. He put up his hands in mock defense as she turned, raising her dishrag high. I’m only joking.

Momma had scowled at him, turned to see Yonni and Lia watching from the stairs, and had winked at them. You better be, she had growled in her best threatening tones.

Daddy had stood up then, and moved up behind her. I don’t think May Ester Hale…

Waters, now, reminded Momma somewhat bitterly.

…will mind helping us save some money, so Lia can learn the flute, now, will she? he murmured the last into her ear as he put his arms around her.

Momma had carefully rinsed her hands, and draped the rag over the faucet before she turned to him, gently stroking her wet hands over his cheeks, smiling as he grimaced at her wet touch. Well, since you put it that way. I suppose we could use a bit of money for horse feed once a month to help pay for Lia’s flute.

While Yonni knew both her parents could be reasonable human beings, sometimes, she nonetheless felt closer to her mother than to her father, and sometimes was shocked at how much she felt resentment toward him. Her mother, she felt, was more often more reasonable than her father. Like now.

Yonni had escaped the limits of the farm to reach her favorite source of comfort, other than her mother’s arms, and solitude to think about, well, really to fume about, her father’s decision that she could not get a dog. She had hoped she would be able to convince him that a dog would be a perfect birthday present, and she was going to be eleven in a couple of months. A friend in their church had a cocker spaniel which had been too friendly with some sort of terrier, and the family planned to give away the impure puppies.

Yonni found herself wishing for a dog more than anything, and had gotten quite upset when her father had said, No, under no uncertain terms are you going to get a dog. It would just be a nuisance, under my feet, barking all the time.

No amount of begging had helped. Tears hadn’t either. Yonni had even thought about throwing a tantrum, throwing herself on the ground, kicking her legs, flailing her arms, just as Lia used to do when she didn’t get what she wanted, but didn’t think she could bring herself to be that melodramatic. Instead, she had run off, toward The Trees.

Her father, she decided, just did not understand her loneliness. He couldn’t see it, she thought, because she did, after all, have six sisters, although three were already grown and married. She knew he would never understand how she could possibly be lonely. He just didn’t understand what it was like being the youngest of a large family.

May Ester Waters, Yonni’s oldest sister at 24, got her wish and gave birth to two children, a girl, Lily, now three, and a boy, Adam, Jr., now nine months old. Her husband, Adam, several years older than May, dotes on their daughter, but boasts about his son continuously. Yonni likes being an aunt because it means she can boss around somebody younger than herself. Momma had been disappointed when May had held up the patriarchal tradition of changing her name to her husband’s surname when she had married. Zelda had hoped she had raised her daughters to be stronger, more independent, women than that.

Alice Sky, 22, who seemed to do everything she could to outdo May, had ironically married a Walker two years ago, so usually avoided telling people her new full name, which she, too, had chosen to take. Alice cried when her mother asked her why she had done such a darn fool thing, but merely whimpered that she didn’t want her husband to be made fun of. Her husband, Matt Walker, thought it a great joke to tell people he had married Luke’s other sister, Alice Sky Walker. Alice hadn’t waited as long between babies as May had, and has a one year old girl, Leia, on the hip and another in the oven, as her father likes to quip. Jack had warned Alice already that this next baby had better not be another stinking girl. Although Yonni couldn’t imagine what Alice could do to change her baby’s gender.

Elektra Zephyma, who preferred to be called Ella, was barely 20 years old and had also married two years ago, a month after Alice, in fact. Yonni, better at math than her teachers gave her credit for, also knew that Ella had been pregnant when she’d hastily married Ed Oppus. She hadn’t been dating Ed long enough for him to be the father, Yonni thought, but had never voiced her concerns to anyone except the wind. She had been relieved, for some reason, when Ella had told her she didn’t ever plan on having more children, other than their little Eva. Ella and Ed’s biggest relationship problem, as far as Yonni could tell, seemed to be that Ella was not enough like Ed’s mother for his satisfaction. She didn’t count the fact that Ella had trouble keeping a job because she never finished high school. Ella was by far the best cook of all her sisters, and that strength made up for a lot of other weaknesses, to Yonni at least.

Merope Kaye, who preferred to be called Merry Kaye, and dreamed of someday being able to sell the cosmetics of similar name, was 18 and was graduating next month from Pratt High School, which was an embarrassment to her because of their frog mascot. Fighting greenbacks, she often moaned. How can frogs fight? Yonni knew Merry was too oblivious to Pratt’s history to know why the high school had chosen a frog mascot. Yonni, on the other hand, had found her mother’s lecture on the topic amusing.

