We looked at them. Ships at sea. Old-time faces, painted without smiles or anything, dressed in black, holding pieces of paper or big books. Link’s dead relatives from long ago. They had old-time names, ones from the past: Abram. Jubilee. Noah. Ezekial. Hope. Jubilee was frowning. Ezekial was covered with pockmarks. Hope was this fat old woman with a little dog. Hope was looking off to the side, as if someone she missed was calling her name.
This is a good juxtaposition to the earlier scene in the hospital with her mural of the rowboat and pond. He thought the painting was bogus and boring, but this shows he's changed, he's grown.
