THE KITCHEN by David mason
- •He walked to where his father stood and hugged him by a leg and wept like the babe he used to be in the green house by the lake
- •He wept for the giants in the woods for the otter that swam in the waves. He wept for his mother in the fog so far away.
- •And then he felt a hand, a big hand in his hair. “It’s Davey McGravy,” his father said. “I’m glad you’re here.”
- •“Davey McGravy,” he said again, “How’s that for a brand new name? Davey McGravy. Not so bad. I like a name that rhymes.”
- •And there was his father on his knees holding our boy in his arms. And Davey McGravy felt the scratch of whiskers and felt warm.
- •“Nobody else has a name like that. It’s all your own. Davey McGravy. Davey McGravy. You could sing it in a song.
- •And then his father kissed him, ruffled his hair and said, “Supper time, Davey McGravy. Then it’s time for bed.”