Merry’s boyfriend, Gary Green, who had gone to nearby Skyline School, which was a school Pratt County had erected for rural students, was planning to immediately join the Navy after he graduated this year, so had already proposed to Merry. Merry just had to be a June bride, which gave her just enough time to plan their wedding before he shipped out to California for his basic training. Both Gary and Merry longed to live by the ocean, although everyone assumed Gary would be shipped overseas soon after his training. Yonni was worried that their marriage and the subsequent expenses for it, which her father grumbled about, would mean she herself wouldn’t get very extravagant birthday presents this year. Not that she ever did anyway.

Taya Dawn was just 17, and a year behind Merry in school, but she had announced that she was going to drop out of school and become a model shortly after Merry and Gary had announced their engagement to the family at Zelda’s 45th birthday party in March. Yonni wasn’t so unaware of what was going on that she didn’t see Taya’s bottom lip stick out as Gary had kissed Merry after their announcement. Taya had immediately stood up, trying to steal their thunder, and announced she was leaving for California, too, that a modeling agency there had asked her to come. Everyone had sat in stunned silence for several breaths before Momma and Daddy had both, at once, said, No. Merry had looked crestfallen. She and Taya had always done everything together, since they were so close in age, and Yonni thought she looked a little guilty for having abandoned her younger sister. She also seemed to look a bit angry, probably at not being able, finally, to get rid of Taya’s continual trailing behind her.

Celia Aurora, whom everyone called Lia, was just 15. She had been sitting close to Zelda as their mother had opened birthday presents, but when Taya had announced she was leaving for Hollywood, Lia had slipped off the couch to the floor, melted into the corner of the room, and braced herself for the coming argument. Lia hated confrontations and was more adept at avoiding them than anyone Yonni knew. Lia’s future goals included becoming a dolphin trainer, except that Lia doesn’t seem to have taken into account that Kansas doesn’t have dolphins.

Yonni, ten years old soon to be 11, had simply walked out the back door when the fighting started. She had thought about running down to The Trees, but it was already dark by then, so she had sat in the porch swing her father had attached to an old swing set and placed under the huge elm on the other side of the dirt driveway that circled the house, and swung and sung to herself to cover the raised voices in the house. On that March day, which seemed so long ago now, while she had sung, she had fervently hoped no one would drop any more bombshells during her birthday party on June 19, the day after Merry and Gary’s newly announced wedding, and had fantasized about all the fun she could have if her father would just let her have a dog.

But now she knew definitely that her father would not let her have a dog for her birthday. And the solitude she had craved to get away from the frictions in the house now loomed over her as loneliness. Why couldn’t she be happy? Why couldn’t life be lovely and fine?

Looking west again, she saw the tall, walking rain begin its march over the huge wheat field. She thought it would take about twenty minutes for the sheets of steady rain to reach her, so she knew she had plenty of time to run to the house.

Instead of dropping down from the tree, however, she felt the saltiness of her sorrow rise in her throat. Pulling her knees together on the branch, which was rather high off the ground, she leaned her forehead on them and gave into the racking sobs that forced themselves up from deep inside her.

Nobody cares about me, she thought to herself. Sighing, she released the words into the air in separate sobs for each word.

She wiped her nose on the back of her hand, which she wiped on her jeans. She looked up through her tears and tried to think humbling, quiet thoughts, like all the sensei in the movies tell their pupils to do. She imagined herself on the tree limb. She imagined that she was receding into the skies, seeing this girl who cried selfish tears, get further and further away. High into the sky went her imagination, so high she could see the tops of the clouds, and the flashes of lightning within them. So high did her imagination fly that she could see the earth, which appeared to fall from the sky toward the sun, and then she was past the planets and the asteroid belt, and the sun became just one of millions, no, zillions of stars.

That’s how unimportant I am, she muttered. I’m just star dust, so I shouldn’t feel sorry for myself.

She snuffled loudly, then heard the deep muttering rumble of thunder. Looking toward the storm again, she was surprised to see the rain just minutes away, and walking quickly towards her.

Taking a deep breath, resolutely, she slid down out of the tree, letting her feet slip down the log propped against the large tree’s base until she could jump safely, and walked toward the large stretch of sand, like some rosy beach, between The Trees and the fence that protected the neighbor’s wheat field from her family’s cows and horses. Her dad said the sand was the remains of a sand pit, and that similar sand pits littered Pratt County because of the Dust Bowl. Her mother, though, had told Yonni later that this part of Kansas was so sandy because it has once been the shore of an ancient ocean.

