By any standard, it was an impossible crush I had on her. She was Mt. Everest, a knockout nurse seven years older, in 1972 the difference between Bob Dylan and the Beatles. Almost nowhere else could I have caught her, except for the one place we were, a Catholic summer camp, where isolation, proximity and time could suspend normal convention just enough for it to happen. “Jake, she’s out of your league,” a friend says. “She’s Mt. Everest, and your wearing flip-flops.”
Summer love was never so sweet. But the story ends with the greatest stain on the Catholic Church in a thousand years, a pedophile priest and the ultimate sanction.
"What kind of shot does a nineteen year old kid have with a twenty-six year old nurse? Better than you think, when he has ten weeks to wear her down.
This is a sci-fi thriller that makes an analogy between Europeans coming to the Americas and aliens coming to earth.
Aliens make themselves known only to the United States government through a small series of hostile acts. They shoot down a couple of fighter jets and kidnap a commercial airliner packed with passengers. The one communication they offer is a request for an earth base in an isolated canyon in New Mexico.
Whether the aliens have come in peace or not is up to the president to decide. The president's advisers split. The hawks say not to give up any territory without a fight, what the American Indians should have done with Columbus. The doves say let them land, that it's insane to start a shooting war with a superior power. The doves hope to deal with them, for the secrets of their technologies.
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