Close to the Heel Read Online Free PDF Page B

taught me actually worked!
    â€œLooks good, Rennie,” the Major said when he handed the list back to me. “So, I guess we’d better get you to the airport.”
    I reached for my duffel bag, but he got to it first and carried it down the stairs and out to the car, where he stowed it in the trunk. We drove to the airport in silence. He stayed with me while I checked in and got my boarding pass and then walked with me to the security gate.
    â€œYou let me know when you get there,” he said.
    â€œI will.”
    He reached into his pocket and pulled out something. He handed it to me.
    â€œYou told me not to bring my cell phone,” I said.
    He was probably convinced I’d lose it.
    â€œThis one is set up to operate there. Just in case.”
    â€œThanks.”
    He handed me a piece of paper.
    â€œWhat’s this?”
    â€œThe name of someone in Iceland you can call if you need anything.”
    â€œYou know someone in Iceland?”
    â€œJake does.” Jake Thorson was the Major’s best buddy. “His mother was Icelandic. That’s his Uncle Geir’s number. You can call him anytime.”
    â€œIs he in the army?”
    â€œHe works for one of the daily newspapers there. He’s some kind of editor.”
    I tucked the paper into my jeans pocket.
    â€œBe careful driving over there, Rennie,” the Major said. “The temperature and the weather can change just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “Be especially careful on gravel. You don’t get good traction on gravel.”
    â€œI know. I’ll be careful.”
    â€œAnd stay off the glaciers. They’re dangerous.”
    â€œI think part of the reason I’m going is to see the glaciers.” I’d been online checking out the place. Iceland had the biggest glaciers outside of Greenland and the Antarctic.
    â€œWell, be careful. Really big glaciers can create their own weather systems. Do what your guide tells you. And don’t even think about going into an ice cave. I don’t know if you know this, but—”
    â€œI know,” I said. “You told me at least a dozen times. I’ll be careful.”
    He nodded slowly.
    â€œOkay then. Well…” He looked awkwardly at me. Then, without warning, I found myself engulfed in a bear hug. “ Sois prudent, mon fils. Bon voyage .”
    â€œ Au revoir, Papa. ”

    The first thing that surprised me was how many people were going to Iceland this time of year. The plane was full, and we were jammed in like cargo. I have long legs, and there was no room for them. My knees became best friends with my chin on the way over. The movie selection sucked—there was nothing first-run and nothing worth seeing a second time. I tried to sleep, but a baby somewhere behind me started to shriek. When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I got up to see if I could locate the kid. I had it in mind to make a helpful suggestion or two to the parents. But the parents turned out to be just the mother—she didn’t look any older than me—and she was doing her best to shush her baby before some jerk complained. I sat down, put on my earphones, jacked up some Björk, and tried to figure out what kind of country would make someone like her a rock diva. Before long, the baby settled down.
    The next thing I knew, we were making our descent into Keflavik airport. Then it was like airports anywhere—get off the plane, stand around to get your luggage, stand around again to be quizzed by a stone-faced customs officer, get your passport stamped, and welcome to Iceland.
    I went out through the doors of the customs hall into the arrivals area along with everyone else and peered around, wondering how I was going to recognize Brynja Einarsdottir. I had no idea what he looked like. All I knew was that Mr. Devine had given him my email address and he’d emailed me to tell me he’d meet me at the airport and take me