Portfolio Table of Contents

I am planning to have a theme of similar stories, although I am not sure what that theme is yet. I like the idea of a portfolio that has a continuous flow to it, where, even though the stories aren't related to eachother, they have the same main idea.

Scarlet and Flynn: This is a story about an unexpected young love. Based on Apuleius's characters Cupid and Psyche, Scarlet and Flynn are mysterious teenagers who just want to fit in.

The Mountain of Flowers and Fruits: The Monkey King uses his magical powers to try to stop a government plot to wipe-out the last talking monkey species.

When the Storm God Rides: When a hurricane hits during their family reunion, the twins, Joey and Elliot, listen to the story of the Storm God and his bird Hurakan.

Rockabye Baby: After the mother dies in child birth, the father is left to take care of their newborn daughter. These are his journal entries throughout the tragedy.

The Fox and the Ox: An ambitious frog named Puff is washed away from the safety of his home in the sewers of France and is thrown into the giant world.

Story: The Fox and the Ox

The Frog and the Ox illustrated by John Rae.

I chose this picture because the perspective of the drawing, which is from the original story, makes the frog almost appear as large as the ox. The frog in the story thinks he is as big as the fox, so I thought the picture was relevant.

A frog named Puff lived in a corner of Croaky Cavern with his family. Croaky Cavern is an underground frog civilization that has been thriving in the sewers of Paris for over one hundred years. Puff and his family had never left Croaky Cavern and they didn’t intend to because, to them, it was paradise. Also, they had heard the horror stories from other frogs who had travelled beyond the sewer. Everyone who left Croaky Cavern always returned with the same response: “I felt so small and invisible.” This, however, did not crush Puff’s dreams of one day venturing outside of Croaky Cavern and exploring the world.

            Before our story began, Puff spent most his days alone on a lily pad or seeking his family’s approval; he was born the runt of the family, so he was constantly being overshadowed by his siblings. He knew that his parents had other children to take care of too, but Puff simply wanted them to notice him. However, there was one minor detail that put him at a disadvantage: he thought he was big. Now, when I say “big,” I mean elephant-big, not bullfrog-big. Puff’s sight was distorted at birth and his depth perception had been skewed ever since. Until now, Puff had never come in contact with larger animals, since the only creatures he knew were the other frogs and occasional rats who lived in the sewer. This was what kept Puff’s belief that he was big alive. He also wanted to make a big difference in the world. He knew that even though he was small, he could take on the world like any giant animals would. His voice could be heard at night echoing throughout the sewer. “See me puff!” he would call out to his brothers and sisters. He blew up like a pufferfish and Puff was convinced that doing this made him become giant. His family would laugh at him, but it never discouraged Puff.

            One night, a rumbling came from one end of the sewer. Puff had been awake practicing his puffing, when the water hit him like a wall. The sewer was completely full of rushing water, sweeping away everything in its path, including Croaky Cavern. Puff could swim underwater, but the current made it nearly impossible to see anything. He had no idea where his parents were, and he knew they would probably never see each other again. After minutes of struggling, Puff finally shut his eyes and let the water carry him far, far away from the only place he had ever known.

            Puff’s squishy body slammed against the hard earth and he was jolted awake. He must have dozed off during his strangely peaceful ride through the tunnels of France. The sun was beating down on him now, which was strange, but, not unfamiliar to Puff. The occasional ray of sunshine would stream through the sewer grate when he lived in Croaky Cavern, and Puff had always enjoyed these moments when he could bask in the sun. Now, Puff could hear and see thousands of frogs all around him. Finding his parents would be like finding a needle in a haystack, so he decided to seek shade under the nearest tree. Puff stopped by a furry, brown mass, an ox, and croaked at it to start a conversation.

            No response.

            Puff croaked again.

            No response.

            He knew what he had to do and he blew himself up like a pufferfish.

            The brown mass, which turned out to be an ox, heard the rustling in the grass near her foot and looked down at Puff.

            “Hi! My name is Puff! What’s your name?”

            The ox responded in a low, sultry voice, “I’m Oxanne. You must be new around these parts!”

            Puff smiled and said, “Yes, I am. I was living in Croaky Cavern with my family before a giant storm washed me here. Speaking of giant, boy, am I glad to see someone like me for a change!”

            Oxanne tilted her head and asked, “And what do you mean by that, Puffy? I don’t think we could be any more opposite if we tried!”

            “We are both giants living in this giant world!”  responded Puff excitedly.

