Clunk! Clunk! I watched the plastic bottle fall and disappear as we sped ahead. And then there was a loud rumble. The road beneath us shivered. And so did we.

I looked at dad. His eyes were wide, unblinking. He was staring at the rear-view mirror. That’s when I saw it too; a dark figure rising from what appeared to be a garbage dumping area. I turned my head to get a view of the creature’s head, but couldn’t. It seemed to go all the way up to the sky.

Thud! Thud! The creature started to move towards us. Dad pushed hard on the accelerator. I had never seen him drive so fast! I kept my eyes on the road behind us.

Thud! Thud! Each step of the creature was a giant leap that made the earth tremble. And then there was silence. Only the sound of the wind rang in my ears and the fizz of the tires against the road.

“Maybe, we have lost him,” I said, still looking behind. But I had said it too soon.

Screeeeeeeech! Dad pushed the brake so hard that had he not made me wear the seatbelt, I would have crashed straight into the windscreen.

And then I saw him, clearly and unmistakably. Standing right in front of us was a 30 feet tall gargantuan monster! His skin was mangled plastic shoppers, wrappers and newspapers. Disposable bottles, cups and empty containers structured his hands and feet. His fingers were the most obnoxious; each consisted of several plastic forks, knives and spoons.

He moved his arm. We dashed out of the car fearing he might crush it. Instead, he lifted his hand towards his plastic nose and gave it a scratch.

A rotten acrid smell filled my nostrils. I felt like puking.

“I am the Garbinator,” his voice boomed on the abandoned road.

No wonder he stank. He was garbage personified! And then he looked straight at me with his plastic-bottled eyes, “Thanks for the plastic bottle. It was just what I needed to become alive,” he barked a laugh that ended with a cough.

I noticed that one of the plastic bottles that made up his eyes was the one I had tossed out of the window just a few minutes ago. Dad noticed it too.

“How many times have I told you,” he grunted, “not to throw trash on the streets.”

“You never told me throwing out the trash would make this… this… thing.”

“The Garbinator!” corrected the angry voice.

Then the Garbinator took a long, deep breath. “Stay calm, stay focused,” he whirred. “I must stay focused on my goals.”

“Garbage has goals?” The words escaped my mouth before I could stop them.

He glared. Then he took a deep breath again. “Just because I’m trash, it doesn’t mean I can’t do great things. It’s called ‘Garbage can’, not ‘Garbage cannot’.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you, Mr Garbage.”

“That’s, uh, inspiring,” dad said. “So, these goals, are they, like, resolutions?”

“I just have one goal,” Garbinator’s voice pounded my eardrums, “I will collect and compose other plastic garbs, and together we will rule the world!” He bared his dirty yellow plastic teeth.

“And you...” He looked at dad and me, “You humans will become trash!” Then he thundered a laugh. And coughed.

“D-a-a-a-d, we need to destroy him.”

“But he’s made of plastic,” Dad was still staring at his huge, disgusting body.

“That’s right. Plastic takes half-millennium to decompose. As far as human life goes, I’m immortal!” Garbinator said.

“I have an idea,” I came closer to Dad and whispered. “Try to distract him.”

Dad looked at me. I thought he was going to scold me again, ask me how on earth I was going to destroy a 30-feet bulky monster. But he turned his face towards the Garbinator, his eyes still fixated on me.

“Hey, Garb!” dad shouted.

The Garbinator hurled towards Dad. Dad ran in circles, twisting and turning, while the Garbinator tried to get a hold of him. Seeing my chance, I clung to Garbinator’s foot and got my hands on loose plastic-shopper ends hanging from his body. Trying not to puke because of the stink he gave off, I began climbing.

When I reached his back, he turned his arm around and began scratching right next to me. A plastic fork from his fingers poked my foot. I heard a loud grunt and watched with horror as his palm reached out to grab my face.

I flailed my arms looking for more loose shopper ends. Nothing.

I forgot to breathe.

I wanted to jump back down. But this was my only chance to destroy the monster. Just then my fingers felt a hard spring-like object. It was a huge slinky. I pulled at it with all my might. Then I let go.

Whoosh! I landed straight on his head. I bent over and pulled out the plastic bottle that was supposedly his right eye.

“I’ll be needing that back,’’ I shouted as I stumbled on my way down, “to use it as a, uh...” my mind was racing as I took a quick look around. I plucked a handful of daffodils from the bushes beside the road and thrust them in the bottle.

“As a flower pot. There!” I said beaming.

“What?”

“If we can’t destroy you,” I shouted at him, “but we can surely recycle you!” then I winked at Dad.

“Nooo…!” Pieces of plastic started falling off of the Garbinator. He gave out one final roar as his head crumbled into the rubble, “I’ll be ba-a-ack.”

“Nice thinking, son!” Dad patted my back so hard it hurt.

“It was my fault, Dad, and I had to fix it,” I rubbed my back, still panting.

Dad shrugged, “We should probably call someone and get this cleaned up.”

“And warn others,” I said looking at my new flower pot. “Plastic needs to be recycled before more Garbinators start popping up!”

Published in Dawn, Young World, January 22th, 2022