Waiting for Columbus

“Thank you for the game, Your Majesty. I was lucky to win.”

“No. You played well. You deserved to win. Another game?”

The king smiles as he places the colored balls into a tight formation. Columbus is disarmed. He feels closer than ever to wi

“Women,” the king says as he hands the stick to Columbus, “confuse and confound me. Yet they are ridiculous, necessary mysteries.” He picks a white ball from the bowl and heaves it through the open window. They hear three clicks and a splash.

Columbus breaks the formation on the table. “There is a problem with the queen?” Three solid-colored balls disappear. His next shot should be the two ball, a solid, in the far right corner. But he picks a striped ball and lines it up.

“You wouldn’t purposely try to lose because I am the king, would you, Mr. Columbus?”

“In all honesty, Your Majesty, I should like very much to ask a question.”

“In all honesty, proceed.”

“Should I try to lose, Your Majesty? Would that be a good idea?”

“Well, you’re a wise and intelligent man, Mr. Columbus.” He leans back against a pillar. Smiles. “We had a very enjoyable day together, didn’t we?”

“It was a glorious day.” Columbus stands up straight and looks at the king. A gangly, slouching young man with deep-blue eyes. If he were not the king, Columbus would not trust him. Come to think of it, just because he is a king was no reason to trust him. Deceitful, cruel, and vicious were words frequently attributed to this king, and even the queen. Too much leisure time, Columbus thinks. But this king has been nothing but honest, forthright, and kind to him.

Do I lose, or do I play the game the best I can? Do my ships teeter in the balance on this decision? How important is it to me that I win?

Columbus walks around the table. Observes the obvious two-ball shot, then sees a three-ball combination that would drop the four ball. A difficult combination shot. The formation of the three balls appeals to Columbus. He thinks about the similar star formation; three stars slashed across the sky like a belt. He chooses this shot. He chooses to try and win, regardless of any consequences. Decides he must be Christopher Columbus whether it hurts his dream or not. He bets on this king’s honor and drops the four ball gently and exactly.

“An excellent shot,” Ferdinand says and claps Columbus on the shoulder.

Columbus wins seven more games. The king doesn’t even come close to wi

They do not feel the direct heat of the day inside the stone building, but the air is blistering and still. Long streams of sunlight from high, narrow fenestrations slash through hanging dust in the room. The king walks the entire long room away from the pool table to an elevated throne, pulls his robes aside, and sits. Three servants bring wine to the king and then deliver a goblet to Columbus. The wine is red and slightly chilled.

“Leave,” the king says to the servants, who bow out the door and shut it behind them.

“Have you had sufficient time to ponder my riddle, Mr. Columbus?” The king must speak loudly in order to assure that Columbus hears him at the far end of the room.

“The problem with women in general or the queen specifically, Your Majesty?”

“Come down here, Mr. Columbus. So we can talk.”

Columbus walks toward the throne. Stands before the elevated king and is reminded of his place. He bows his head.

“I am sorry, Your Majesty. I have no answers to the riddle of women.” He thinks of the simple co

Ferdinand’s face transforms into something awful. As if painful memories have suddenly risen to the surface of churning water. Hopeless despair. He covers his face with his hands. “Women, Mr. Columbus, women. There are times, in the middle of the night, in complete darkness, when they weep. I ca

“Are you speaking of the queen, Your Majesty?”

“The queen? No. The queen does not weep. She has never wept. She is the strongest woman I know. The queen and I have no co

Columbus does not answer.

“What troubles you, sir? Are you pondering your ships or do you, too, contemplate the quandary of women? Or are you ill?”

“Acquiring the ships is often on my mind, Your Majesty.”

“And what does the queen say?”

“She says wait until the fall of Granada.”

“Well, that’s what you should do then. When we walk the courtyards of the Alhambra, you’ll have your ships. And while we wait for the queen to reclaim Granada, we shall play much pool and do much riding. For you are also a mystery, Mr. Columbus. You wish to sail off into the unknown. Possibly to your death. To introduce Christianity to Japan and the Indies. To bring honor and wealth to Spain. This wealth part is the portion of your proposal that most interests the queen and me. We believe you are either very brave or very stupid-or absolutely crazy. But regardless of all these things, you are inspired. Yes. Mostly, I think, you are inspired. Come, let’s play more pool.” He grabs the wine bottle and his glass in one hand, and Columbus ’s sleeve in the other. Pulls the baffled navigator the length of the room.

“I tell you what, Mr. Columbus. Since you are a good friend of Spain, I will make you a proposition.” He gathers the balls from the pockets around the table. “I’ll play you one game for your ships.”

Columbus turns toward the King, shocked by the realization that this may be it. He’s shocked by the whimsical, careless nature of this offer. “What?”

“I’ll play you for your ships. Win the next game and three caravels are yours. Provisions included. You’ll have to find men dumb enough to follow you.”

Columbus is stu