            Oxanne let out a loud howl and said, “Oh, baby, are you mistaken!” She kicked Puff with her back hoof and he landed on her back.

            Puff was utterly speechless. His feet had never left the ground, so this perspective was completely new to him.

            Oxanne said to Puff, “Honey, you are almost as small as the eye in my head; but that doesn’t mean you can’t be mighty. Actually, this reminds me of a little friend I met not too long ago. My calves and I were by the watering hole one day and a bird came plunging toward my baby’s backside. Luckily, I noticed before it got any closer and directed it the other way, but when the same bird returned later, I decided to ask him what he wanted. I told him that he is going to get himself killed if he continued to try for such large animals. He told me that he too was big and that the size of my babies didn’t intimidate him. I have heard of animals having this problem before, this miscommunication between the brain and the eyes that causes them to have problems with size and distance. I think you have this disorder, Puff, but with this, a passion has been born.”

            Puff asked, “What do you mean?”

            Oxanne looked at Puff and said something that he never forgot, “You have a passion and a desire to make a difference in this world. Just because you aren’t big doesn’t mean that you can’t make that same difference that, say, an elephant can make. I am going to help you, Puffy. I am going to help you make your mark.”

            Puff stared in disbelief at this ox he met mere minutes before. “What are you planning to do?”

            Oxanne replied, “We are going to travel and see everything there is to see. I have seen a lot in my days, but I have always wanted to travel with a friend. Let’s see, Puff, where shall we go first?”

Author's Note: The original story was a rhyme for children by W. T. Larned from the book "Fables in Rhyme for Little Folks." The stories are simple, but I wanted to add a personal touch with names, details, and a storyline. In the original story, a frog is constantly trying to impress his family and friends because he feared he was too small. He would puff up and on the last try, he blew too hard and exploded. Although the first story was still directed more towards children, I decided to change the ending to result in a newfound friendship. The character Puff that I created was unnamed in the nursery rhyme, but I based his name on the line from the original story, "'See me puff!'" I wrote this story with the intention of a young audience, so I kept the message and details light and positive. The main characters are Puff, an ambitious frog who thinks his is big, and Oxanne, a sassy ox who befriends Puff. Oxanne sees the potential in this small, but giant-minded frog and decides to go an adventure with him. Puff lost his entire family and Oxanne had nothing but time, so they decided to travel the world and go on the journey of a lifetime.

"Fables in Rhyme for Little Folks" by W. T. Larned.

Portfolio: When the Storm God Rides

Joey and Elliot couldn't have been more excited to spend the Fourth of July weekend at the beach with their entire family. It was a family reunion that was held every ten years, so this was the twins' first time, as they had just turned eight. They peered out opposite windows as their father drove over the channel in the direction of the sea wall. Although the water wasn't crystal-clear, they still couldn't wait for that first jump into the gulf. Joey and Elliot had been coming to Galveston since they were babies, but something about this trip was going to be different.

As soon as they arrived at the house they had rented, the twins leapt out of the car and scrambled upstairs to claim the best room before the rest of the family got there. They threw their bags on the bunk beds and immediately changed into their swim trunks.

“Last one in the water’s a rotten egg!” Elliot yelled to Joey and the boys took off racing towards the vast Gulf of Mexico.

The water was cooler than normal with what seemed like a storm brewing in the distance. The twins played undistracted in the water and sand for two hours, until they heard the voice of their mother telling them to come in before the weather got any worse. They looked up at the sky, wondering how long they would have to wait inside. It was an odd color, somewhere between blue and yellow, but not quite green. As they ran into the house, the thunder began. They barely made it to the door before the skies started to open up. They ran up the stairs, slipping all over the hardwood. The entire family was in either the kitchen or the family room, with a grand total of 51 people. Some of the cousins had brought their partners and others came solo. No matter, everyone was laughing and talking all at the same time. Although the circumstances weren't ideal, Joey and Elliot couldn’t wait to meet everyone.

Hurricane in the Gulf of Mexico.

They scanned the crowd and met the gaze of an elderly man sitting in an enormous leather chair in the corner of the family room. He had long gray hair that almost touched his belly button and wrinkles that seemed to tell a story within themselves. In front of him sat a group of about twenty children and the old man gestured for the boys to come over. They nervously looked at each other and then back at their mother who was standing behind them.

“That’s your great-grandfather, boys. We all call him Chief, but don’t be nervous. He’s very kind and also happens to be the best storyteller in the entire family,” she whispered and nudged them in his direction.