She wondered what it would be like living next to that ancient sea. Her imagination changed the undulating green field of wheat into a storm tossed shallow ocean spreading out before her. Quickly, humming Skunk Johnson to herself, she ran across the sand, as much to avoid the quick sand she worried was there, as to keep the particles of sand out of her tennis shoes, pretending she was crossing the ancient ocean’s beach.

Quickly eying the height of the wheat and deciding it was barely knee high, Yonni lifted the top barbed wire and slid beneath, being careful not to snag her blouse or jeans on the bottom wire. As she stood erect again, the sound of thunder rumbled again, partly drowned out by the steady rhythm of the rain as it marched across the wheat field.

Yonni knew she wasn’t supposed to be in the wheat field, that she would trample some of their neighbor’s young wheat in being there, but that knowledge lent exhilaration to her: she was doing something forbidden. And she began to run toward the rain, arms stretched out to her sides as though to embrace the rain itself. And the rain marched to meet her, absorbing her quickly into its embrace, and dousing her thoroughly as she continued to run deeper into it.

The rain was soft, and warm, and smelled of the earth, slightly dusty but clean at once. Yonni lifted her face to the rain and imagined herself being baptized by this holiest of waters, imagining it washing away her fears, worries, and loneliness as it drenched her body. She imagined black flakes of selfishness being pelted off of her in tiny bits, and she tried to feel loved, unconditionally. She spun in a circle and fell dizzily to earth, softly cushioned by the still pliable wheat stalks, looking directly up at the rain as it continued to fall, coming straight toward her. She opened her mouth to catch some drops, and spluttered as she giggled, thinking about what she must look like in the middle of this spring down pour, lying in the middle of this green wheat field.

Her parents would be furious, she thought, which made her sit up and stop giggling. The rain had slowed down, and, looking east now, Yonni realized the down pour that led the storm had largely passed, to be followed now by the steadier, but slower yet somehow fiercer rain of the storm. Lightning flashed to the south, toward town, which Yonni could see clearly several hundred yards or so away past the wheat field. Another flash, much closer, came from the northwest, and Yonni realized that she was currently the tallest thing in this wheat field, thus vulnerable to a lightning strike.

Quickly, yet crouching as low as she could go and still run, Yonni ran to the fence and slipped through it, reluctantly holding the barbed wires apart, fearful that she would feel electricity zipping down them at any moment. Heedless of the sand particles, she ran quickly over the sand pit and into the shelter of the trees. At least she was no longer the tallest thing on the plains, but she knew she wasn’t safe under The Trees, either. Countless school videos had warned of the dangers of lightning strikes under trees.

Feeling something like a deer being pursued by a pack of dogs, Yonni ran through The Trees, leaping logs, and ducking branches, toward the road that ran alongside the alfalfa pasture and the vegetable garden, the long rows of new corn seeming to stretch for miles. Before leaving The Trees, she looked out and up, trying to judge how bad the storm was. Thunder rumbled like a spilled wheel barrow of potatoes, sounding as though giant tubers were falling directly over head, but Yonni knew the lightning that had caused the sound could still be miles away. She waited until she saw a flash, then counted alligator seconds under her breath. Once she heard the thunder, she knew that the lightning had struck at least twenty miles away, so she began a slow jog down the road toward the farm house. About halfway there, she slowed to a walk and realized she no longer heard thunder.

Stopping at the edge of the vegetable garden, she examined the sky, and saw that the clouds were continuous now, completely blanketing the sky. Small fat funnel fingers occasionally appeared and disappeared in the heavier mammatus clouds hanging pendulously from the sky, but none appeared to be the swiftly rotating vortexes that become tornadoes. The wind, however, had picked up and seemed to be pushing Yonni toward the house.

Yonni resisted, sitting determinedly in the swing under the large elm.

You don’t scare me, she yelled into the wind, as it buffeted the swing.

The wind began to feel like fingers straightening out the knots in her hair, caressing her face, and tugging at her clothes.

Yonni smiled, enjoying the sensations. Thanks, she whispered into the wind.

And, abruptly, or so it seemed, the wind died down. The clouds to the southwest were dark, and thunder rumbled again. The rain had almost ceased to fall, or at least the tree was blocking what little still fell.

