Prasant of TJ Maxx
-Dana Owens-
Chapter One
Saturday afternoons at TJ Maxx are nearly always busy and marked by huge crowds, as many know. The air seems almost alive with the buzz of the mid-day shoppers searching frantically for that perfect, low-priced item. Employee's hurry to and fro to grant every possible wish of the customers. There's not a moment to spare amidst the frantic rush of the consumers and suppliers.
This Saturday, which happened to fall during the exceptionally warm months of late summer, was no exception. A full staff of trusted and experienced employees were placed on the floor and kept very busy. Each of them were vital in their own way to the inexpensive fashion-supplying machine that is TJ Maxx. Of course, some are more essential than others.
One example of such a staff member would be the fitting room attendant. Such a task cannot be had by anyone of low valor, morale or social skill, and commands great respect, particularly on a busy afternoon.
On this day, Meme, the beloved employee of the two wise and reputable managers, Mrs. Brock and Ms. Johnson, filled the required standards as fitting room attendant. Meme was a shrewd, taunting and generally unkind person, but she had "common sense," as the managers put it. As far as they were concerned, Meme was the only one able and worthy enough to work the dressing rooms. Never before had they considered entrusting another with the colored number tags until the perplexing misfortunes of that day befell dear Meme.
She had only just finished organizing the massive clothing rack on which customers left their unwanted garments after trying them on. When a small, pale child timorously approached the desk, Meme shot a cold glance down on him.
"What's in there?" He asked with an inquisitiveness known only to small children.
"That's where people try on their clothes." Meme replied dryly.
"Oh . . . What's that?" The child pointed towards the telephone, which hung upon the wall.
"A telephone." Meme retorted, eying a suspicious looking woman at the far end of the dressing room.
"Oh. What do these buttons do?"
"Bad things. Don't touch them . . . Ma'am, please take that bra out of your purse." She said, now turning her attention away from the child.
"Excuse me, Miss?" An older woman inquired, placing herself directly in front of Meme. "I have twelve things to try on, that's not a problem, is it?"
As Meme fumbled for a tag, three adolescents ran giggling out of their dressing room, leaving a trail of clothes behind.
"Hey, could you hand me that shirt right there?" A half-clothed man asked, peeking out of a dressing stall.
"Hello?" The child said timidly into the phone. He began to snicker as he heard his voice over the intercom throughout the store.
Meme covered her face with her sweating palms, attempting to calm herself momentarily. True, she was the only employee known to be capable of dealing with the demanding and often intolerable clientele of the fitting rooms, yet she couldn't help but begin to feel slightly perturbed with their trivial needs and demands.
Just then a metallic moan emitted from the over-stuffed clothing rack. Meme stood upright and turned around slowly. The bars, already weighed down by the excessive number of garments, were sagging dangerously low. She took a step towards them, wondering for the first time how much weight in clothing they could support. As she puzzled, the rack began to lean forward, as if being pushed. Unfortunately, by the time she perceived this, it was far too late, for the bars began to give way!
"Look out!" Someone shouted.
Meme dove towards the floor, covering her head with her arms as the immense rack came crashing down upon her with all the fury of Mount Vesuvius.
Chaos followed as people ran from the dressing room, panicked and shrieking.
"It's the Prasant Ghost!" Cried Tiffany, a fellow TJ Maxx employee who had also been in the vicinity at the time of the catastrophe.
Ms. Johnson and Mrs. Brock rushed towards dressing rooms at the thunderous sound of the collapse.
"What on earth . . .?" Ms. Johnson viewed the scene with disbelief as Mrs. Brock began to dig through the mammoth pile of clothes. She then joined her until the two women uncovered the top of Meme's head.
"Meme!" Ms. Johnson gasped. They grabbed her by the shoulders and hoisted her from beneath the clothing.
"Meme, are you all right?" Mrs. Brock asked, distressed.
Meme placed her hand on her forehead. After a moment of inquisition, she reluctantly admitted her well-being.
"I cannot work under such conditions!" She exclaimed after her recovery. "For the past few months this cursed store has been plagued by mysterious happenings, and I will not fall victim again!"
"But Meme, who else will work the dressing room? There is no one to replace you!" Ms. Johnson pleaded.
"The Devil if I know!" Meme turned and marched defiantly out the store.
The two managers stood silent for a moment in incredulity.
"What will we do?" Mrs. Brock questioned, knowing Ms. Johnson had no answer.
Fortunately for the managers, Amanda and Dana had come to pay a visit to their dear friend Allison, who was also a TJ Maxx employee. The two had overheard the conversation, and being the aggressively helpful people they were, decided to recommend Allison.
"She can do it, she knows all about the dressing room!" Amanda offered, pushing a somewhat unwilling Allison forward.
"Yes, for she has a mysterious new tutor who has taught her everything." Dana added.
The managers eyed Allison for a moment doubtfully.
"The dressing rooms are very busy on Saturdays, how can we be sure you know what you are doing?" Ms. Johnson inquired snidely.
"Yes, and who is this new tutor anyhow?" Mrs. Brock pressed.
"I-I don't know." Allison looked down, reluctant to say more.
"You don't know indeed!" Ms. Johnson shot towards her.
"Oh, but she does know!"
"Yes, she knows all there is to know about the dressing rooms!"
The managers watched the two blondes nod their heads eagerly. They knew there was no one else. Meme was their star; no other soul could take her place. This Allison was certainly just as ill-suited as any other employee they would be forced to place here.
"Oh, what could be the harm for one night?" Mrs. Brock said with a sigh.
"I hope, for your own sake, that you are indeed capable of tending to the fitting room on a day such as this." Ms. Johnson said coldly to Allison.
"I can do it." Allison said, a surge of self-confidence washing over her.
"We shall see." Was the manager's reply.
Chapter Two