A New Exciting Shard Short Story From ‘Rising Wind Series Book 5 – ROCK MY SOUL.’


Dazzling Visitations

(Editor’s note: Heidi Cobblehoff was used as a pen name of anonymity for my cousin Patty Peacock, who would now like to acknowledge that she is the source for this story from “Rising Wind Rock My Soul.”)

The Lizard men

Rising Wind Shard Story From Book One ‘Thunder Beings’ – Part Two ‘Gideon’s Dilemma.’

The sister of the one who seeks the little humans.

Wakinyan grew ever more distant, only a speck now, and then gone. I was hyperventilating when I opened my eyes, and my knuckles were white as I snatched the walker to find Jane and Iris folding clothes for their trip to research the Duendes.

Who was Secora James, and how could the two of us find Wakinyan – let alone help a mythical creature?

“Okay, girls, hold everything! I’m coming with you.” I panted and teetered stiffly. Jane rushed to steady me. “Just get me out of here, will you?”

“Change of heart?” asked Iris.

“You can hardly walk, brother, and your right arm is just about useless.”

My teeth clenched against a wave of pain. “I’m getting better. Listen, Iris, I need to talk to your sister. I’ll pay my way and cover any additional expenses. No interest.” That snagged their attention.

“Maybe Jimmy can come along to help me get around. I need help packing, Kyah can y…?”

Kyah and Jimmy were already silently standing by. “Kyah, road trip?”

“Ready.”

“Hetchetu aloh. One big happy family. So be it.” Jimmy smiled. I rolled my eyes at my unsought mentor and sighed. “Whatever.”

After we arrived in Bolivia, it was extremely difficult to find her. She must have been chased, attacked, and injured on several occasions, according to my visions. By then, I was thinking that not only Wakinyan needed her, but for some reason, so did I. I fretted until Jimmy and I got a lead on a church in LaPaz from a postcard that seemed like the one I’d seen in the most recent vision, which seemed more painful than the others.

My hand was shaking as I held up the postcard image of the church I’d envisioned and compared it to the stone edifice that towered before us in La Paz. The Basilica de San Francisco. It was dedicated to St. Francis of Assisi. The beautiful cathedral, an example of Andean Baroque architecture, had been completed in 1758, or so the postcard said. I grinned. “This is the place where I will finally find Secora.”

However, my intuition hadn’t told me how long Jimmy and I would need to wait in the church courtyard. It had already been a couple of hours. It was time for the elusive Secora James to make her predicted appearance.

Half an hour later, I pointed. “That’s gotta be her.” The woman was wearing a tight white dress with broad brown stripes along the sides. We were sitting close enough to catch a bare whiff of her floral perfume, which we inhaled deeply.

I stood with my cane, stretched, then began a hobbling approach, wondering, at long last, how to introduce myself.

Jimmy grabbed my sleeve. “Hey, you sure? Doesn’t look much like the picture Iris gave us.”

I braced against the cane and responded impetuously. “Has to be her, Jimmy. Look around; no one else is even a candidate, and I know she’s here. I can feel it.”

Jimmy Lizardeye chuckled and said, “Remember how Iris laughed when she told us that Secora’s fashion statement was ‘huh?’.No sense of style. Fringe and boots, not tight dress and perfume.”

I faded into disappointment as we again sat on the bench to wait.

The plaza filled and emptied a few times. I could tell Jimmy was tired. He’d even taken off the beaded shoulder bag, which held the sacred pipe, and set it beside him. Jimmy grinned as a black car parked long enough to drop some people off.

I saw two men jump from the back seat and pull out someone, possibly a woman. When the vehicle left, they all looked around surreptitiously before moving down the steps toward the church. The cloaked person appeared to be limping badly. Jimmy asked, “What about that one?”

“The cripple? I can’t even tell if it’s a woman. At any rate, no fringe, and… okay, so there are boots. Darn. If that is Secora, who are the guys?”

The walk from the car looked rough. The suspected woman’s steps were hesitant, and she was panting- or was that weeping? The young man without a hat half-dragged her forward. She seemed to be drawing back and pleading with him. Jimmy hefted his beaded sacred pipe bag. “Maybe they’re trying to baptize her?”

I regarded Jimmy, my face twisted in consternation. “Or maybe they are abducting her.” I took a cleansing breath. “Man, I’m not even sure I want to mess with that.”

“What does Wakinyan want?”

I could hear crying now. “Maybe we’re already too late.” I limped forward, slowly at first, psyching myself up for a confrontation. When I was only a few feet away, I froze, puzzled by a comment made by the man with the hat.

