Coach Week

Chapter 6 - Geysir & Gulfoss

"Fine. You can hold my hand for support if you'd like." He held out his hand while smiling. I pushed his hand out of the way and walked passed him.
"Awww" I heard him protest like a child behind me but knew he'd be grinning ear to ear. He caught up and put his arm on my shoulder.
"Ready for the museum, Week?" I didn't even bother correcting him, it looks like this is my name for the time being.
"It's not another museum of penises right?" I shivered at the thought of all of those jars filled with lumps of flesh.
"No, this one is more about Eyjafjallajökull." His mouth poised to further explain.
"Oh the volcano that caused all that trouble a fear years back?"
He laughed.
"A few years? It's 10 years ago!"
I could feel my face tense in shock. 10 years? I remember as if it was yesterday!
"I can't believe it's been that long...."
He nodded in agreement. We finally reached the slick black road at the bottom of the hill. I could still hear the water gushing skyward followed by the cheers of surprise and awe ringing through the air.
We stood as we could see a car approaching, a rare sight I've come to discover. As if the snow beneath me disappeared I found myself slide forward slightly. Coach appearing to fear the worst grabbed me and pulled me close to him as the car went flying passed us.

His firm chest pressed against my back, his muscular arms embracing me. His warm breath kissed the back of my neck. My hairs stood on end. His now familiar scent flooding my nose.
"Are you ok?" His voice soft and full of concern. He released his embrace and used by shoulders to spin me. Now facing him, his eyes scanning me for any damage.
"I'm fine, thanks." I gently shrugged his grip from my shoulders.
His hand found its way to my head, he ruffled my hair again.
His head cocked ever so slightly, his eyes sparkling.
"Good." He gave a small smile.
I turned away and saw the road once again vacant of any cars racing towards us. We crossed and made our way into the wooden building.

We entered the museum part of the building, it was a dimly lit space. Large, clear 'icicles' hanging perilously above our heads. I moved further into the room. A white map of Iceland seems to be floating in the middle of the floor. As I approached I could now see it was suspended in glass, floating above shimmering blue and green crystalline formations. These crystals mimicked the sea surrounding Iceland and although they weren't moving they gave the impressing of a roaring, tumultuous sea. I followed behind Coach like a puppy not wanting to get lost in the darkness. We stood at a backlit board, the board adorned with facts and figures relating to the volcanoes that dotted the island and indeed, gave birth to the island.

I felt, as I moved around from one information board to another, that I was being watched. I could feel heavy eyes resting on me, not once breaking their gaze. I turned slightly. My eyes fell on my watcher. A cold, unmoving face. A white mask, unattached to a body. The mask somehow still in the air, between two pillars of rocks in cages. How was the mask just floating? Why was it watching me? A shiver started to build at the nape of my neck and quickly made its way down my spine. Ten strong prongs jabbed into my waist, five on either side.
"Boo." Coach whispered almost sensually in my ear. I turned and slapped his chest playfully.
"You're such a jerk!" I tried to scold him but couldn't help but chuckle.
"Awww I'm sorry. If you're scared you can always hold my hand."
I can't believe I have to have to put up with this again, slapping his outstretched hand again for the second time today.

We continue our way around the museum. There is a special section reserved for Eyjafjallajökull. A board shows the size of Iceland compared to the widespread effect of the eruption on the rest of the world. The damage highlighted in red only stood to further show how much larger the damage was compared to the tiny island in the middle of the ocean.
"Iceland doesn't like to do anything by half." Coach joked.
I smiled in response.  My stomach grumbled, mine and Coach's eyes lowering to source of my own auditory eruption.
"Sorry, I guess I'm a little hungry." I smiled weakly trying to hide my embarrassment.
"Let's go find you a snack then." Coach marched us out of the museum.
We entered the gift shop. We were surrounded on all sides by authentic Icelandic souvenirs: woolly jumpers and socks, puffin plushies, little troll statues and punny T-shirts.