The Valley of Plastic

The Valley of Plastic Part 20

"Right, I'm sure you are all aware, there is no more plastic to be brought in for the next four days. This is to due to a mission that we have set up for fifty of the cleaners and we have decided who will be going - refuse and you will be put infront of the commander. The details of the mission will be explained on the bus on the way. For those of you who will not be going, you will be expected to continue sorting the remaining plastic and fulfilling your regular duties." The mega-phone man hollared to the concerned crowd as we sat eating our lunches. He proceeded to call the names of the fifty people who would be going on the mission. 

"Emily Locken, Ryan Doltberg, Amia Laurence," I roll my eyes as I hear my name screamed to a crowd of too many people to count. This is just my luck, I think to myself, trying not to show my utter dissappointment on my face to Andrea - who was sat directly opposite me, glaring deep into my soul. I mouth the words, I'll be fine to her. She doesn't seem convinced. I feel a wave of surprise as I feel a hand on my leg, under the table, "Are you ok?" Niall asked, alarmingly close to my face. I nodd. "Niall O'Donnell". He looks shocked as his name is shouted; given that he is supposed to be a solider now. He shrugs at me, and gives me half smile.

Before we know it, we have said our goodbyes and are back on the buses that brought us here what feels like a lifetime ago. No-one else I know was called, apart from myself and Niall. I haven't seen Alex in months, but this realisation doesn't hit me till we're sitting on the buses once more. 

"You ok?" Niall asks, still staring out of the window on his right hand side. We are sat very close together. 

"Yeah, you?" He nodds simply. The bus drive is long and boring, no one talks very much. None of us know what to expect; this could all be an elaborate plan, or trap. I couldn't help but notice nature thriving with human activity being isolated for the best part of two years. The trees seem taller, the flowers are brighter, and the birds sound happier. There is no rubbish on the sides of the roads, and there is no pollution coming from production plants as far as the eye can see. It's not pointless. Nialls previous words swirl round my mind again. Maybe, just maybe he was right - not saying the way they went about it was acceptable, but maybe there was a purpose. 

After perhaps an hour and half of driving the bus halts to a stop. The ocean crashes on the pier and swims silently into the sand on the shoreline. 

"Right, we are here to start clearing the oceans of plastic and waste. The North East, our district, is almost completely clear of the plastic and it is being repurposed or disposed of in the appropriate manner. The next port of call is the oceans. When you are called, you are to get of the bus and go to the person holding the letter you have been assigned too. They will be A, B, C, D, or E. Each team will have a different job and will be made up of ten people..." The soldier continued his speech and read out everyones names. Before long we are all stood beside the buses in lines of ten. Niall and I are not on the same team. 

My team was assigned the fishing boats to use the nets to fish out as much plastic as possible. The boat bobbed and weaved on the majestic waves - forcing all of us to take a stance trying to maintain balance. There was an unease about letting someone who has never piloted a boat before take us all out into the depths of the sea to collect the waste. Luckily, there was one person - only one- who had been a speedboat driver before all of this. He took couples out to see the sunset over the sea on a night time; but he had not driven a boat in two years, so it still was definitely not smooth sailing. Large nets were dispanded from both sides of the metal beast, and were dragged across the ocean floor in an attempt to grab any waste. I couldn't help but take a moment to relish in the cool sea air biting my skin, clearing my lungs and airways and making me feel more peaceful than I have in months. I've always loved the ocean.

"When the nets come up, you five are going to go through all of the collections - any sealife you find is to go straight back into the water, got it?" One of the two soldiers on board yelled at the five people (including me). The water splashed us all as the nets were dragged up from the depths and emptied onto the deck with a roaring clatter. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.

Mounds of waste, from takeaway cartons, to plastic bottles to shoes, towels and even what looked like a fridge door. I gasped in shock. "GET TO WORK!" The other shouted over the enormous waves. I pull on the gloves they provided (they look like disgarded gardening gloves) and get to work. I sift my way through the plastic bottles, putting them in one pile, soiled soaked nappies, put them in another. I had around six or seven different piles of different waste around me as I sat on the deck. I lifted up a towel to add to my pile and found a dead turtle. This turtle wasn't dead because of being out of the water - the can four ring plastic holder digging into it's neck made sure of that. Dug in so deep there was a deep circular incision all the way round, red blood covering the plastic. I feel tears fill my eyes as I stare at this victim of human existence. I wipe the tears falling from my cheeks and pull the ring from the turtle's neck. I toss it into the pile and pick the turtle up, walking toward the soldiers, "What do I do with him?" The soldiers looked at one another, after a few silent moments one said, "Chuck it back in, it'll be a sharks dinner or summit." My heart sinks at the pure lack of remourse, but do as ordered. I whisper apologies to the turtle and let it go over the edge of the boat. It's not pointless.