The Moon Singer Collection

Chapter 1

20 Years ago - The Love Story

20 Years ago - The Love StoryThe Port Avalon University courtyard is alive with pop music on a bright June day. Job applicants chatter with anticipation at being interviewed by the town"s most prestigious companies looking for the best and brightest graduate students. With commencement only two weeks away there is no time to waste for securing one"s future, and every booth in the row of enticingly-designed exhibits has a line of students waiting their turn.

Isaac Nickerson, a Navy officer, stands in front of a recruiting booth at the far end of the row, speaking with pride and encouragement to the young men and women who show an interest in serving their country before going into the private sector.

A poster of an aircraft carrier navigating its way powerfully through the ocean adorns the booth emblazoned with the words: “Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of All who Threaten it.”

“The education you have already received here at Port Avalon U will help you advance to officer status much quicker than if you enlisted with only a high school diploma,” Isaac informs. “Unparalleled career opportunities, experiences, and challenges draw some of the brightest and most skilled people into the Navy – while helping others realize potential they may not even know they have. From the high-tech to the awe-inspiring, America"s Navy offers careers and jobs that fit all backgrounds and interests. There are literally hundreds of distinct professional roles in dozens of exciting fields. And however you serve – as Enlisted or Officer, full-time or part-time – you"ll find unrivaled training, support and experience in a career unlike any other.”

Isaac continues full throttle to several intrigued students while some others peel away. “The most valuable asset to America"s Navy is its people. Sailors represent the best and brightest that America has to offer. And the Navy"s commitment to their well-being is reflected in their benefits package, training opportunities, and life-changing world travel.”

An obtrusive chant of “No more war! No more war!” grows louder and closer. A group of demonstrators carrying signs enters the courtyard and stops right in front of Isaac"s station.

The signs are colorful but ominous: “We can bomb the world to pieces, but we can"t bomb it to Peace” and “When the Rich wage WAR, it"s the Poor who DIE.”

At the front of the line is a girl who takes Isaac"s breath away. Billie Donovan - he will soon learn is her name, with an unruly flowing mane of golden hair, a passionate demeanor and sonorous voice - stands out from the throng. With just one glance, his heart takes an unexpected turn from a firm allegiance to the military to be willing to die for this woman, the goddess Eirene come to earth, the personification of Peace.

Jesus, Isaac chastises himself. Control yourself, man. She is mortal and you are a Navy Captain! And she"s stealing your thunder.

Jesus,Control yourself, man. She is mortal and you are a Navy Captain! And she"s stealing your thunder.Excusing himself from the potential recruits, Isaac approaches the group and stands face to face with Billie. He raises his hands in an effort to quiet them down. Oddly enough they comply, but not without some complaining.

“Hey Dough Boy,” one of them snickers. “Better stand down. We mean business and we have a right…”

Isaac exerts his formidable six-foot-two height. “Yes, you have a right. But first of all I"m not a doughboy. That"s an infantryman from WWI. I"m a Navy Captain.”

“With four stripes and a bar on your shoulder, no less,” this feline-like vision needles him.

“And on my sleeve, as well,” he parries, musing to himself that it should be his heart.

“Not to mention the Eagle on your collar.” Billie Donovan patronizes Isaac with a devilish twinkle in her eyes that raises the hair on his neck. “They certainly stand out on your dress khakis.”

“You seem to know a lot about uniforms for an antiwar girl.” His probing dark eyes do not intimidate Billie.

“Well, I"ve seen my share of uniforms walking around downtown when a ship is in port. And I must say you cut an imposing figure, even if you are a war hawk.”

Isaac finds it amusing that she is swathed in the uniform of the iconic flower child: peasant skirt and blouse, soft moccasins, an Indian headband forming a halo around her shoulder length hair. Appropriately, her right hand is raised in the two-finger sign of Peace. So young to be an anachronism.

“Hey, Billie. Quit the playing around with the enemy here. We"ve got a protest to continue.” Impatient, the band of demonstrators starts to move on without her.

“Don"t worry. I"m coming. Let"s move to the administration office,” Billie commands, and the group moves on, flashing signs and chanting, “No more war, No more war.”

For one fleeting moment, Billie turns back to see Isaac"s curious eyes still following her.

Later that afternoon, Isaac packs up the booth and recruiting documents, loads everything into his jeep and drives down to the university campus pub. He needs a cold one. Inside, the pub is buzzing with animated conversations of every stripe. He sits at the bar and heaves a weary sigh. It has been a long, hot day and the recruiting soliloquy became tiresome.

“I"ll have whatever"s on tap.”

“Sure thing.” The bartender lays the obligatory cocktail napkin on the bar along with a basket of mixed nuts.

“How about something to eat, like some crow?”

In the mirror behind the bar, Isaac sees that same head of unruly hair. He spins the stool around to face Billie Donovan head on. “Well, look who"s here? The leader of the pack.”

