Sleuth on Safari

by A R Kennedy

  I stepped out of the line and waited for her to find her suit. I smiled at the others as they passed us. Frank from the airport, with his wife, Teresa, walked past. Their daughter, Callie, was behind them. She kept looking behind her, as if part of their group was missing.

  “Why aren’t you getting your bathing suit out?” my mother asked.

  I tapped my backpack. “I’m all ready.”

  She sneered at me. “So much like your Boy Scout father. Always prepared, aren’t you?”

  It was a rhetorical question and I stood silently as she dug through her case for a bathing suit. Her suitcase was a mess before she rummaged through it in search of swimwear. She obviously had not read the article about rolling your clothes to save space and to decrease wrinkles.

  After checking in at registration and getting our bracelets, we headed to the changing rooms with the other masses of people. I elbowed past a tour group to get a locker. I hoped the water wasn’t this crowded.

  Trying to stay private in the large and crowded changing room, I held the provided robe over me as I changed out of my clothes. I grabbed my bathing suit and headed to the shower.

  In pursuit of modesty, I searched for a shower with a curtain. Most of them did not have one.

  My mother lacked my modesty. She strode nude to the shower, like many of the other women. “I forgot the freedom of being in Europe!” she touted.

  As instructed, I washed before getting into my suit. Finally, I was ready for the Blue Lagoon.

  I left the building, ready to get into the soothing waters and relieve my jet lag. A gentle steam rose off the warm waters. I stepped into the light blue water and could feel the tension dissipate. I dipped down to get the warm water up to my shoulders. An audible sigh escaped from my lips.

  Now this was vacation.

  The relaxation was fleeting.

  I felt someone poke my arm. “What’s with the stuff on people’s faces?”

  “It’s a silica mask. Good for the skin.” I pointed to the mask bar.

  “Woo, I’m getting one of those.” She looked at me closely. “Charlotte’s right. You don’t travel well. You could probably use it too.”

  I could point out that she upgraded her trip to first class, leaving me in coach, which could explain our different travel experiences, but chose not to. “I’m going to the bar.”

  One drink was included and I walked through the warm waters in search of the walk-up water bar. I briefly read the hanging menu and ordered.

  “Blueberry smoothie, please,” I asked the bartender.

  A handsome man, dark hair, dark eyes, about my age, midtwenties, was holding a plastic cup filled with an amber liquid. It looked like he had spent his winter getting his body ready for the summer. I had spent far less time at a gym. “The included drink could be alcohol,” he said, toasting his beer in my direction. “It’s five o’clock somewhere, right?”

  I looked at my watch. “My body clock says it’s two in the morning.”

  “Still time to drink. Last call maybe?”

  I’d read enough travel websites and they all said to accommodate to your new time zone immediately. The moment you step on the plane, you should change your watch and start living in that time zone. Nine in the morning was too early for alcohol. But I was on vacation, I reasoned, with my mother.

  The bartender waited in anticipation of me changing my order. Wisdom won out. “No, the blueberry smoothie please.”

  “Next one on me then,” the man said before swimming away.

  He was out of earshot when I finally answered, “Sure.”

  Could this be it? My first travel romance.

  My mom strode up to me, face covered in the silica mask.

  Maybe the travel romance would be on my next trip.

  I sipped my drink—Skyr yogurt, blueberries, banana, and mango. It was refreshing. I could stay at the Blue Lagoon all day, luxuriating in the warm waters, under a clear blue beautiful sky, sipping a delicious drink.

  With the thought of romance out of my head, I went to the mask bar and applied the white paste like goo. The algae and silica masks were advertised to be revitalizing and cleansing, leading to ageless skin.

  I dipped my head back into the water and swept my hair back.

  “Looking good,” the man from the bar told me, pointing to the mask on my face. “I’m Milo.”

  “Naomi,” I replied. “You too.”

  He’d also applied a face mask.

  “We’re both a little young to have to worry about the ageless skin, right?” he asked.