The hairs on Yonni’s arms and legs stood on end, and she felt the top of her scalp begin to prickle. Fearing lightning, Yonni quickly dropped to her knees in the

Reviews for Yonni Hale and the Cosmic Wind

[harlandcooper · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Yonni Hale and the Cosmic Wind is a story of a young girl learning about the magic in life. The magic that she encounters comes both in the form of the spirits of the wind and appreciation for the magic around us in everyday life. This combination draws similarities from the “urban fantasy” genre while still maintaining its core identity of teen fiction. That in my opinion is its weakest point; the writing is at times it strongest when not from the perspective of the young protagonist. This leads me to believe the author would be much better suited to writing something for a more mature author, but as things stand Yonni Hale is plenty capable of holding her own with other teen fiction stars. She just needs the teens to find her.

[katyas_26 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Book Info: Genre: FantasyReading Level: Middle Grade, or Young Adult, or Adult—see commentsRecommended for: Book Available: Please note: this book is only available at Smashwords to my knowledge, linked here where formatting allowed. To view links and other formatting, please visit my blog, Now is Gone.Trigger Warnings: bullying, murder, attempted assault, hints of sexual slavery and rape, attempts to destroy a neighborhood for profit, maybe kidnappingMy Thoughts: I've had this book sitting waiting for a review for about a year and a half. To my intense amazement, when I went looking, I saw that no one else had it on their shelves on Goodreads, it didn't even exist on Shelfari or Amazon, no one had reviewed it on Smashwords (which is the only site on which it is available to buy as far as I can tell) and there are only four short reviews on LibraryThing, which is where I originally won a copy! This astonishes me, as I've never seen something like this before. It's really a pity, because it's a quite decent story featuring an almost-eleven-year-old girl with a vivid imagination.There are a few formatting problems early on, in the several pages of quotes from other books about the wind that begin the book, where the font changes size and is almost too small to read a times, but once I was into the actual book that ended, and it's easy enough to change the font size on my Nook to see the smaller areas, so all it did was slow me down a little.I will say that while this is a decent story, a good content and line editing would really make it shine. There aren't a lot of spelling or grammar errors (a few, like “heal” for “heel” are fairly endemic, though), but it could still use some cleaning up. For instance, at one point Yonni talks to one of her friends, and walks away. Rather than remaining in Yonni's head, like we have all the way so far, suddenly we're in her friend's head for a paragraph. There are also a lot of tense shifts from present to past to a couple future tenses that will probably drive some readers nuts. Also, it is repeatedly said throughout the book that Yonni is 10, but also that she is in 6th grade, which is not possible unless she was skipped ahead a year. Otherwise the law requires that a child be at least 11 before they are in the 6th grade, or have their 11th birthday within a certain period of time after starting 6th grade.While it seems I have a lot of criticisms, I really did love this story and this book. There is mention of a sequel, called Yonnie Hale and the South Wind, but I do not know if this sequel actually exists. If it does, I would love to read it. However, I would strongly encourage the author to have this book further edited. What is a very enjoyable and fun read could be something truly amazing with just a little more polishing. There was a chapter toward the back where I literally cheered aloud, and then two of my favorite series were mentioned: Harry Potter and the Dark is Rising, which also feature (at least initially) 10-year-old going on 11 characters.The reading level on this one is a little hard to assign. The main bulk of the story is about Yonnie Hale, who is 10 through most of the book, which would be middle grade (MG). However, a lot of the issues deal with reaching maturity and taking control of your own destiny, so that leads me to think that it might be better for Young Adult (YA) readers. But then there are the chapters with the mayor, in which we receive an in depth look at a truly despicable character doing truly despicable things, some of which are very adult in nature. So that leaves me thinking this is a very adult book in many ways. I would recommend that any consideration for younger readers be filtered through their maturity level. While I might have had trouble with this one when I was 10 myself, I think by 12 I would have been fine with it, while other people I know might not have been able to really understand some of the themes until they were much older.A lot of the magical ideas in this are particularly interesting. I love how the author has worked in so many different cultures. If only it were better edited I would be willing to recommend this wholesale to almost anyone, but as it is, too many people I know would not be able to see past some of the issues and just enjoy this wonderful, excellent story. It's been a year and a half since I received this book and in this time not a single person has reviewed it on Goodreads or Smashwords, and only four on LibraryThing. I had to physically add it to Shelfari myself. In some ways this is very good, as that means there has not been any negative attention put on it yet. I would recommend that the author take the time to have this gone over professionally and then re-release it on a wider market. I truly this that with just a little more work this could be a major hit among the crowd that has been missing Harry Potter. I hope the author will see this review and take this advice to heart, and also take the same steps to polish the next book in this series. This has already been an extraordinarily long review, but it's an extraordinary book, and I can only hope that my passion for it will help in some small way to reach a larger audience. Meanwhile, if you're interested, go to Smashwords, grab your own copy, look past the few problems and see the bigger picture, because I think this one is a real winner. I can't give it the full 5 stars, no matter how much I want to, because of the flaws, but I am willing to give it 4 just on its overall merits. Check it out. It's truly magical.Disclosure: I received a copy of this book through the LibraryThing Members' Giveaway program in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.Synopsis: She was warned. She tried to avoid it. But Yonni Hale had to learn that life is not safe, not even in her small Kansas hometown of Pratt. After having a vision, strange horse-women begin haunting her dreams, calling her to obey the will of the Cosmic Wind. Balancing good and evil, the Cosmic Wind recruits Yonni to stand against greedy men who desire nothing but power and money, no matter who they harm in the process. When her friends' homes are in danger because of the greedy mayor's real estate scam, Yonni must use her abilities to control the wind to help her friends save their homes. In the process, though, she exposes her family to danger, and must decide what is more important: justice or her family.

