"White? Maybe it was my bedding dress. Describe it to me." "Had a high neck. Whole mess ofbuttons coming down the back.""Buttons. Well, that lets out my bedding dress. I never had a button on nothing.""Did Grandma Baby?"Sethe shook her head. "She couldn't handle them. Even on her shoes. What else?"
"A bunch at the back. On the sit-down part.""A bustle? It had a bustle?""I don't know what it's called.""Sort of gathered-like? Below the waist in the back?""Um hm.""A rich lady's dress. Silk?""Cotton, look like.""Lisle probably. White cotton lisle. You say it was holding on tome. How?""Like you. It looked just like you. Kneeling next to you whileyou were praying. Had its arm around your waist.""Well, I'll be.""What were you praying for, Ma'am?"
"Not for anything. I don't pray anymore. I just talk.""What were you talking about?""You won't understand, baby.""Yes, I will.""I was talking about time. It's so hard for me to believe in it.Some things go. Pass on. Some things just stay. I used to think it wasmy rememory. You know. Some things you forget. Other things you never do. But it's not. Places,places are still there. If a house burns down, it's gone, but the place — the picture of it — stays,and not just in my rememory, but out there, in the world. What I remember is a picture floatingaround out there outside my head. I mean, even if I don't think it, even if I die, the picture of what Idid, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened." "Can other people seeit?" asked Denver.