Part 4

She sat up in bed abruptly. "Witch Doctor." She blurted.
The alarm clock gazed at her. "Marriage material or medical procedure?" It queried.
"What?" She shook her head realigning herself with the cosmos.
"The doctor. I would avoid any that work directly with corpses though."
"No, like a voodoo priest. I had a dream about needing to visit one."
"New Orleans or the Caribbean are the most likely locales to find one."
"That means getting on a plane."
"Unless you learn how to fly."
"Do I possess secret talents I don't know of?"
The alarm clock appeared to shrug.
"Well?"
Silence.
"Fine, I'll just pack my bags and fly to New Orleans."
No response from the alarm clock.
She got out a suitcase and stared at the blue numbers. "Would you like to come along?"
"Thought you'd never ask!" Her father emerged from the alarm clock.
"What about permanency for ghosts?"
"What about it?"
"Is it a thing?"
"I went to your schools, I can travel to your apartment."
"So no permanency."
"None."
"How will you get to New Orleans?"
"Plane."
"I don't think they let ghosts on planes."
"No, you take along an object and I'll hang out inside it."
She sighed.
"How about that class ring you love?"
She held up the ring with her birth stone. He disappeared into it.
"Brilliant, now you're haunting my finger..."
 "Haunting is such a strong word. What about inhabiting?"
She shook her head. "Nope, that and my finger has taken a bluish tint. Maybe you should 'uninhabit' my ring while we're at the airport."

She took a cab to the airport, paid her fare and walked to the counter. She purchased a ticket and boarded a plane bound for New Orleans. She was lucky to grab a window seat over the wing as it was a nearly empty flight. She stared out the window, wondering about the presence of gremlins and of one might settle on the wing. Instead she saw her father wearing Bermuda shorts and a business shirt, his tie flapping up around his neck hanging ten on the wing. She laughed. It was the kind of thing he would do when she was little.
He saw her and waved his hand, thumb and pinky finger extended. She laughed again, "hang loose, dad." She thought.
Her mother would always point out the times she laughed in appropriately, usually it was driven by her father's ghostly presence acting out in some crazy way to make her grin.