Reach

Maya stepped into the room. It smelled of salt. It smelled of old maps. A huge bird stood in the center. It was an albatross. Not just any albatross. This one was chunky. Almost cartoon-like. Its feathers were warm cream. They had soft gray and blue tips. Its wings were enormous. They stretched out wide. They had maps drawn on them! Tiny continents. Swirling ocean currents. Even little mountain ranges.

The albatross wore a mended cloak. It looked very old. Patches of different fabrics covered it. Each patch told a story. A faded blue square. A bright yellow triangle. The bird’s eyes were deep. They seemed to know everything. They watched Maya closely. It held a stack of cards in one claw. They showed planets. They showed stars.

“Hello there,” the albatross boomed. Its voice was like wind over the ocean. It made the air hum. “I am Reach.”

Maya gulped. Her heart thumped. “Hello, Reach.”

“You seem surprised,” Reach said. A small smile touched its beak. “Most people are. I have seen many things. I have flown very far.” Reach tilted its head. “I have flown over every ocean. I have seen every land.”

Reach spread one giant wing. The continents on it seemed to glow. A tiny red dot blinked on one of the painted islands. “I teach about planetary-scale interconnection.”

Maya frowned. She tried to repeat the words. “Planetary… inter-con-nec-tion?”

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