  “I hope so,” I answered.

  I jumped when I heard my mother behind me. I thought I had left her at the bar.

  “Oh, it’s never too early to start worrying about aging,” my mother announced. “They say this stuff is drying on your hair, Naomi. Did you apply the conditioner like they told you?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll take that as a no,” she mumbled, before sipping her drink. Her shoulder-length hair remained as it did when she got off the plane. Perfectly coiffed.

  Milo smiled as he swam away.

  I knew I wouldn’t be able to ditch my mother, so I stopped trying. I walked over to one of the walls and leaned against it. My mother stood to my left. Every once in a while I caught myself looking for Milo. But with so many people, and most with a white mask on their face, he was hard to find.

  When I wasn’t looking for Milo, I enjoyed the view—black volcanic rocks surrounding the light blue waters with light steam rising to the impossibly blue skies.

  “I’m peckish,” my mother announced. “They said we had a reservation at Lava Restaurant.”

  I hesitated. I’d checked out the menu. It wasn’t budgeted for. “Maybe the snack bar instead?”

  “My treat, Naomi.” She raised her bracelet at me. The bracelet that paid for everything and opened the lockers. “We’re on vacation!”

  Like most in the dining room, we were dressed in our Blue Lagoon white robes. My mother had more to say to the waiter than me during the whole meal. But I wasn’t complaining.

  I never had much to say to my mother anyway. At least she didn’t lecture me on her latest hobby, my poor choice of leaving college, or my even poorer choice of my latest employment.

  The food was filling and, most importantly, free. All options on the menu were fresh and local. I chose the lamb filet with carrots, onions, and mustard. My mother chose the cod with Barley, avocado, almonds, broccolini, and mussel sauce. We both chose Ástarpungar and caramel for dessert. The mango chocolate mousse and vanilla ice cream with salted caramel was a delicious end to the meal.

  After the scrumptious lunch of Icelandic cuisine, we headed to the lockers, showered, and changed. We collected our luggage and headed to our hotel in Reykjavík.

  Check-in was smooth and once I opened our room’s door, I fell into the first bed I saw. With a full belly, relaxed muscles from the Blue Lagoon’s soothing waters, and exhausted from the overnight flight, I fell asleep instantly.

  I dreamed of Milo.

  Snorkla

  {SNORKELING}

  After breakfast, I returned to our room to collect my mother. She’d never been one for breakfast, or one to leave her home without a full face of makeup.

  As requested, I brought her a cup of coffee.

  “You really should put on a little more lipstick, honey,” she told me as I grabbed my backpack.

  Another rule for being out in public. I should needlepoint these pearls of wisdom on a pillow. To avoid further remark, I put on some lip gloss. Her face said it all. She wasn’t a fan of the color. Fortunately, she made no more comments about my lip color as she followed me out of the room.

  We arrived in the lobby with five minutes to spare and waited for our transportation.

  Milo and Frank were already waiting.

  “Oh, how nice to see you again, Frank,” my mother said. “Do you think we’re on the same trip?” she asked me.

  “The S
ilfra tour?” I asked them both.

  We were both pleased when the men answered yes. Romance was back on the table for this vacation!

  Our smiles were fleeting. They dissipated with the arrival of Frank’s family. He got up to introduce the approaching ladies. “This is my daughter, Callie.”

  Callie strode up to Milo and kissed him firmly on the lips. She was clearly staking her claim. “Where’s your wedding ring, Milo?” Callie asked.

  Romance was once again off the table.

  “Left it in the room, I guess,” he answered.

  “They just got married,” Frank told us.

  Teresa coughed, signaling she had not been introduced.

  “This is my…” Frank started but then hesitated. It was as if he had forgotten who she was.

  Teresa glared at him.

  Callie looked back and forth between them and laughed. “Daddy, you’re so silly. This is his wife, my mom, Teresa.”

  Teresa didn’t acknowledge us. Her glare remained fixated on Frank.

