6 - Strangers When We Meet

163 9 4
                                    

I can remember the amusement in that voice. By that simple word, it seemed he loved making light of what should have been a grand entrance. But perhaps it was the combination of confusion and surprise on our faces that drew his attention.

Standing before us was David Bowie.

Everything about him seemed so real and human, but my first impression was that he wasn't. I looked back to the sky, but my eyes weren't met with the same star that was there only seconds earlier. Realization subconsciously setting in, I turned to David, who had fixed his gaze on me as if he wondered what I was thinking or looking for. His eyebrows were raised and his hands clasped behind his back, but his mouth was relaxed.

Next, my eyes took in his appearance. He looked different from what the world had come to know. I recalled the many pictures I had seen-outrageous attire, glitter and stage makeup-but this time, that was gone. Instead, he was dressed simply: a double-breasted brown suit, completed with a turquoise tie and matching platform shoes that shined in the moonlight. But his hair was exactly the same, glowing bright orange against the dark setting, and his thin frame stood only inches taller than me. Everything about him was relatively normal, except for his eyes-one pupil larger than the other-and they reminded me of the oddity before me.

"Jamie," Nancy said, worry clearly in her voice as she stumbled towards me. "What the heck is going on?"

She clasped her hands tightly around my arm, prompting me to come out of my thoughts and break away from my staring contest with David. I blinked, realizing I needed to say something.

"Um..." I began weakly. "Are you from-" I paused, fearful that I would sound crazy, but pointed to the sky anyway.

He closed his eyes for a moment and nodded, a smile spreading across his face for the first time.

"But how-how is this possible?" I continued. "Are you really David Bowie-in the flesh?"

He nodded again.

"And we're not just imagining this?"

Then he shook his head. I was beginning to wonder if he'd ever say something other than a greeting.

"I don't understand. What relation could you have to all this?"

"More than you realize," he replied, his English cockney-accented voice making it's obvious entrance.

There was silence again, none of us seeming to know what to say next. But then he cleared his throat, glancing between us cautiously as if we might attack. "You two look terrified," he added humorously. "Come on, loosen up-I'm not going to hurt you." We barely budged, even though I wanted to comply. The longer he stood in front of us, the more my interest grew. Nancy, however, remained tense by my side, so I followed suit. He laughed before continuing, "Clearly, you've heard my message."

"Your message?" Nancy said. He switched his gaze to her, relieving me from being in the spotlight. "That was your voice on the radio?"

He looked off with his eyes like he was pondering her question. "Which time?" he asked with a smirk.

"Last night," I said before realizing the joke. "I mean, the voice that spoke. It wasn't a song. Nancy and I heard it at the same time."

"Yes, quite dramatic, wasn't it? That was Ziggy you heard."

"Ziggy?" Nancy said. "But you're Ziggy."

"Yes, well Ziggy is one of my personas. What people don't realize is that I'm from space. Everyone thinks Ziggy is the extraterrestrial, but they have it all wrong." He peeked at the candles flickering behind us. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

COSMICWhere stories live. Discover now