Episode 1 part 2 - Micheal's Angel

I was surprised to find Michelangelo work as quickly as he does. In basically no time he had a rough model half imbedded in rock. The artist smiled at me and gave me a hand full off fine sand, asking me to polish the legs as he worked on the face. I agreed and eventually a true masterpiece occurred…only it was still part of a marble block. It seemed that the doctor was contented by the result and I even saw him run his hand over the smooth marble for a moment. I understood this motion; if I hadn’t just ragged open my hands by polishing it, I would too he happily stroking the surface. “good!” he suddenly spoke. “now we need to place this in the sight of the angel.” We nodded and struggled to pick up the massive piece of rock. I can assure you it was heavy, even with the three of us trying to lift it. “isn’t there an easier way to move these things?” I asked Michelangelo, realizing this was something I never had to learn. Seemingly, this question left him to wonder, and I understood this wasn’t something he usually worried about. The doctor shook his head. “it’s not far, we’ll just carry it”

I suppose the doctor had a good reason to carry the 80 kilos of marble all the way to the back yard. It was very heavy to carry with only three people but we managed and as it stood where we wanted it to be, we noticed the angel statue had already turned to the window. As if it had been looking at us. If I did not know better I’d think I saw greet on its face and that really freaked me out. The Doctor smiled and, while he kept looking at the angel without single blink, he nudged us back. “you two, hide.” He hissed at us and he didn’t need to repeat that advice. Michelangelo and I crab walked out of the porch and soon hid under a parked market-trolley. My view was little less than Michelangelo’s butt. Not like I disliked that view, Michelangelo had a very fine butt, but I also wanted to see if the Doctor was safe. My questions were answered quickly as the skinny man soon joined us under the trolley with a big grin on his face. “it worked!” he did absolutely no effort to talk softly. “the angel is working on the bait, now we need some Mirrors and it’ll all be good!” he sure sounded like a child playing his favourite game. “Quick! What are you still doing under here!? Grab all mirror’s you can find, Allons-y!”
Without thinking twice, all three of us crawled back to the street and started to run around gathering any mirror we could find. Stealing them of carriages, borrowing them from ladies…anything. Until I ran into the marked I was earlier and found a marketer loading a full body-size mirror. I took the coins from my pocket and hurried to the man. “Sir!” I shouted. “I really want that mirror! Any price!” and I tossed him the coins. The florins I had got earlier, but also a few euro’s. I hoped the last would trick him into thinking I offered him a lot of money and, to my surprise, it worked. I didn’t wait and just lifted the mirror with the strength of panic and hurried to the trolley we hid on earlier.
“DOCTOR!” I shouted and the doctor turned around quickly and helped me carry the mirror to the Angel. Seeing the creature made shivers go down my spine. It was strangely maneuvered around the unfinished statue Michelangelo had made for us and seemed very preoccupied with what it was doing. Even though, now, it obviously couldn’t do anything. I saw the Doctor and Michelangelo had already made a circle of mirrors and mine filled the gap that was left. “Andrew, close your eyes” the doctor said, and even though I was scared I listened, closing my eyes.
It was as if ages passed before the Doctor told me to open them again. What I saw was possibly even scarier as what I had seen before. The angel had caught a view of the mirror and with that it was now looking at itself, unable to move. But the look of pure panic that was on its face. Sharp teeth visible in a soundless scream as it seemed to almost lovingly hold the statue it had been working on. I hadn’t seen Michelangelo come to us, but he suddenly placed his worn hand on my shoulder and smiled. “Well then, Doctor, Andrew. From Ireland.” He winked and my heart skipped a beat. “the thing is frozen in place, you can now return to your monasteries.” And then it clicked, I understood why Michelangelo had been so surprised. Being from Ireland, in this time, meant you was most likely a monk. I decided not to argue his assumptions. The Doctor shook his head. “there is one more thing we need to do” he spoke as he walked towards the angel. “we can’t kill it, but we can weaken it. Mike, come here” the man was grinning like an idiot, but probably for whole other reason than I was. “take this scalp and take away from this angel what you think it’s needing the most. One thing. Don’t stand between the angel and the mirror.”
Quick at work, the sculptor knowingly hit off the wings, feet and arms. What was left was a pathetic excuse for a weeping angel and the doctor nodded. “a bucket of acid over that and then, Mike, I need you to leave the city for a while.” I shook my head. “but the pope will come for the Sixtine Chappelle!” I hissed to the doctor hoping Michelangelo would not hear me, and the doctor nodded. “and what did Michelangelo do when the pope came?” my eyes went wide as realization came. “he fled to the mountain groves.” I spoke out loud. “we make him flee to the mountain groves.”
If Michelangelo had even heard us he didn’t show, already squeezing lemons to acquire the acid we needed. I decided to help him while the Doctor did who knows what. Lemon juice bit into my hands that were still rough from policing marble but I didn’t comment, it was important we did this. Luckily lemons were growing around a lot in the warm climate of Italy but we made sure not to pick the very ripe ones so our juice would be even more acidy. We didn’t talk at all as we worked for hours but I found myself whistling tunes that I remembered from my childhood. Whiskey in the Jar, The Wild Rover, The Ferryman, The Spanish Lady, these were all songs my grandfather used to sing for me as we sat by the fire. He would sip his tea, or whiskey if it was after 6, and tell me stories of brave Irishmen fighting the Norsemen, each other or the English. Endless fights for freedom and survival, they made me feel proud and triggered my interest in history. It was almost absurd to think that right now, Ireland barely existed. I was squeezing lemons with Michelangelo, for heaven’s sake! The bucket was now quite full and I looked up to search for the doctor, who was doing something to the angel with a strangely whirring device. “Doctor?” he turned around. “will this be enough?” he didn’t even look as he cheerfully declared it was fantastic. We carried the bucket to the angel and quickly poured it all over. “this Acid will bite into the stone” the doctor finally explained. “the day the mirror is gone, or the angel is no longer looking at is, the acid will eat it’s bones.” Now, that sounded nasty, but we nodded. “we leave now, all of us. Goodbye Mike it was an honour, come Andrew.” He gestured me to follow him. I sighed and offered Michelangelo a hand that he took to pull me in and give me a one armed hug. “keep working” I muttered into his chest, “You’re very good” and he laughed. “So was you, Andrew the Irishman” and with that, he let me go. I wondered if that would be forever my last name in his mind but didn’t take the time to think about it as I ran after the Doctor, back into that weird phone booth. I knew for sure Michelangelo would take the advice and flee into the mountains, because that is what history tells us.
And now I’m home, Writing about what happened to me. A story I hope will be taken into the future not by me but by time itself. And may people read it, like you just did, and whether they believe me or not, think of the past with a smile. The Doctor promised to visit me again, so maybe we will meet one day.
Yours Sincerely,
Andrew Collony, Dublin University Department of History, 2021.

PS. If any books or other sources speak of Andrew the Irishman, a portrait by Michelangelo, that is me but to this day it is nowhere to be found.