  “Here’s the rest of the wedding party now,” Callie said. She pointed to two people headed for us. “That’s my maid of honor, Becca, and the best man, Jed.”

  I felt my stomach fall. Not only was Milo taken, I was now joining their wedding party on an all-day tour. If I thought the remarks about what one should and shouldn’t do in public were bad, it was going to quickly get worse. The comments from my mother about me being single would be starting soon. The reasons why I was single would soon follow.

  “I can’t wait to hear about the wedding!” my mother exclaimed. She walked up to Teresa and asked, “Let me see the pictures! I cannot wait until one of my children gets married!” She glanced in my direction. “But it may be a while.”

  And the passive-aggressive portion of my vacation had begun.

  A young man entered the lobby and called out, “Who’s here for Silfra snorkeling?”

  “More swimming?” my mother asked.

  “What did you think snorkeling entailed, Mother?”

  “I didn’t bring my bathing suit.”

  “You don’t need it,” the guide told her. “You’ll be wearing a dry suit.”

  She nodded but looked doubtful.

  “I’m Sigivar Eggertsson. Everyone calls me Sigi. I’ll explain everything when we get there. Please follow me to our ride.”

  After marking our names off of Sigi’s list, and signing a waiver saying we were healthy enough to snorkel and releasing the company from liability, the eight of us boarded the mini bus. I chose a single seat in the back, one seat in front of Frank. I was surprised to see my mother join Teresa.

  Teresa took out a tin of mints from her purse. She handed them to my mother, who declined.

  Milo reached over as he passed her. “Thanks, Mom,” he said, grabbing a mint.

  I thought I saw a sneer pass over Teresa’s face.

  The bride and groom and the other couple sat in the next two rows behind them.

  “We have an hour ride to Thingvellir National Park. Enjoy our beautiful country along the way.”

  And I did, when I wasn’t holding on for dear life as Sigi made sharp turns and hard stops. I was glad I had put the seat belt on.

  It was a diverse landscape. Land covered in green lined the area alongside the winding road. I’d read in one magazine on the plane that someone said Iceland should have been called Greenland and Greenland should have been named Iceland. As we traveled, I saw mainly green and definitely no ice. Maybe they were right.

  An hour later we arrived at a small parking lot, where two similar vans were parked.

  “If anyone needs to use the bathroom, use it now,” Sigi announced. He pointed to the waiting bathrooms. “There is no peeing in the water here. These are insulated suits, so if you do we will all know because you will have peed in your own clothes.”

  No one hesitated. We all headed to the bathrooms.

  “Make sure you’re wearing your long underwear when you come back,” he shouted after us.

  When I returned to the van, another group was returning to the parking lot after their snorkel adventure. They looked cold but happy. It was about sixty degrees, partly sunny, not exactly swimming weather. I hoped these suits were as well-insulated as advertised.

  “What kind of thing did you book us on?” my mother asked me when I returned from the bathroom. “Callie just gave Milo a motion sickness pill.”

  “It was probably from the van ride. The road was curvy. Maybe he gets car sick.” And Sigi’s driving skills weren’t the best.

  “No,” she answered. “She clearly said it was for the snorkeling.” She glanced back at them. Callie and Milo were talking. Becca was with them. “He looks fine.” She leaned in close and whispered, “Better than fine. Don’t you think, honey?”

  “He’s half your age, Mother.”

  She shrugged. “Your sister is a lot more fun.” She looked over at the group returning from their snorkeling. “I don’t think I’m going to like this.”

  Knowing her, she was worried about her hair.

  “Doesn’t matter,” I told her. “You can stay here if you want. I’m going.”

  She looked over at the other van full of passengers getting ready to snorkel the continental divide. They were in various stages of dress and were struggling into the neoprene dry suits. I think the neoprene hood was what completely turned her off. That would definitely disturb the hair.

  “Oh no. This is not for me. I am not getting into that,” she announced.

