The Spaceman and The Arch-Angel ©
By Michael Casey
Mikhail Mikhailovich was a spaceman, a cosmonaut as the
Russians call them, he’d been in space
forever, he held the world record already, he was testing himself to see if Man
could make it to Mars. He and Tim Peake had had a lot of fun in the space
station, but now Tim was gone. So Mikhail was lonely, in fact Mikhail was having
a dark night of the soul, flying high in the sky orbiting the world. He was on
the edge, but bear a bear of a man he told nobody, if only his wife Katarina
was with him to make him strong, but he was floating in space and she was back
in Saint Petersburg.
Michael the Arch-Angel had just pushed back Satan back into
Hell and had sealed the gates with a pair of Rosary beads, now he was taking
Mrs Murphy’s soul back to her body, he was in a hurry before her body died
without her soul inside. At Saint Michael the Arch-Angel flew in space with Mrs
Murphy’s soul safely tucked in his belt by his sword he felt Mikhail’s sorrow.
So much sorry, he flew as fast as he could fly towards to space station, a soul
was in danger, the space station was in danger, a man’s life and soul was in
danger. Mikhail was on the verge of thinking of doing something mad bad and
sad. Michael felt this and as an angel he must intervene, he spiralled directly
towards the space station, he went straight inside and grabbed Mikhail’s arm.
An angel does not need to use doors, the spirit just walks
through walls even in space, love knows no boundaries, and an angel is just
that, love. Saint Michael the Arch-Angel gave Mikhail a bear-hug and nearly
broke his ribs. Mikhail screamed in fear, Michael just laughed in his face and
said he screamed like a little girl, was he going to pee his pants as an
encore. Mikhail rubbed his eyes, there was angel in front of him, speaking
Russian, in fact he sounded like his own old grandfather, with the same local
accent.
I could punch your lights out, but I’m an angel so let’s
talk, have you got any beer, my wings are tired I need a beer, asked the angel.
Mikhail laughed, where do we have the room for a barrel of beer in a space
station? The angel reached behind him and two pints of Stella Artois appeared
in chalices, so Mikhail took one and drank it, after such a long time in space
it was heavenly to say the least. So Mikhail and the angel had 4 pints each,
which is enough to wet their whistle if they were both Russian. Mikhail wasn’t
scared any more, if this was a dream he was going to enjoy it. He’d love a big
sandwich of Russian beef and bread with lettuce and tomatoes, so once more
Saint Michael reached behind him and the sandwiches appeared. Is Paul Daniels
behind you joked Mikhail, Tim the English spaceman had told Mikhail about Paul
Daniels during his time on the space station. No replied the angel, but God is
behind me, and in front of me and in all directions too, he has my back, and
your’s too, that’s why I’m saving you.
Mikhail, looked at his feet, he’d felt a failure, he could
have, but he didn’t, an angel had saved him. Michael the Archangel gave him
another pint of Stella Artois, Paul Daniels was working overtime you could say.
Why were you in space anyway asked Mikhail. I was returning a soul to a body,
Mrs Murphy was risking her soul to save the life of her priest, or rather the
soul of her priest. That’s when Satan pounced, so I had to give him a kicking,
and then mum asked we to return Mrs Murphy’s soul to her body, before her body
expired. Mum who is your mum? Mary is my mum, she’s everybody’s mum, she
prefers to be called ”mum” it’s the highest title of all. Mikhail Mikhailovich
started to cry, so Michael wiped his nose with his wings.
I wish I could be a father but being in the space program
has put paid to that, I am a hero of Mother Russia, but my own wife cannot be a
mother, we will never know the joy of children. Mikhail cried again, the angel
gave him a huge hug, almost breaking the spaceman’s ribs and Mikhail’s face
turned bright red due to lack of oxygen. A tear fell from the angel’s eye, it
trickled down his face and splashed Mrs Murphy’s soul, this was enough for Mrs
Murphy she was saying the Rosary in a nanosecond. Her body was dead by now, but
at least she could pray for the spaceman.