The twins sat behind two younger cousins and looked around at the other children who were absorbed in a story that seemed to be coming to an end. “…and that is why the hummingbirds drink dew,” breathed Chief in a raspy, yet hypnotizing voice.

Suddenly, a paralyzing horn screamed from the TV and a woman’s voice alerted everyone that there was now a hurricane warning in effect. They were ordered to seek shelter away from the beach immediately. This hurricane could potentially be the worst Galveston had seen in the past five years and could hit land any minute.

Joey and Elliot’s father attempted to calm down the now anxious group, but he eventually resorted to whistling. Everyone’s heads twisted toward him and he cleared his throat. “I know this is scary, especially for those of us who haven’t experienced a hurricane before, but please don’t worry. We made sure that the house we rented would be equipped with everything we would need if something like this were to happen. There’s a hurricane shelter in the basement under the garage, so let’s try to be calm about this…” He couldn’t finish his sentence before adults and children were running down the stairs and outside into the underground shelter. Joey and Elliot made their way to the storm shelter with the remaining kids and with Chief leading the pack. They had heard a little bit about Chief’s stories from their mother and they couldn’t pass up an opportunity to hear one for themselves. The shelter was much more spacious than expected and Chief led the children to a large couch in the corner. They all got comfortable, never taking their eyes off the mysterious, timeless man.

“I’m sure you all know, but we are all a part of the Tejas tribe,” he began. Joey and Elliot were aware of this, but didn’t really know much about the tribe or its culture. “All the stories I tell are from Native American tribes, but there is nothing I enjoy more than a good Tejas tale. I think it’s only fitting that I tell the story of the hurricane and the Storm God who brings it,” Chief started. He then mesmerized the children with the incredible story of the Storm God and his bird Hurakan for the next 30 minutes.

As the story came to a close, Chief finished by saying, "The Storm God would ride on his giant bird Hurakan, which would make the entire sky dark when he flew over the land. He first came in the shape of a cloud, which is the actual storm, and then he would fly overhead and pluck the colorful feathers from the birds for his cloak. The people were afraid of him, but eventually he was the one they had to turn to when their birds were being murdered by a neighboring tribe; and on days like today, the Storm God visits the coast through, what we know as a hurricane."

Almost at the same time, Joey and Elliot's father yelled, “It has passed!” Everyone cheered, but the children still looked to Chief to tell another story that would blow their minds.

Author’s Note: This story is based on the Tejas myth, “When the Storm God Rides.” The original story is about the derivation of the word “hurricane” and why hurricanes happen. The Storm God would ride on his giant bird Hurakan, which would make the entire sky dark when he flew over the land. He first came in the shape of a cloud, which is the actual storm, and then he would fly overhead and pluck the colorful feathers from the birds for his cloak. The people were afraid of him, but eventually he was the one they had to turn to when their birds were being murdered by a neighboring tribe. A difference between these children’s tales and other Native American myths is that they always have a positive message and outcome and they don’t include gruesome details of tragedies. The reality of life is not taken out of the myth. It is just told in a way that is sure to be enjoyable for children. Although the hurricane itself is a tragic disaster, the Storm God and Hurakan saved the birds and have been appreciated by the islanders ever since. I wanted to encompass the elements of these children's stories in a modern way. I thought about retelling the story in a different point of view, or possibly writing about the history of a famous animal rivalry. However, this idea popped into my head and I ran with it. I made sure to include Native American cultural references, such as the art of storytelling and family unity. I thought it was best to not have Chief tell the entire story, because I wanted to save space to tell my own unique rendition.

Bibliography: When the Storm God Rides: Tejas and Other Indian Legends retold by Florence Stratton.

Project: Rockabye Baby

Ominous rocking chair.

The following diary entries were written by the late Viktor Petrova in 1989. The diary was recently discovered by Moscow Police after receiving an anonymous tip to re-open the cold case of “The Moscow Murderous Mother.” Officials doubted the unknown female source at first, but when the diary was found, the police immediately decided to re-open the unsolved murder, suicide case of 1989.

December 25, 1989

7:00 a.m.

It’s a Christmas miracle! My wife Anastasia and I are about to be parents to the most beautiful baby girl in the world. At first, we were unsure if we wanted to be told what sex she was before she was born, but I am so glad we know. The nursery has been decorated to perfection by Ana, along with almost every other room in the apartment; but who can blame her? She has been the happiest she has ever been in her life during these past nine months, apart from the countless hormonal mood swings. I can’t even imagine how she is going to feel when she holds our little girl Natasha in her arms for the first time.

