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Just after I’d written a column about our friend Leroy contacting us from the beyond, but before it was published last week, I got a phone call from his sister, Cleo. 

“I’ve been thinking about you,” she said. 

“Funny that you would call just now, Cleo. I think Leroy’s been trying to contact us.” 

“How’s that?” she asked. 

“Every once in awhile our lights flicker on and off, and the woman who lives with us, Andrea, swears that it’s Leroy.” 

“I’m not surprised,” said Cleo. “He comes to visit me sometimes, too. He stands in the kitchen doorway and looks across the hall into my bedroom. I say to him, ‘Come on now Leroy, it’s time for you to go back where you came from.’” 

We were silent for a moment. 

“I miss my big brother everyday,” she said. “And especially on Sundays when he used to come for dinner.” 

“I remember.” 

“My daughter says he comes to visit her, too. He stands behind her and watches. She says to him, ‘Uncle Leroy, stop bothering me now,’ and he goes away.” 

“How are all your grandkids?” I asked. 

“They’re doin’ alright. Got one of my great grand babies here right now.” 

“Great grand children? How many do you have?” 

“I got me eight,” she answered. “Tamika’s twenty-one and Zack is six, and all the rest are in-between.” 

“Wow.” 

“Know all of their birthdays, too,” she added. 

“Have you been to the casinos lately?” I asked. 

“You know I have. Went just a few weeks ago. Won pretty good, too. I’m about ready to go back.” 

“Leroy would have been glad to know you won.” 

“Oh yeah. Leroy would’ve been the first in line to ask me for a loan.” She paused and laughed. “I’m tellin’ ya, Suzy, I miss him everyday.” 

“We do too.” 

“Jerry,” she said. “What about Leroy’s friend, Jerry? You hear from him?” 

“Yes, but we’re mad at him right now. You know how it goes, we like him, then he does something bad and we’re mad at him again. It’s back and forth, back and forth with Jerry.” 

“What he do this time?” 

“Stole a pot roast from our freezer.” 

“What?” 

“A pot roast.” 

“A pot roast?” 

“I’m afraid so.” 

“Suzy, I don’t hardly understand people these days. What’s he gonna do with a frozen pot roast? That man can’t cook, can he?” 

“Not a pot roast.” 

“I know you would’ve given it to him if he’d asked. What ails him, do you think?” 

“I don’t know,” I said. 

“Wait! Did Leroy come to see you before or after Jerry took the pot roast?” 

“After.” 

“Then Leroy probably wasn’t lookin’ for you.” 

“No?”  

“No,” she said with conviction. “He was lookin’ for Jerry to give him a piece of his mind.” 

“And then to eat some pot roast?” 

“No, baby. Leroy don’t like pot roast. He likes T-bone steaks cooked medium rare, and he likes my fried chicken and potato salad. Really now, I think he was comin’ for Jerry.” 

“Maybe so,” I said. 

“Next time he comes,” she instructed, “you send him over to Jerry’s. My brother didn’t go for that kinda stuff. He’ll set Jerry straight.” 

“I will,” I promised. 

“Well, I got to be goin’,” she said “I’ll give you a holler again soon.” 

“Thanks for calling Cleo. It’s good to hear your voice.” 

“Likewise,” said Cleo as she hung up the phone. 

I looked up at the chandelier in the dining room, Leroy’s preferred location in which to communicate.  

“We’re waitin’ on you Leroy,” I whispered.  

The lights stayed on. He must have been busy elsewhere.