Rob and I had been saving up for years for our dream tropical honeymoon. We even skimped on the wedding. Five months after we exchanged vows, we had the hotel and tickets booked and our bags were packed.
At work, I clicked on images of the island of Malpura daily.
The pristine, white sand beaches and crystal-clear water looked heavenly from the vantage point of my cramped cubicle on the 16th floor of an office high rise. The grimy slush and traffic fumes on the street below making Malpura seem even more beautiful. I couldn't wait for the end of the month when we'd finally hop on the plane and go.
Through our hotel, we hired a local with a boat to take us out to snorkel. We were so excited our waterproof cameras vibrated on our laps as we held hands and grinned into the tropical sun beating down on us.
The water was a sparkling blue, with a lot of pale, exotic sea life floating in the depths. We were enchanted.
The moment we submerged, however, I knew something wasn't right.
What I'd taken to be sea life was in fact garbage. It was like swimming in a flooded recycling bin. Soft drink bottles ducked and rose like tubular fish. Fat plastic strips waved and clawed at us like seaweed. Thousands of plastic bags swelled and contracted like hungry jellyfish.
We had to keep swiping the debris out of the way to get pictures of the real sea life. What little of it there was.
We were shocked.
Is this normal? we asked our guide. Was there an accident? He just shrugged and said: Tourist beach no here. Want to go tourist beach?
Back on land, neither of us felt like walking around to see the sights. We stopped by a small grocery on a busy road to stock up on snacks and drinks before going back to the hotel instead of going out to eat.
At the counter, each of our purchases were placed in their own plastic bag.
Wait, no! Everything in one bag, please.
The cashier's forehead furrowed in puzzlement. No healthy! One food, one bag. Healthy!
We showed her that much of the food was already in sealed packaging making an individual bag for it unnecessary, but she wasn't having it. Foreigners! One bag for one food! Healthy! Clean! All food in one bag, dirty! she insisted.
It was only outside -- with our one bag-- that we noticed the natives all had fifteen, twenty plastic bags dangling from their hands, each with only one item in it.
An old man noticed us staring and laughed. No stink garbage on Malpura!
He pointed a wrinkled finger towards the ocean. Bags float in water, shark eat, shark dead. People happy! Plastic good for Malpura people!
We left for home the very next day, making sure to take our one plastic bag with us for recycling.
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This was my entry for the PlanetOrPlastic competition, sponsored by National Geographic (2017)
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Hooverville: 500-word Flash Fiction
Short Story500-word flash fiction stories of various genres. *Comedy* *historic* *Steampunk* *Action* *Sci-Fi* *Paranormal* *social commentary* *General Fiction* Contest winners marked with a 🏆.
