Cleveland--the beginning...

Once upon a time there was a determined little boy making a long journey up to the top of a mountain. He was just eleven years old, but anyone could see there was a profound spirit deep within his large brown eyes that far surpassed his years.
The boy was daring; his little calloused feet were always bare and his eager face was tanned from constant exposure to the sun. He was determined to get to the top of the mountain, come what may.
The boy's name was Cleveland, and all he had with him was a dingy bag bearing a most unusual and precious cargo; a jar with a butterfly. It was not just any butterfly either, it was a butterfly that no scientist could ever have identified, for it was the only one of its kind ever found.
Cleveland, being the clever boy that he was, had miraculously come across the creature and captured it for his grandmother. Her 91st birthday had been the perfect occasion for his special gift. When he had presented the beautiful butterfly to his dear grandmother, larger tears had welled up in her aged hazel eyes. She had taken the jar in her old, withered hands and gazed at the butterfly with an expression of sorrow that Cleveland had not expected.
"Cleveland," Grandmother Rea had said, "why have you caught and caged this poor creature?" The young boy's heart had dropped at her softly spoken reprimand. Her words had stunned him, as she held the jar out to him and again spoke. "Look deeper, Cleveland. This is a free and flying creature. Yes, it is very beautiful, but that is no reason to trap it so."
Cleveland had looked and tried to see what was so evident to his grandmother, he had told her he was sorry that he had not realized what he had done. He couldn't quite understand it, even though he wanted to. Grandmother Rea took his small, sun-browned face in her hands and had told him to take it to the top of the mountain, set it free, and that would be her gift.
So Cleveland, filled with redemptive determination, set out on a journey to the mountain top. To release his prize...the captive butterfly. It was a long way up to the top of the mountain, but Cleveland fixed his eyes upon the summit and began his hike. Over rocks and roots, and through weeds, thistles and trees he climbed. But this he was used to, the wilderness and the wild brush were like old, well-worn paths to the child.
It was warm, with the sun shining golden upon his smooth brow. The wind swirled about the mountain, whispering wildly through the leaves. The air tasted cool and crisp, its sweeping motion soothing his spirit like a dear friend. With the wind urging him onward, Cleveland smiled to himself. There seemed to be no opposition, just encouragement for the journey before him.
Off to the side of his path, a small sinister slither caught the corner of his eye...hoping it wasn't a snake, Cleveland turned fast to see a long brightly-colored cord weaving through the bushes. A darting panic shot through his brain as he analyzed the diamond-shaped head. Instinctively drawing his foot backwards, a strong breeze tugged at his body. His eyes were pinned to the snake, a cold shiver of fear racing down his spine.
....