Southend U3A

August 2024

Stargazer - Lynn Gale

It was over in seconds. A high-pitched scream echoed over the heads of the crowd of excited people.

‘Did you hear that?’ I asked Gina.

‘Hear what?’

‘That strange sound.’

‘No idea what you are talking about. Come on, we need to hurry before the heavens open.’

I looked up at the blue, cloudless sky. ‘What...’ But Gina had picked up speed and marched off towards an enormous blue and white Marquee, taking up most of the backfield on Glenister's farm.

When Gina came into the office last week to announce she had a spare ticket for Attacan Stargazer’s upcoming ‘They Are Here’ Tour, she was met with silence as her work colleagues suddenly became very busy.

‘I’d rather listen to my mother-in-law tell me step by step how she makes her pickled beetroots again,’ Cliff remarked to Max. ‘All because I said they were delicious.’

‘I’d like to go,’ I said, giving Gina my best wide-eyed, expectant look.

‘Really!’ Gina was sceptical. ‘I wouldn’t have taken you for a believer.’

‘Oh, yes,’ I put on my most earnest expression, ‘I've always been fascinated by the idea of Alien life, and to see Attacan in the flesh will be amazing.’

What a coup for my ‘People are Strange' blog; the listeners will love me exposing this so-called Alien expert.

The place was heaving under the oppressive heat of the canvas. Over five hundred people must have been crammed inside, all waiting for the man himself to appear.

The Attacan devotees fanned themselves with the £10 fanzines sold by people dressed in green onesies and bug-eyed alien masks. As the temperature rose to an unbearable level, I thought they must be roasting in those outfits.

‘Isn't this amazing!’ Gina enthused, sipping her £6 bottle of water.

‘Absolutely.’ I agreed. It's amazing they can get away with those prices. I glanced around as people of all ages chatted excitedly, most wearing a large green button badge depicting Attacan Stargazer's smouldering profile. This man certainly loves his image.'

A portly red-faced man appeared on the small podium. He leaned towards the microphone, ‘Ladies, Gen…’ Everyone grimaced as a high-pitched wail bounced around the tent. Men in black rushed to twiddle buttons on the control panel in the corner. ‘Ah, that’s better,’ he said.’ Ladies, Gentlemen and others thank you for attending this evening. It's lovely to see so many believers out there. Before Mr Stargazer takes to the stage, let me tell you about tonight’s once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. ‘Along with our merchandise available to the right of the stage, for only one-hundred and fifty-five pounds, you will be able to have a personalised, signed photograph taken with Attacan, along with a copy of his latest book, ‘We Are Only Dust.’ An offer not to be missed. We accept all recognised credit and debit cards.’

I shook my head. 'A nice little earner. They must be raking it in.'

‘Without more ado,’ he said, ‘I have the pleasure of introducing you to the one, the only, Mr Attacan Stargazer. A loud fanfare, similar to the theme of ‘2001: A Space Odyssey, rang out from the six-foot speaker in the corner.’

How pretentious, I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Setting my mobile to record, l tucked it into my newly brought twenty-pound alien purse, complete with red antennas. Now for the fiasco.

As the music died away, the crowd erupted into loud chanting,’ At-ta-can…At-ta-can.’ Attacan Stargazer strolled onto the stage, his arms aloft, like a god, welcoming his subjects. Standing a little over five feet tall, bald, he wore a shiny, grey suit that hung loosely on his small frame.

Perhaps his personality made up for his lack of image.

He stood in the centre and waited until the chanting died down. As the crowd quietened, he stared at the sea of expectant faces. Finally, he asked quietly, ‘Why are you here?’

‘What did he say?’ and ‘I can’t hear’ came from the people at the back,’ who began to press forward, filling the gangways until not an inch of floor space remained.

‘That's better; now I can see you all.’ Attacan walked to the edge of the stage; his deep voice belied his small stature. ‘Who believes!’ he shouted. ‘Who believes we are not alone? As if to emphasise his words, a crack of lightning caused the lights in the tent to flicker, followed by a loud rumble of thunder. Then, heavy rain began to beat a hypnotic tattoo on the canvas, adding to the oppressive atmosphere.

‘W

e do!’ The audience shouted as one. ‘You were right,’ I turned to Gina. ‘About the weather.’

‘I know,’ she replied, a look of rapture on her face as she kept her eyes fixed firmly on Attacan. I glanced around. Everyone had the same look as they s

tared into the face of the man on the stage. They are so gullible,' I thought. This is bordering on fanaticism.

‘But not everyone here today is a believer,’ Attacan paused for effect. ‘No! someone is here to ridicule and expose us as fools and fakes.’ The mood shifted as angry mutterings echoed among the gathered fans.

‘Surely, he doesn't mean me. How could he know?’

‘Yes, I mean you.’ His angry voice was inside my head. ‘You think I don’t know about you and your blog.’

Terrified, I grabbed Gina by the arm. ‘We need to leave now!’

She turned to me, Her face void of emotion. ‘Oh no, you can't leave.’

I tried to push past the dense mass of people, but there was no way through. The crowd cleared, and Attacan appeared before me. His eyes flashed purple as he approached me. ‘Soon, you will believe,’ he said.

I heard that high-pitched scream again.

It was coming from me.

‘Welcome to tonight's instalment of ‘People Are Strange.’ I want to tell you about a truly incredible man I met.’ I smiled at the signed photograph on my desk.