The Ghost of the MT Vic Tunnel

The Ghost of the Mt Vic Tunnel

“Those bastards. I should sock their bloody horns up their arses. God, I hate the Mt Vic tunnel.”

I heard Jacob swearing about the drivers in the tunnel again and rolled my eyes. He went off about it every single day. Yeah, sometimes the horns tooting could be painfully loud but you just got over it.

My boyfriend disagreed. He wanted to join a group banning horns in the tunnel. I had a really bad feeling about his attitude. Jacob was getting more belligerent about things that, to me, were not important.

There was a reason for all the horn honking. Yeah, lots of times, it is just drivers having fun but, underneath, there is a sad story attached. Back in 1931, when the Mount Victoria tunnel was being built, a guy killed his pregnant girlfriend. He buried her in the foundations of the tunnel. The tooting of horns is a mark of respect for the girl. Or, the old version had it, the horns kept the ghost girl away.

I knew Jacob would simply laugh at my fancy, but that girl, long deceased, was important to me. We shared more than first names.

“So, why don’t you bike around the bays then?” I asked.

“Funny. Not. It takes way longer to go around. Don’t suggest going over either. Both add more time than I can afford.” Jason scowled at me.

Oh, yes, his time was better used following conspiracies on the internet.

I scowled back. “Well, then, you could catch the bus and get to work even quicker.”

Then I waited for the explosion. “Don’t be stupid, Phyll. Biking is the most efficient form of transport. I thought you understood that.”

Then he suddenly smiled. The way his face crinkled up warmed my spirit. That damned smile had attracted me to him in the first place. “You’re just winding me up, aren’t you, girl.”

He was right. I had been, to a degree. It was a diversion to take his mind off the tunnel. We lived a couple of minutes from the Haitaitai entrance and had just got home from work. Yes, via the tunnel. And, yes, there had been the usual horns blaring. I always wore my headphones, listening to music. Jacob refused to block out the noise. If he did that, he would have no reason to complain. I found the fumes in the tunnel to be a greater problem than the noise, but the ride was only a few minutes long.

Unfortunately, even while eating his dinner, Jason was undistracted from his crusade. “That councillor is holding a meeting on Tuesday.”

“Huh.” My attention was on what I was eating. My stomach was easily unsettled.

“Phyllis, come on.  The guy who wants to put a stop to the tooting in the tunnel.”

“It’s stupid,” I muttered.

“What?” Jason was startled. Probably because I dared voice my opinion.

“I think there are a lot more important things our council should be doing than worrying about the noise level in a tunnel.”

“Don’t you see, Phyllis? This is making a statement. The earth-wreaking red-necks are targeting us, because we stand for a sustainable future. They’re doing it deliberately because they hold all the power.”

“Oh, get over yourself. That’s crap,” I snarled as my stomach lurched. “Life’s not all about you.”

I put my hand against my belly as I stood up. “Excuse me.”

I ran to the bathroom.

“What’s up?” Jacob yelled.

Lying through my teeth, I called back. “Dunno. Stomach’s upset.”

I wiped my face at the basin and looked at myself in the mirror. I knew exactly what was going on but I was not ready to tell him.

So, I went to bed with a hot water bottle. At least, Jacob shut up about the horn honking for the rest of the night.

Morning came too soon. The only good part was that Jacob left before I threw up my breakfast. 

Work was really hard. I felt ill the entire time. I was glad when the day was over.

But Jacob’s day had clearly been much worse than mine. He was waiting for me outside my work, as he usually did. He was in a foul mood.

When I fumbled with my helmet strap, he snapped, “Come on, Phyll. What’s wrong with you today?”

He did not want to hear an answer. He just wanted to make me the victim of his misery. We were going to have to have a serious discussion about his anger management. But, not right now, on the street, in the middle of Wellington.

“You go on ahead, Hun. I’ll just slow you up,” I suggested.

He gave me one of his classic scowls, then swung his leg over his bike and pedalled away. At that moment, I wanted to leave him.

With my helmet securely fastened, I mounted my own bike. I put my earplugs in so I could listen to some jazz on the way home. It felt odd, but pleasant, not to ride with Jacob. Yet I felt I was betraying him. Jacob helped me learn to ride and we explored a lot of the city and hills together. Was I being too hasty, wanting to break up? My circumstances meant there was more to consider than what was convenient. Maybe my upset was just hormones.

The Mt Vic tunnel, so despised by Jacob, loomed. I took a deep breath. The fumes could easily make me vomit yet again. I was not enjoying the side effects of being pregnant.

The lighting inside the tunnel was dim. I joined another group of cyclists but I could not keep up. As feared, the fumes were making me queasy and light-headed. I pushed on, knowing that I would be fine when I reached the other side.

The brightness that indicated the end of the tunnel grew. Strangely, there seemed to be no motorised traffic in the tunnel. All I could see was one lone cyclist silhouetted ahead of me. They were coming closer. I recognised the cut of the jacket he wore. It was Jacob.

He stopped right in front of me, forcing me to halt as well. He swung off his bike. I took out my earplugs to hear what he had to say.

“Well, bitch. Were you even going to tell me?”

How could he have found out? I knew he was talking about my pregnancy.

The silence in the tunnel was shocking. Normally, there was a constant roar from the cars travelling through but an anomaly had occurred. There was no traffic in the tunnel at all.

“I wanted to be sure,” I whispered.

“Well, tough shit.”

That was not the reaction I hoped for.

Jacob continued, “I knew it. You said that you didn’t want kids but you got yourself knocked up pretty damned quick.”

We had been together for over two years.

I was crying as I got off and started wheeling my bike along.

“So, what’s your excuse?” Jacob grabbed my shoulder.

I had to get past him. I walked on but Jacob always had been stronger than me. I could not escape his grip. Suddenly I was being marched along towards the tunnel exit.

I screamed. Whatever Jacob was planning, it was not going to be good for either baby or me.

He pushed me and I stumbled forward. As I fell, the bizarre silence of the tunnel mocked me. I was on my own.

Except, I wasn’t alone. I saw her. She was dressed in a garment that was ninety years out of date. Other than that, she could have been my sister. Grasped in both hands, she held a piece of metal pipe. She thumped it down on Jacob’s back.

It was his turn to stumble. He kept his feet but seemed unable to stop his forward momentum. It was like he was being propelled onwards. He staggered out of the tunnel and across the footpath. He did not halt until on the road. His bike clattered to the ground.

The poor driver of the oncoming car had no time to stop.

I screamed in earnest. A freezing touch at the back of my neck silenced me. I turned.

The ghost stood there. She nodded and put her hand to her swollen belly. I nodded back. Message understood. She had not been able to save her baby, but she could save mine.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

Hours later, I finally got dropped off home. When I walked into the kitchen, I saw how Jacob had discovered my secret. Lying on the bench was an open envelope. The letter from the medical clinic was addressed to me but he had opened it.

I blinked tiredly. My baby would grow up not knowing its father. The ghost, unleashed because the horns were silent, had saved our lives.

“Thank you, Phyllis,” I murmured.

My bike didn’t have a horn, but every time I rode through the tunnel in the future, I was going to ring its bell.