Goodbye to Pasta

On the seventh morning, Polly came to the tank early. The lab was quiet.

Pasta was at the front of the tank. This was new. For six days, the octopus had been folded in her pipe, or in a corner. Today she was pressed against the glass. All eight arms were spread. Her eye was level with Polly's.

They looked at each other.

What passes between a parrot and an octopus is probably not friendship. Octopuses can sense warmth through their skin. They can sense movement through their suckers. The octopus was collecting information.

Polly hopped along the rim. The octopus's eye tracked her. When Polly stopped, the eye stopped.

For seven minutes they watched each other.

Then the octopus did something new. She slowly unfurled one arm. She pressed the tip of it against the inside of the glass, exactly opposite Polly's foot. The suckers spread, then stilled.

Polly touched the outside of the glass with her beak.

The arm stayed for one long minute. Then it slid back into the water.

Chiara came in with two coffees. "You are leaving," she said. "Travel safely."

Polly flew out of the institute. The Bay of Naples opened in front of her. She climbed and found the wind.