“We must get you out of sight now. Those people will not stop until you are dead.” The woman’s voice said. “This is crazy. Other people need you.” The curly-haired one said, “No, we’re in this together. What will be, will be.” She wobbled, grabbing for a bench. Then she pulled the hat and ruana away so she could see.

I hurriedly hobbled with my cane, coming up on the trio to confront the men, and managing to alarm everyone. The older man with the hat said, “Step away from her.”

I turned my eyes onto the unexpectedly attractive woman. “Are you Secora James?” She stared boldly back. “What do you want?” “I’m Gideon Yellow Thunder, and I’ve come through hell to find you.”

“I’m Guillermo, said the middle-aged man with the hat. He held his hand between Secora and me. Then, twisting his palm into an offer to shake, he said, “Sorry about the trip through infierno, son. She’s safe with me and my son, Diego.”

Secora’s mouth dropped open as she squinted at Guillermo.

“You’re kidding–he’s your son?” Guillermo nodded with a grin. Diego was also smiling and nodding. She told Jimmy and me that these men were healers, Kallawayas, who recently saved her from poisoning. I stammered, “What? That makes no sense. I’m supposed to be the one who saves you.”

Jimmy stepped between us and looked into Guillermo’s eyes. He turned to me. “Gideon, you can believe what he says. This man and his son are entirely dedicated to the service of the Great Mystery.”

I was in shock as I looked away, unsure how I felt about this whole thing. It was nothing like I’d expected. Diego suggested anxiously, “Perhaps we should rest inside the church to dodge prying eyes.” He took Secora by the arm and helped her to stand. As we crossed the plaza, she asked Jimmy, “So tell me, who are you?”

“Name’s Jimmy Lizzardeye, Wichasha Wakan from Pine Ridge at your service. And my momentarily speechless friend is Gideon Yellow Thunder, who is also from Pine Ridge, but he won’t admit it.”

“Really, Pine Ridge?” Secora’s smile could have lifted the clouds. “Very pleased to make your acquaintance, Wichasha Wakan, and you too, Gideon.” Still puzzled, I scratched my head. “This doesn’t feel right. I expected to rescue you, but my plans didn’t include dealing with two other heroes.”

Guillermo nodded. “Secora and my son Diego have become very close. It was a fabled love at first sight. Their souls recognized each other immediately.” Shaking my head, I said, “I just don’t get that. There was nothing about him, or you in my visions. I’m just trying to wrap my mind around everything.

“I imagine that would be very disturbing. We are taking her to our island to hide and protect her until we can figure out why she is being attacked. She is still quite weak, and we need to keep her out of sight.”

Diego turned to me. “So, who are you, Mr Yellow Thunder?”

“I am beginning to wonder about that, myself.” I snapped. I’ve been trying to find Secora for weeks to save her. Even though we have never met before. ”I slowly shook my head and tapped the cane by the kneeling bench. Diego stared at the cane. What happened to the leg?” “That was the lightning strike. But my friend thinks a sniper took a shot at me at the same time.”

“Those people must not like you very much.” The Kallawaya slid to the side to get a better look. “You should seriously change your lifestyle.”

I glanced sidelong at Jimmy. “So I’ve been told. Look, Diego, Secora and I were meant to be together. Wakinyan said she needs us, and we won’t survive without her.” Diego solemnly acknowledged, “So, I’m not sure who this Wakinyan is, but you’re saying it is your destiny to work with Secora?”

“More than that. I think we’re supposed to be together.” I paused.

“What if she decides she wants more from me?” Diego laughed, “Oh, so you like her? She is pretty, no?

You are most welcome to find out. I think she will do what she will do.
No matter what we wish . . .

***********

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Rising Wind Shard Story From Book One ‘Thunder Beings’ – Part One ‘Gideon’s Dilemma.’



Gideon’s Dilemma – Part One

“All the time I wondered who Secora James was, and how we both could possibly find, let alone help, a mythical creature.“

Wakinyan Tanka, the Great Thunderbird, contacted me in a dream while I was in the hospital healing from a lightning strike. She was perched atop a misty cliff and stood at least eight feet tall as far as I could tell. Her stare had a primitive fierceness that made me feel paralyzed, unable to move or speak. She was aware and said telepathically, “All life is tenacious.” You have survived what most men would not. My kind has survived what many of the large ones from a cooler time did not.

She marked the statement by raising a Mohawk of crimson-tipped feathers that ran from the crest of her head partway down the back of her gray-black neck. Awestruck, I noticed that her face and lower neck were lighter in color, but overall, there was a golden eagle-like impression and, just maybe, a little hawk thrown in. Yet, there were also definite differences.