Michael and Mikhail had some fresh fruit, bananas and
grapes, washed down with more Stella Artois. Mikhail unburdened himself to the
angel, all his hopes and dreams, being a spaceman was the last of them. Tim had
told Mikhail about David Bowie and the two of them had put the face makeup on
and sung the songs. Now Tim was gone and Mikhail missed him, but most of all
Mikhail missed something he’d never have. Children. As a child Mikhail loved
listening to stories, stories from all over Russia and everywhere else too, but
then studying came along.
Saint Michael the Archangel has a secret, he loves stories
too, he’s spent ages, literally Ages listening to stories from all over the
world. So as they drunk their Stella Artois Michael told Mikhail some of the
stories. First in Russian for the Russian stories, then he switched to Chinese
for the Chinese stories, Indian for the Indian stories, and Japanese for the
Japanese stories. Michael knew thousands of stories in told them all in all the
native languages. The food and drink flowed, Paul Daniels really is a great
magician, how he hid all of it in the space station ready to save a soul, a
Russian spaceman’s soul we’ll never know, perhaps he’s just an angel.
How long would it take to tell tales from all over the
world, as long as there is food and drink on the table there will always be
tales, and this angel doesn’t follow Logic, only Love. In Earth time 50 years
had passed, or was it just a dream? Michael and Mikhail hugged, this time
Michael could not breathe and he turned red. Mikhail had been filled with Love,
and food and drink thanks to maybe Paul Daniels, so he was a big Russian Bear
once more.
You are Mikhail Mikhailovich a Spaceman who did not fall to
earth, you are the Storyteller from Space, you are a “father” to billions of
children, and to your wife you are the best husband in space and on earth who
gave her seven children, angels love the number 7, Snow White really did exist
you know, but that’s another story. Mikhail snored, he been dreaming hadn’t he.
Michael flew off into space, for decades he’d been talking
to Mikhail, it was a coincidence he’d spotted Mikhail, he thanked God. As
Michael looked at his watch, by which I mean the rotation of the stars in
space, he realised he’d actually gone back in time by 2.9 nanoseconds. Einstein
had been livid when he’d got to Heaven to discover that Time and Relativity was
just one of God’s jokes.
Mrs Murphy’s soul was returned to her body, but her 50 years
of prayers so that Mikhail could have a family had not been wasted, and as for
her priest well that’s another story, Tears for a Butcher by Michael Casey to
be exact, if God gives me the time to finish it.
The next night Mikhail said he had a story for all the Russian
children, so he told them about the night the angel came to the space station.
This was an instant hit all over Mother Russia, it was so funny too, though he
had to explain who Paul Daniels was, they liked the story a lot, not a little
bit. The Indians wanted to hear the story so could he tell them too, so he did
but Mikhail told them in one of the major Indian languages, and as each child
hear the story they hear it in the voice of their own grandfather. Japan was
next and they were astounded too, not only did know their language but the
accent was perfect, Mikhail was like a United Nations, his stories perfectly
told demanded silence, followed by tears of joy.
Mikhail spent another month in space, each night he’d tell
stories to the world’s children. He was out of this world literally and in all
other ways. When it was time for him to return he was an international hero,
for science and for story-telling. Putin himself said he drive him from the
airport to the Kremlin for a reception. When Mikhail came down the steps from
the plane his wife jumped into his arms, Putin was dressed as a chauffeur, the
election was next month and he know good PR. The president as servant of the
people. Putin did have to close the privacy
screen in the Zil because the spaceman started on creating his happy family on
the back seat of the Zil limousine.
So Mikhail got what he wanted a big happy Russian family,
was the angel right in guessing 7, no he was wrong, Mikhail and his wife only
had 3 pregnancies. Three being Mrs Murphy’s favourite number, three sets of
triples. Mikhail set up his own Utube station to tell stories to the world’s
children, he called it You’ll Like It, a lot. Then his friend Putin suggested
he should run for president, so that’s how a spaceman called Mikhail became the
President of Russia, because an angel came acalling, twinkle, twinkle.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.