The Intruder, short stories by Ralph Mendelson

The Intruder, 18 short stories, by Ralph Mendelson, 196 pages, 6 X 9, paperback, $14.99. Stories of love and betrayal, death, race, and war, carefully crafted with a light and often humorous tone. Order here or go to One-Off Press.

As the raucous laughter died down, awe-filled eyes turned slowly toward the greatest sailor that ever lived. Magellan was the first to stop laughing. Then Balboa and Bartholomew Diaz wiped the tears of laughter from their eyes and turned toward the master. The others followed. Finally, even Vasco da Gama was silent.

Don Pedro de la Monte y Gonzales, on whom all eyes had focused, spat into the pot bellied stove, took a gulp of warm, dark, beer, wiping the dribble from his beard, then, looking at a blank spot high on the opposite wall, addressed himself to the visitor, the Italian mariner, Cristoforo Colombo, who sat beside him—the earnest visitor whose bizarre ideas had brought on all the mirth.

“I will do you a favor, señor,” Don Pedro de la Monte y Gonzales said, “a favor one seldom receives in this ungrateful world. I will tell you the truth. Everything you have said is contrary to nature and to the wisdom that comes from sailing many years on the high seas. Your arguments are clever. I do not deny that. But beware of clever arguments. They will trap you. Let the voice of experience be your guide.”

All heads nodded approval except the head of the visitor. After allowing a moment of silence out of respect for the greatest sailor that ever lived, who had to take another gulp of beer, spit into the stove, then empty his mug in one long, thirsty, swallow, Cristoforo Colombo spoke.
“Not every experience of the past throws light on the future,” he said.

“You are a very convincing talker,” said Don Pedro de la Monte y Gonzales, “and it is easy to believe you while you are talking. Sail west to reach the East. Yes, of course. But common sense and experience . . . Have you ever been near The Edge? Eh?”

Don Pedro de la Monte y Gonzales knew there could be no answer. But he did not exult in his advantage. No. With a modesty that could come only from the assurance of superiority, he said, “Experience is the great teacher of man, and I have had more years of experience sailing the great ships than you have had of life on this earth.”

Don Pedro de la Monte y Gonzales spat into the stove, splashing John Cabot and Jacques Cartier, who had drawn their chairs as close as they could to the greatest sailor that ever lived.
Don Pedro de la Monte y Gonzales cleared his throat. “I attribute my long life—I’m ninety-seven this month—” (he addressed this aside to Ponce de León) “to my never drinking water.”
“If it please you, señor,” Amerigo Vespucci put in timidly, “we would like to hear the rest about this man Colombo, whom you knew so well.”

“Yes, well, there really isn’t any more to tell. He made a big name for himself in the world after I knew him. But why? Eh? Why? He found a few islands in the Atlantic Ocean.

“But they are . . . uh . . . quite large islands,” Arnerigo Vespucci objected, as mildly as he could.
“Yes, large. I’ll grant that. Large. But not rich. Not India. He found some large, empty islands that are completely worthless. He didn’t find India, did he? Eh?”

“He brought back some illiterate savages he thought were Indians, but he was wrong. Just like I told him. He was wrong. I’ll admit he may have sailed farther west than anyone ever did before. By hundreds of miles, perhaps. But . . .”

The old man leaned forward. Everyone in the room knew that he leaned forward when he was about to make a very important statement, and they knew that he made his most important statements in a voice so low it was almost a whisper. Everyone in the room leaned forward and stopped breathing so they would not miss a single syllable of the pronouncement.
“He thought he could reach India.” He shook his head sadly. “But he was a young man. All theory. Had no experience, and wouldn’t listen to a man who had.” The old man paused to give them time to consider. Then, almost in a whisper, Don Pedro de Ia Monte y Gonzales, the greatest sailor that ever lived, said, “But he never even got close to The Edge!”