Soapbox By Kay

A lot of people have ghost stories. Many people have multiple stories because if you can see/sense that sort of thing, it seems like it’ll keep happening. I really only have one ghost story.

I met Larry when we were in junior high. We were in band together and became best friends into and through high school. He was a year older, and started working at Treasure City, a local discount department store, our sophomore year. A year later, he was the 3^rd Assistant Manager and was often the closing manager during the week.

Larry would supervise the cashiers closing and counting out their registers and prepare the bank deposits for the following morning. After that, he would close down most of the lights and walk the perimeter of the store, checking that all the doors were locked and secure, and making sure no “guests” had missed the final closing calls. He told me stories about odd noises and the sound of footsteps. Clothes rustling and boxes falling off high stock room shelves. He said he never felt uncomfortable or afraid, just that it was kind of strange and interesting. When things got too rowdy, he asked whatever it was to knock it off so he could finish closing up and go home.

He had a desk set up in one corner of the front stock room, and I would sometimes drop by to visit after school. He gave me a tour of the store and his little office area and I sat down at his desk, messing with his pens and looking in the drawers. He said, “He likes you. Not everyone can sit there. They start to feel uncomfortable.”

“How can you tell when he’s around?”

And at that exact moment, on the other side of the stock room, a handful of locking coat rings on a rack in the corner loudly jangled together. I swung my head around to see the hanging chains still swaying and clinking together. Larry was unphased. He said, “Oh, he lets you know.” Then he waved his arm close to where we were sitting and said, “He’s right here, now.”

I stuck my hand out and straight into a freezing cold spot there in the middle of the otherwise warm room. I let out a little squeaky shriek and said, “Doesn’t he mind when you put your arm through him like that??”

Larry laughed and he said he didn’t seem to.

I went to work there as a cashier the following year, but rarely spent time in the back stock rooms or stayed after closing. Treasure City closed all its stores in the area a couple of years later. I think there was a grocery store in that space for a while, but later the entire strip center was torn down. Copilot has not been able to help me pinpoint the exact address and I have no idea what’s occupying that space now.

If you or anyone you know ever worked at the Treasure City in Irving, Texas, or at the grocery store that took over that space, I’d love to hear about any ghost stories or ghostly encounters you’d like to share.