Hank eased into the grocery store checkout line. Reaching for a pack of chewing gum, he was reminded of the time his mother reached for him as she fell backwards from that cliff, hands outstretched, her face saying she knew it was the end.

“Did you find everything okay?” asked the cashier.

Hank nodded and muttered the word to himself: “Okay.”

It was the same word Mama had used months before it happened, sitting on her rickety front porch looking beautiful as ever in that old gingham dress. But Mama, Hank had said, I Googled that place with the cliffs in Ireland, and there are no safety rails at the edge. But she just laughed. Oh pshaw, son, I’ll be okay. Because goddammit when that woman got an idea in her head, she—

“Just the gum then?” The cashier said, her voice uncertain.

It was just like how Mama had sounded uncertain, Hank thought, that morning in the hotel lobby in Ireland, wearing her fancy new pink dress, saying: Son, do you like my dress? Is it a good dress for our cliff hike, son? And he’d said, It’s perfect Mama, even though deep down he knew a dress like that was liable to get tangled or catch the wind wrong. But he hadn’t the heart to say that, seeing how insecure she was about fashion on account of being from a small town and also only having one leg. But goddamn she never let any of that stop her from doing anything. No sir, not one time. Not Ma—

“Sir?” The cashier’s voice broke his reverie. “You can put the gum right there.”

Hank set the bright pink packet of HUBBA BUBBA MAX bubble gum on the conveyor belt and watched it move slowly, inexorably to its destiny, like a ninety-seven-year-old woman inching her way to the edge of a really steep cliff. For the hundredth time, he kicked himself for not rushing fast enough when she’d reached down for that cool-looking rock—the kind she knew Hank really liked. Don’t pick up that rock, Ma! Hank had yelled as she laid her crutches on the rocky ground and began to bend over on her one leg, looking for all the world like a beautiful pink flamingo just as that big gust of wind blasted over the top of the cliff and filled those voluminous folds of fabric like the mainsail of a—

“That’ll be $1.39,” said the cashier.

Passing the cashier his credit card, Hank was instantly transported back home, weeks after the accident, passing his wife a square of tissue paper. STOP BLAMING YOURSELF, HANK! she’d shouted as tears streamed down her face. YOU’RE NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO LIKES COOL-LOOKING ROCKS! But with each word she screamed, all Hank could hear was the soft, oldness of Mama’s body hitting every rocky outcropping on the way down, WHOMP, WHOMP, WHOMP—like a baseball bat hitting that old piñata the Ramirez family used to string up at the ranch down the road, right near that lake filled with huge, hungry gators where Mama used to swim even though everyone warned her it was insanely dangerous.

“Would you like a bag?” the cashier asked.

The question was surprising to Hank because who needs a bag for a pack of gum? But nowhere near as surprising as when the officials came to tell him that Mama had lived after all, down at the bottom of the cliff, drinking from spume-filled puddles and eating regular old grass to survive until she was found by a couple of secondary school students who liked to drink and make out down there. Hank shook his head: Who would have thought the stubborn old mule still had it in her? But goddamn she did. When that woman wants something bad enough, she’ll lift heaven and Ea—

“Enjoy your gum,” said the cashier.

At the word gum, memories flooded in. Hank closed his eyes and suddenly it was fifteen minutes before he’d come to the grocery store. I want some gum, Mama had said, sitting there looking beautiful in her soft cotton gown, recovering from the operation to amputate the leg that had been shattered in the fall. But Mama, he’d said, the doctors said no HUBBA BUBBA MAX until after the sedation drugs have worn off because it’s a choking hazard. But she just laughed and said, Oh pshaw, doctors don’t tell me what to do. And all Hank could do was go to the store, because goddamn that woman never let anyone stop her from doing anything. No sir, not Mama.