A Prayer for Owen Meany
About the middle of the afternoon, Owen started playing what he called "THE REMEMBER GAME."
Owen asked me: "DO YOU REMEMBER THE FIRST TIME YOU MET MR. FISH?"
I said I couldn't remember—it seemed to me that Mr. Fish had always been there.
"I KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN," Owen said. "DO YOU REMEMBER WHAT YOUR MOTHER WAS WERING WHEN WE BURIED SAGAMORE?"
I couldn't remember. "IT WAS THAT BLACK V-NECK SWEATER, AND THOSE GRAY FLANNEL SLACKS—OR MAYBE IT WAS A LONG, GRAY SKIRT," HE SAID.
"I don't think she had a long, gray skirt," I said.
"I THINK YOU'RE RIGHT," he said. "DO YOU REMEMBER DAN'S OLD SPORTS JACKET—THE ONE THAT LOOKED LIKE IT WAS MADE OF CARROTS?"
"It was the color of his hair!" I said.
"THAT'S THE ONE!" said Owen Meany. (9.461-469)