Rice is practically a native of Gracetown. The day he is born, the town burns. People flee everywhere. His fir…
Rice is practically a native of Gracetown.
The day he is born, the town burns. People flee everywhere. His first owner closes his eyes forever before he can even give him a name.
Then many new people come. Rice is happy, especially when a woman in a headscarf takes him home. His new owner is happy too, because golden grains are growing in the fields again.
When autumn comes, she rubs the full husks between her palms, laughing and crying, and through her tears she sees the dog playing in the rice paddies. "You," she says, "your name is Rice."
And Rice understands. Just like the rice, his owner has found a home again in Gracetown.