[firstcitybook · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Yonni Hale and the Cosmic Wind, written by Rajah Hill, focuses on the growth and perceptions of a young girl as she comes to learn of her personal power and her connectedness with women of all ages and with nature. One of a series of projected books containing the character Yonni Hale, and set in Kansas, this novel captures elements of small-town life, where the division between those with money and those without money is readily apparent. Those who run the town seek yet more influence and make an effort to destroy the lives of others. While her large family allows Yonni to grow up assured of love and support, she is not willing to let any of her friends suffer because of the power exhibited by those businessmen with money. Yonni, as she gains strength and control over her personal power, harnesses nature to protect those she cares about. The novel develops Yonni’s transformation and her control over this power. At the same time, the novel lingers over such things as the strength of Yonni’s mother, her parents’ relationship, Yonni’s relationship with her sisters, and her introduction to the professors and the knowledge available at the local college. It’s a thoroughly enjoyable novel, and although there are things worth savoring, there is enough suspense to cause one to stay up reading into the night.

[mayester_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Like the main character of this novel, I, too, have lots of imagination. I found myself liking Yonni Hale, the 11 year old narrator of Cosmic Wind, because she seemed real. She’s imaginative, insecure, worries too much about trivial things, but learns how important friends and family are. Through a series of what seem to be dream sequences, Yonni meets and holds deep conversations with the Cosmic Wind, who are five horse/spirits/women of multiple ethnicities led by one horse-spirit in particular, Grandmother Muhawt. What I found most believable about Yonni’s new powers given to her by Grandmother Muhawt is that she doesn’t have the slightest clue about how to use them until her mysterious neighbor, Sandy Scratch, (which my mother says is another name for the devil!) gives her some lessons. Sandy, too, is a complex character who I would like to know more about. As the novel progresses, Yonni learns that magic is all around her, as are people who know about it and practice it—from mysterious college professors to Sandy Scratch’s mother, who makes yummy cinnamon rolls! I like to learn new things and this novel covered so much—from ethnic issues in small Kansas towns to how the “Plain” folk live. I’m eager to see where the next book in the series goes!

[hillella · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Yonni Hale and the Cosmic Wind, written by Rajah Hill, is not a typical young adult novel about magic. Hill defies two common conventions used in such novels: the orphan or parentless child as protagonist and the “other” realm where the magic happens. The orphan motif, which could also be called the Disney Destiny, is guaranteed to cause immediate sympathy for readers of such novels. Yet Yonni Hale, the protagonist of this novel, not only retains both parental figures in her life, but also has six sisters, sisters who add color and a bit of drama to her eleven year old, soon to be twelve, life. Yonni is, in fact, a bit self-centered, as real children tend to be, but she also has a strong imagination, and the plot involves Yonni attempting to sort through what is imaginary and what is real. While most magic-oriented young adult novels transport the characters to another realm where magic is practiced freely—such as through a brick wall or down a rabbit hole—Yonni’s magical abilities grow within her in ordinary hometown, Pratt, Kansas—a real place on a map of Kansas, if you care to look. The story builds slowly, but is well worth the effort.