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Ray would've preferred to make this drive with Ecto, but the guys needed her too much back in New York. He's therefore rented a car on the State Department's budget for the sake of getting to Port St. Helena, Oregon, without having to deal with some of the nimrods at the airlines and Amtrak. Said nimrods have an issue with the contents of the passenger seat.

"Okay, Jhalak," Ray says to said contents. "Welcome to Boise, Idaho. We're gonna stop here for the night, if you don't mind. I know it's been tough being stuck in the car and all." Mind you, he's made a point of buying several reference books at any bookstore in each of the towns where they've stopped, along with a big honking quantity of fresh fruit. But still.

Comments

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"Okay, Ray." "Welcome to Boise Idaho." "We're gonna stop here for the night." "Don't mind." "That's right." "Tough being stuck in the car and all." "Stop here." "Approve admire applaud."

Jhalak wiggles its digits happily and climbs up the back of its seat to assume its customary position on Ray's shoulder, clinging with an assortment of limbs.

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Ray grins and glances at the GPS unit the rental agency provided. "Coming up on our right: Hotel 43. Sounds like a decent place, don't you think? Too bad we can't stay for more than one night. You might like some of the tourist stuff around here. The mountains are supposed to be pretty impressive."

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"Coming up on our right." "Hotel 43." "Sounds like a decent place." "Don't you think?" "Might like some of the tourist stuff." "The mountains are supposed to be pretty impressive."

It combs his endlessly fascinating hair with multitudinous thumbs.

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"All righty, then," Ray says, and just makes it past the traffic light on Grove Street in time to pull up to-

Understand, please, that Ray's history with swanky hotels generally consists of pulling the ghosts of dead patrons out of them. He mostly stays in cheap, recently-built hotels that haven't had time for anybody to be killed or die on the premises. When he saw 'Hotel 43' on the GPS, he assumed it was on the order of Motel Six.

It's not.

"... holy cats."

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"Holy cats," repeats Jhalak enthusiastically. "Cats, cats, cats. Holy cats!" "Hotel 43, coming up on our right?"

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Suddenly, Ray is very glad that he hasn't got Venkman's vocabulary tendencies.

"... looks like it," Ray says when he's recovered himself. "Wow. Hope they've got a restaurant."

As it happens once the car's been parked and Ray's extracted his suitcase, the place has two- a regular restaurant and a steakhouse. Ray hadn't been expecting either, to be honest. He's just a little bit rattled as he and Jhalak head into the main lobby. "Excuse me!" he says as he approaches the counter. "I wonder if I and my companion might possibly find a room here for the night?"

"Why, certainly, sir," says the young woman behind the counter, smiling brightly. "I assume they're coming in once the car's parked?"

"No ma'am," Ray answers, and indicates Jhalak.

"Good Lord 'n butter, I thought that was a toy!"

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Jhalak waves one five-thumbed hand politely. "A room here for the night," it chirps. "That's right."

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"... it talks?" says the woman, fascinated.

"Sure does," Ray answers. "Its name is Jhalak. Mine's Ray Stantz, and if you-"

"I know you," says the woman suddenly. "You're the Ghostbuster! Yeah, I thought you looked familiar. That's not some kind of ghost, is it?"

"No ma'am," Ray repeats, and somewhere Joe Friday gets chills up his spine. "Jhalak's just an alien. Jhalak, remember when I taught you how to shake hands?"

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"Shake hands," Jhalak agrees, wiggling its digits demonstratively before extending a graceful limb in the woman's direction.

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Hospitality is hospitality wherever you go. The woman's a little startled, but she reaches over to shake the offered hand anyway. "Well, hi there, little fella!" she says. "My name's Karen. How d'you do? ... smoking or nonsmoking, Dr. Stantz?"

"Nonsmoking. Please."

"Can do. You two gonna need any special accommodations for Jhalak here?"

"Just an armchair. Preferably something nice and cushy."

Karen laughs. "All our armchairs qualify. Okay, Dr. Stantz, I can do that. Say, if you don't mind my asking, what're you two in town for? The folks at Night Moves call you or something?"

"No, we're on our way to Oregon," Ray says. Then: "Night Moves?"

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"Hi there," Jhalak echoes. "Armchair! Nice and cushy!" "Applaud approve adopt admire." "On our way to Oregon. Night Moves?"

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"Yup. Just about the most famous haunted place in Boise," says Karen. "They've been having cold spots at random and ghosts of all kinds of folks show up there for years."

"Can't say I ever heard of it," says Ray. "Sorry."

"Oh, well. Gonna be in town long?"

"Just until morning."

Karen nods. "All righty, then. Here's your key, sir; you're in room 720. Have a nice stay, and thank you for choosing Hotel 43!"

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"Thank you," chirps Jhalak. "Room 720. That's right. Approve!"

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Karen waves a little as they leave the lobby. If one of the Jotok's eyes is pointed in the right direction, it might notice the young woman picking up the telephone and starting to dial before Ray turns a corner and she drops out of sight.

"Ever been in an elevator before, Jhalak?" Ray inquires as he pushes the 'up' button.

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"Ever been in an elevator before?" "Elevator?"

It looks around curiously and closes all its free hands for a moment.

"Nope. No elevator before." "Elevator?"

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"Okay, then," Ray says. "An elevator is a metal box inside a building that humans use to get from one floor to another instead of the stairs."

There's a ding, and the doors in front of them slide open.

"Here's one now."

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"Here's one now." "That's right." "An elevator." "A metal box inside a building that humans use to get from one floor to another instead of the stairs." "Okay, then."

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Ray ducks just a little and slips into the elevator. "We push the button that corresponds to the floor we want, and it takes us there," he says. "Can you read the numbers yet, or should we go over those next?"

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"Numbers." "Read the numbers." "One two three four five..." "...six seven..." "Seven?" "Seven."

One arm directs its eye queryingly at Ray. "Seven?"

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"Very good," Ray says. "Seven it is. You can push the button if you want, but otherwise I'll push it myself.:"

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Jhalak extends a hand and carefully pokes at the button in question. It takes two tries to muster enough force to get it lit up, but the Jotok takes the light as a sign of success and wiggles its digits in delight.

"Seven!"

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"Bingo!" Ray says as the elevator starts to rise. "Very good, Jhalak. Now hang on. This shouldn't take long."

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"Bingo!" "That's right!" "Approve admire applaud!" "Very good, Jhalak!" "Very good!"

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It's the enthusiasm that gets him, really. About everything. Ray scritches Jhalak's central mass and points out the strip of numbers as they light up.

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"Two." "Two." "Three." "Three." "Four." "Four." "Five--" (an arm spreads its digits indicatively in the air) "--six--" "--six, six." "Seven!" "Seven!" "That's right!"