‘I am Wakinyan Tanka. Long ago, humans relied on the grace of my people to lift their prayers by the wind of our wings to the Great Mystery of which we are all a part of.’ To those who sought our aid all over the earth, we were the embodiment of effortless grace, the Winged Power who protected and destroyed. Her back feathers were gray-tinged, and there was bluish skin on her face near the eyes and beak. The beak was large and primitive, unlike that of modern raptors. It looked like an upside-down canoe, meant to carve deeply into her prey.

Listen. Do not let your attention stray. I showed myself to you in a vision before the lightning strike because you were in danger. You came outside where I could save you. The Thunder Beings are in trouble, and I am calling on you for help. She adjusted her balance.

In these times, wherever we fly, we are targeted and harassed. Soon, greedy men will want to imprison us and keep us from our lives in the sky. She shifted her massive wings. When the chest muscles moved, I was struck by how beautiful the gold-tinged breast feathers were.

Wakinyan continued, “All life is sacred; even a bug chooses to live.” But change is the way of nature, and many animals and plants I knew are gone since the ice came and went. Only a few remain, even as they slide away with rising heat and drying land. For your kind, change is difficult. Two-leggeds hold onto vestiges of the past as sacred, often with disregard for the sacredness of the now.

She dropped her head, but the reddish-gold eyes never left mine. I, Gideon Yellow Thunder, a successful realtor in Missoula, Montana, was shocked. I purposefully had not chosen the way of the Oglala Lakota. The bird spread her dark, glistening wings, which seemed to exceed the length of a large school bus. Wakinyan’s final thought reached me.

Your life is changing; mine may well be ending. I call on you now to help my people, the Thunderbirds. Either we will continue a while longer, or we will end very soon. It is a thing to be decided by the Great Mystery, not for humans to control. The Wakinyan must accept whatever path is chosen for them by the One who gives life to all. And you must accept the new path chosen for you, or perish. The great bird cupped her wings and rose silently, effortlessly, from the cliff on which she perched. An updraft tickled her wing feathers, which became gilded with sunlight. Still, her eyes seemed to pierce me…

Still recovering from the lightning strike, I was taken to the trailer owned by my sister Jane and her 12-year-old son, Kyah. My eyes were riveted on the winking sun during a beautiful daybreak near Porcupine Creek, in South Dakota. There was an undeniable peace. I was alone except for an irritated roan horse that was stomping a foot, trying to dislodge a botfly that was laying eggs on its hair.


It was late June, but the breeze was tinged with crispness as I savored coffee on the porch, taking in the surrounding beauty and trying to block out every stress that still clung to me. I have to admit, there were times the reservation seemed like heaven. That peace was interrupted when my sister’s friend Iris Snowden arrived to plan their summer trip to South America. Try as I might, I could not ignore the trail of dust that followed a small red car off Bigfoot Road and up the drive.

“Hey, Jane! Somebody’s coming.” I slid my walker out of the way as my sister banged through the trailer door, squinted, and said, “Ah, that would be Iris,” as she trotted down the steps. “It’s been nearly a week since her sister, Secora, left for Brazil, and we still need to finalize our fieldwork travel plans.”

Jane and Iris, who worked for the Anthropology Department in Missoula, plotted and schemed while I sat on the porch and listened to the cricket music. A close family friend, Jimmy Lizardeye, climbed the steps and pulled up the second chair. He was a holy man, but I wasn’t open to that sort of thing.

“Hey, Jimmy, what’s up?”

Jimmy offered me a soda he’d brought with him. “Are you ready to deal with your haunting visits from Wakinyan Tanka?”

Instant panic creased my face as I answered in a whispered voice, “Sh… man, what are you talking about? You know I don’t believe in that nonsense.”

“Deny it all you want. But a Wichasha Wakan is not entirely without abilities.” “What is a Wichasha Wakan again?”

“A holy man. Just think of me as a kind of priest who is ready to share with you the way of the Akecheta Heyoka, and help you unravel the power of your visions. That is, if you are ready.”

“No, I’m not ready!” I rubbed my eye. “I’m not looking to participate in any secret rituals!”

After a long evening of planning and squabbles, I went to lie down for a rest, but another vision awaited me. It was evening, and the wind was blowing. Wakinyan was soaring so high she couldn’t be seen from the earth.

She cut through the atmosphere at incredible speed as she looked directly at me and said, ‘Arise, Heyoka.’ You must find the one who will save us both. We cannot endure that which is coming alone. You need what she can teach you to redeem yourself.

Who? Is her name Secora? . . . Part Two Coming Soon!

***********

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Courtesy of Wikipedia – Glen Eyrie
(eagle’s nest) Colorado Springs