6:00 p.m.

I can’t believe this is happening. The doctors said that they had to perform a last-minute C-Section and Ana lost a lot of blood in the process. Natasha is sound asleep in the nursery, but how am I supposed to love the child who killed the most important person in my life? I know that every time I look into her eyes I will see my Ana, lifeless on a hospital bed.

December 26, 1989

5:00 a.m.

I know Ana would have wanted me to care for our child so I am going to try my best to stay strong. I stayed up until almost 1:00 a.m. rocking Natasha in the chair, but the crying never ceased. The nurses had told me that she was refusing to eat at the hospital, but I didn’t think that would continue throughout the night. After a few hours of attempting to feed her, I gave up and returned Natasha to her crib, where she continued to cry for another 30 minutes. I think I dozed off somewhere between 3:00 and 3:30 a.m., but the crying woke me again at 4:00. I thought I heard a door shut right before Natasha began crying again, but I know that it must be my paranoia getting the best of me.

December 27, 1989

12:30 a.m.

Well, after one of the longest days of my life, Natasha is finally resting. Again, I thought I heard the nursery door shut precisely at 12:00 a.m., but when I went to check on the baby, she seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

1:30 a.m.

I keep hearing noises coming from the nursery, but every time I go to check on Natasha, she is fast asleep. I can’t tell if the noises are real or if they are merely a figment of my imagination, but I just want Natasha to be safe. I don’t think I could handle losing her too.

11:30 p.m.

When Natasha and I went to the doctor for her checkup this morning, he was surprised to hear that she was refusing to eat. I believe his exact words were, “Natasha is perfectly healthy and actually seems to be eating more than the average newborn.” I found this odd since she has refused me every single time I have tried to feed her. Tonight, I am going to keep watch on the nursery to make sure that everything is okay. I keep telling myself that I am being paranoid, but there is still a little voice inside my head saying I am doing the right thing. It is better to be safe than sorry and I know that once I am reassured of Natasha’s safety, I will finally be able to get some sleep.

December 28, 1989

3:00 a.m.

I was sitting in the living room only a few feet from the nursery when I heard the door slam shut. I hadn’t seen anyone come in the house, but I knew I wasn’t being paranoid this time. I was quieter than normal so I could catch the intruder; but when I opened the door, Natasha was, again, sound asleep in the crib. However, the chair in the corner was rocking back and forth, hitting the wall each time. I shut the door and immediately swung it open again. There in the corner was my wife Anastasia, holding our daughter. Natasha suckled on Ana’s breast, but when Ana looked up and saw me in the doorway, she froze; and so did Natasha. Ana’s eyes peered into my soul, but they were lifeless. Her skin was almost translucent and her bones seemed to poke through. I ran over to Natasha, but right when I grabbed her I knew that something wasn’t right. Anastasia immediately vanished into thin air and I fell into the rocking chair, holding the now lifeless Natasha in my arms. I bawled for what seemed like hours and finally placed my dead child back in her crib.

This bring us to now. I’m sitting here at the kitchen table with a gun in my hand, deciding whether it’s worth it to stay on this Earth without them…I don’t think I will ever be able to comprehend what I saw back there...Everything I thought I knew is now irrelevant…

God, help me.

Viktor Petrova committed suicide on December 28, 1989. Moscow Police are determined to find the woman who is responsible for the death of Natasha Petrova; but, with no more evidence presenting itself, these diary entries could be the closest the officials get to finding out what happened that night.

Author's Note: My story is based on the Russian myth "The Dead Mother." In the original story, a mother dies in child birth and the child's father is left to raise her alone. The baby refuses to eat and it cries incessantly. When the nanny goes to check on the sleeping child during the night, she sees the child's mother breastfeeding the baby; but when the nanny goes to retrieve the child, it is dead. This story is extremely dark, but I wanted to make it more personal for the reader. I did this by putting it in diary entry style writing because it lets the reader hear the father's thoughts. Like in many myths, the characters are never given names, but this can also take away from the personal element that I think every story needs. I also decided to include an introduction and conclusion paragraph, discussing the case of "The Moscow Murderous Mother." Although this is a fictional case, it makes the story more intriguing and mysterious because it introduces what happens before and also discusses what happened after the last diary entry. The story of 'The Dead Mother" is a part of the book called "Russian Fairy Tales" by W. R. S. Ralston. I included the original location for the setting of my story to commemorate where the idea came from.

"The Dead Mother" by W. R. S. Ralston