  I had to admit it was unflattering. I didn’t think any wet or dry suit would be flattering but an insulated one that went over your head was even less so.

  The group had returned to Sigi and our van. He had changed into his dry suit while we’d been at the bathroom. “Are we all ready?” he asked.

  We nodded, except my mother.

  “Welcome to Thingvellir National Park, a UNESCO World Heritage site, where you’ll float between two continents! We’ll be spending thirty to forty minutes in the water today. The most strenuous part of our day will be getting into our dry suits.” He started handing out suits. “These insulated suits will keep you dry and warm in the approximately three degree Celsius water today.” He must have seen the blank faces with the word Celsius and did the conversion for us. “Thirty-seven point four degrees Fahrenheit.”

  All of us, except my mother, were dressed in our thermal underwear. We followed Sigi step by step to get into first the nylon undersuit and then the neoprene dry suits. As we did, he told us what to expect during our experience.

  I struggled with the head portion and tried not to freak out when it got stuck on my head. I reminded myself that my mother was here and if I had a panic attack, I would hear about it for the rest of my life and she would try to get my sister to examine me. I did not need my sister finding out about this.

  I finally got my head through and took a deep breath. As deep as I could get in the tight suit. When I opened my eyes, I saw my mom fiddling with her phone.

  “Where’s your nan when I need her?” she asked.

  It was sad that my mother’s mom, my nan, was better with technology than my mother. It was even sadder that I thought Nan was better with technology than me too.

  I was moments away from a panic attack again as I struggled to breathe in the suit. The neck portion was tight. I willed myself to calm down.

  “Looking good, Naomi,” Milo said as he approached me. “All we need is the white mask from the Blue Lagoon and we’d have the best vacation photos of all time.”

  My laughter caught Callie’s eye and, this time, I was sure, a sneer.

  He pulled at the neck portion of the suit. “It’s a little hard to breathe in, right?”

  I nodded.

  “Hey, Milo, here’s your water,” Jed called out. He launched the water bottle at him.

  Milo caught it mere inches from my head.

  Always in search of saving money, I had read that I could drink the water from the tap
here. I would waste no money on bottled water on this trip. “You know you can drink water from the tap here, don’t you?”

  Before he could answer, Callie came over and planted a big, and long, kiss on her new husband. There was nothing subtle about it.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked.

  “Great,” he answered. Arm in arm, they walked back to their wedding party.

  Frank slapped Milo on this back. “Ready?” he asked.

  Milo nodded before taking another long sip of the bottled water.

  “All right, my group, this way,” Sigi ordered. “Are we all ready to float in the clearest water in world?”

  We all nodded and followed Sigi out of the parking lot.

  “The water here is two to three degrees Celsius and originates in Langjökull glacier about fifty kilometers away. About thirty miles.”

  I heard my mother mumble something about “frigid” and “You have lost your mind.” I ignored her.

  Sigi then returned to his spiel. “The water has been filtered through underground lava for about a hundred years before reaching the fissure. It is one of the reasons for the outstanding clarity of the water.” He tapped the camera around his neck. “I’ll be taking pictures and video during our snorkel.” He tapped his GoPro video camera on his chest and pointed to his camera. “They’re available for purchase.”

  The wedding group started toward the trail, which was across a small roadway. I was a few steps behind. My mother stayed where she was in the parking lot.

  Sigi walked over to my mom. “You can come too. You can watch them float from the walkway.”

  She nodded and met me at the roadway.

  “You look ridiculous,” she told me as she snapped a picture. She’d given up on using her phone for pictures. She now had her small point-and-shoot camera.

  “You’re the one who stands out.”

  “I always stand out, honey.”

  Once a car passed, I crossed the street, leaving my mother. I tried to walk faster, to get some space from her, but the suit made it difficult.

  I turned to see where my mother was, mainly fearing she was taking more photos of me in the unflattering dry suit. Milo and Sigi were talking heatedly a few feet behind my mother. I waited for my mother to catch up.