Number Nine Tram hung in the Late Tunnel and all was relaxed - or so it seemed. Reggae creatures swirled through with a tune and left. But Nessie was agitated and roared. "The Ghosts from the Mountain are still coming." A reggae creature draped himself on a seat. "Yuh no haffi worry - dem jus' bong belly pickney," "That's enough donkya," snapped Nessie, "Babylon dey cum." The reggae creature hummed a snatch of an old Trench Town ballad. "Wha bangarang place yu frahn?" The loudspeakers crackled. "Yuh a chat bagga nonsense," shouted Nine, "opin up yuh iez and listen!" A wind whistled through the Late Tunnel and flung red speckled dust at the windows. Reggae creatures bounded inside, shut everything up and fell silent. There was no music - just the sound of scratching glass. "Heavy manners," murmured the Wabbit. "Look, we can't stay in the tunnel forever," said Lapinette, "we need to stop the wind." "Wi a gwaan chant dem down," said a creature. "That's it!" shouted the Wabbit and he whacked his feet on the floor. "Cole cole wind, wi chant yuh down." They all joined in, making it up as they went along. It was a whole lot of chanting and the wind dropped away to nothing. "So far, so good," murmured the Wabbit.
[Bong belly pickney : greedy children. donkya : don't care. Babylon dey cum : the enemy is coming. Bangarang : old]
