Page 50 of The Life Experiment
For the first time since joining the experiment, Angus was excited for their upcoming counselling session. Usually, he dreaded them. Conversations with Saira often centred on Angus’s family, the lies he’d told Layla and his feelings towards himself.
‘Sometimes, the hardest things to discuss are the ones we most need to,’ Saira said towards the end of their last session, six days ago. Angus had remained silent at that comment, but he felt different now. Now, he had lots to say. He wanted to talk to Saira about Haven Hospice. In fact, he wanted to talk to everyone about it. Layla especially.
The problem was, Angus had told Layla he worked in IT. Where having the time to volunteer midweek would fit into that narrative, Angus didn’t know. And so, another lie was added to the list. A list that was so long, Angus could barely keep track of it anymore.
Swallowing his unease, Angus entered the building.
‘You made it,’ Britta enthused when she spotted him, then she turned to the man beside her. Older than Angus, he was wearing a polo shirt that read ‘LTC Plumbing’. ‘Angus, meet Aleksander. He’s volunteered here for eight years.’
‘Nice to meet you,’ Angus said, shaking the man’s coarse hand.
‘I thought it might be nice if you and Aleksander worked together today,’ Britta said. ‘He can show you the ropes.’
‘Haven’s hosting a Christmas crafts day in a few weeks for residents and their loved ones,’ Aleksander explained. ‘Our job is to package the craft kits. Think lots of glitter.’ Aleksander’s grin was wide and his voice had the distinctive lilt of a Polish accent.
Angus liked him immediately. ‘I think I can handle that,’ he replied.
After signing him in on the hospice’s registration system, Aleksander led Angus down a corridor to a room near the end. Inside, they were greeted by a large table and crates stuffed with crafting materials.
‘There’s a list of what each bag needs to contain,’ Aleksander said, plucking a set of instructions from the top of a crate. ‘How about we group the items first. Then, if we divide them, I can put the first half into a bag, pass it to you and you can add the rest?’
‘Like a manufacturing line,’ Angus replied, examining a stencil for a set of antlers.
Aleksander grinned. ‘Exactly.’
For the next few minutes, the men set about grouping glitter pens, pompoms and glue sticks. Then they began to construct the packs. Soon, they found their rhythm, assembling bags at speed. Angus was so in the flow of the routine that he didn’t stop to think what the kits were going to be used for until he heard a child laughing in the corridor outside.
This is going to be someone’s last Christmas,he thought. As his stomach plummeted, Angus’s death date flashed before his eyes. He had so much time left, while the people he was making kits for hadso little. Leaning in, he handled each item with care, hoping that the recipient would feel some joy from them.
‘So,’ Aleksander said, once the men had packaged fifteen bags. ‘What brings you to Haven?’
‘Curiosity, I guess,’ Angus replied. When he caught Aleksander’s raised eyebrow, he smiled. ‘It’s not as strange as it sounds. For a while, I’ve been wondering what to do with my life. I stumbled across this place, and something clicked.’
Aleksander nodded then handed Angus another bag. ‘So you want to volunteer?’
‘Not exactly,’ Angus admitted. ‘I’m here to learn what the hospice does. How they help and what more can be done. If there’s a gap, I’d like to use my resources to plug it.’
‘You have money.’ Angus expected a question, but it was a statement. Aleksander grinned. ‘I can tell, and not just because of the car you drive. You seem well-off.’
Angus laughed. ‘I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing,’ he said, adding a glue stick to a bag. ‘What’s your story? How come you’re here?’
As soon as Angus asked the question, he regretted it. Lulled into a false sense of security by the friendly conversation, Angus had forgotten where they were. But, as Aleksander’s smile faded at the edges, Angus realised his error.
‘My daughter, Mia,’ Aleksander said after a moment. ‘She was diagnosed with cancer when she was seven.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Angus exhaled.
Aleksander flashed him a smile. ‘It’s okay. We were lucky. We never had to use a hospice.’ Relief surged through Angus. ‘Mia’s eighteen now. A grown-up, or so she tells me. She goes to university soon. Once, her being well enough to leave home was all I dreamed of. Now the time is here, it might just break my heart.’ A half-smile softened Aleksander’s features. ‘I come here to honour the people who aren’t as lucky asmy family. I have to do something. Pay it back. Help the ones who need it.’
‘That’s brave. It can’t be easy, being around a place that reminds you of the hardest time of your life.’
‘It’s not,’ Aleksander admitted. ‘But part of me thinks that if I do this, I can keep Mia’s cancer away. Silly, yes?’
‘That’s not silly at all,’ Angus replied. ‘I’m really sorry your family went through that.’
Aleksander shrugged in an ‘it is what it is’ way. ‘I’m not the only one. I see it in you too, you know. The sadness that only comes from knowing pain like this.’
For a moment, the men only looked at each other, but then Angus gave a small confirmational nod.
