Andrews 3 Fly Away Home "Drug rehabilitation," Uncle Reuben muttered as he chewed his forkful of sirloin steak Whenever Mama and I had steak, it was usually warmed-up leftovers she had brought back from Charlie's. "That's a waste of government money," he continued, chewing as he talked. He seemed to grind his teeth over the bitter words as well as his meat. "It's not a waste of money if it helps her," Aunt Clara said softly. He stopped chewing and glared at her. "Helps her? Nothing can help her. She's a lost cause. Best thing they could do would be to lock her up and drop the key into the sewer." Jennifer laughed. I looked up from my plate and fixed my eyes on her. "Stop staring at me," she complained. "It isn't polite to stare, is it, Daddy?" Uncle Reuben glanced at me and then nodded. "No, it ain't, but how would she know?" Jennifer laughed again and smiled at me. My meat tasted like chunks of cardboard and stuck in my throat. I stopped eating and sat back. "I'd like to be excused," I said, "Like hell you will, until you finish that," Uncle Reuben said, nodding at my plate.