“Buy a peacenik a drink?” She invites herself to sit next to him.

“Shirley Temple?”

“Anything with rum in it.”

“Are you even old enough to drink?”

“Seventeen for the next two hours, then I"m legal. But you"re the first to question my age. The bartender doesn"t care.”

Isaac motions the bartender over and a drink for the lady is decided on.

“So how is it at 17, almost 18, that you are at the University already?”

“I"m a savant,” she laughs. “Actually I graduated high school a year early and received a music scholarship.” Billie sips her drink, a Mai Tai.

“Rum is a drink for old salts,” Isaac says. “Are you a sea faring lass?”

“Who me? Not me. Haven"t been on a boat since I was a kid. But I like to find creative ways to get my vitamin C. Cheers.”

They clink glasses in Salute and both take a satisfying swallow.

Salute“So, Navy man, what are you doing recruiting? Shouldn"t you be at sea or something, off to the next combat mission?”

“Not me. I"m a nautical design engineer.”

“Well, that"s a bright light in the darkness here. Someone who creates instead of destroys. So why are you still in the Navy?”

“It"s in my DNA. I come from generations of shipbuilders and seafarers. I wanted to learn the most modern technological advances in designing faster and more efficient ships, and the Navy offered the best opportunity.”

“That"s hard to believe, but if you say so.”

“You"re a snippy one, aren"t you? And what are you all about? Besides disrupting the status quo?”

“Well, that"s a story for another time. For now, I just want to kick back, erase the day from my mind, and enjoy some good company.”

“Well, I"ll drink to that.” Isaac takes a solid swig.

“Hey, Billie, how about a tune?” someone yells across the bar.

“Yeah, tickle those ivories for us, Billie,” another chimes in.

Soon the chant rises up, “Billie, Billie, Billie…”

“Okay, okay,” Billie raises her arms to yield.

Isaac is intrigued. “You play piano?”

“Yeah, a little.”

Billie sits herself down at the upright piano, and plinks on it a bit. “A little out of tune, but here goes. Any requests?”

“How about some Elton John?” The crowd laughs, enjoying the joke.

Attacking the keys with exuberance, Billie plays the opening bars of “Crocodile Rock,” then finishes with a flourishing glissando. Instead of the applause one would normally hear at the end of a flamboyant performance, there is an anticipated silence. Everyone knows what is about to happen.

Deftly, gently, Billie segues from the rock and roll groove to a demonstration of musical “moonlight,” Claude Debussy"s Claire de lune, one of his most famous and recognizable compositions. Being one of the rare pieces in classical music to find its way numerous times into pop culture, it is also one of the most demanding for performers, requiring a sensitivity of touch that would not shatter the delicate and subtle colors of Debussy"s writing.

Claire de luneThe shimmering melody, marked con sordina - a soft muted approach - then grows in brilliance as it proceeds, with an octave passage in rubato tempo, leading to a new melody which Billie executes with even greater sublimity.

con sordinarubatoFamiliar with Billie"s stunning piano skills, the pub crowd listens with rapt attention and respect. For Isaac, there is something he has never felt before in his life. Something like love, but more than love. More like an out of body experience, not that he"s ever had one. But there is this subconscious recognition that if angels could dance on the keyboard they would do so when Billie Donovan plays.

Cheers and Bravos follow Billie back to her seat at the bar. A fresh Mai Tai is waiting for her.

Isaac is speechless. All he can do is stare at this amazing young woman sitting next to him who is at once naive and knowing, and a cultured musician to boot.

“Well, say something,” she challenges in that teasingly sardonic tone of hers. “Never heard anyone play the piano before?”

“Not like that. Never like that.”

A few drinks later, Isaac and Billie walk back to her dorm. The s****l tension is palpable, like that of a movie romance where the heat emanates from the screen without so much as a touch between the two leads. Gentleman that he is, Isaac restrains himself from taking her in his arms right there on the courtyard. In turn, Billie moves away coyly then drifts closer to him. In a dance of courting, they never say a word, but every time their eyes lock, the message is clear.

“Well, here I am,” Billie announces when they arrive. “Will I see you again, before you are deployed, or something?”

He smiles at the idea. “I don"t get deployed. But I do leave tomorrow for an assignment in D.C.”

“Oh. Well, I guess this is it then. It was nice to meet you and get a little drunk with you.”

“Drunk with fascination, I think. Yes. But if it"s okay, I"ll call you when I get back. Now that you"re legal.”

“How long?”

“About a month or two, I think.”

“I"d like that…if you remember me by then.”

“Believe me, Billie Donovan, I could not forget you.”

“In that case, Captain Nickerson, you may call.”

Billie hands him her personal card and he slips it into his shirt pocket. Isaac watches her enter the dorm then turns to walk away, unfulfilled desire overtaking his senses. But moments later, he hears his name being called from a third story window. He turns his eyes upward to see Billie standing there in the window, beckoning him to come up.