Mold & Light

The damp room with moldy wallpaper and a cracked floor was the best he could find. Maybe even turn around with help. The windows barely clung to wholeness, but nothing a newspaper scrap wouldn’t mend. This is who he was. A patch here, a hasty repair there. Same with his friends whose trauma he attempted to bandage in the past year.

He had to care for them — or at least, that’s what he told himself. People with problems like his, some even worse. Maybe they didn’t need him anymore, but they needed someone. A sorry bunch they were that’s for sure. Old Fredrick with his peculiar hat he never took off, Chloe, whenever she showed up, and Venn — with his damn cat. Simon’s nose twitched at the thought of it.

After a brief walk around the room to check if anything was worth keeping, Simon noted that pretty much everything was dusty old junk to throw out. His fingers rested on a shabby old desk covered in a thick layer of dust. Inside, he found a light bundle wrapped in moldy cloth. The dust made him gasp for air, coughing it all out. The cough was hard, burning his lungs as he struggled to keep his balance.

He loosened the cloth and found two time-bleached photographs. In the dim corner of the room, light slithered in just enough to reach the faces—familiar, like dreams half-remembered. One showed a girl, maybe twenty, with ashen hair and eyes too dark for comfort — eyes that felt uncomfortably familiar, like someone he used to know but couldn’t place. They stared past the frame, through him, as if remembering. He set it down, uneasy, and could’ve sworn her gaze shifted as he did.

The next showed a man of indeterminate age, hair chopped into a comical bowl cut that demanded remark. Simon squinted, chasing details in the gloom. It was something about the way he sat — broad frame hunched, as if folded inward — gave Simon pause. He looked like someone who had once been strong.

A strong thud behind Simon made him jump. It took him a second to recognize the figure peaking from outside the doorframe.

“Come in”, he said with a coarse voice.

The figure stepped in, light catching the sharp lines of Fredrich’s scowling face. The tall man ducked beneath the frame. His gray hat sat with purpose—as if it belonged here more than he did.

“It’s just like home.” His face remained slack, with deep shadows in his eyes. His thin arms and legs looked like twigs in his unfitting suit, but Simon thought not to comment on it. Fredrich was an odd fellow who didn’t really open about his life as much as he liked to. Had he ever spoken to the others?

“I am sorry, Fredrich, but I haven’t cleaned up yet. It’s a bit of a mess, this place, but I’m sure we can lighten it up.” Simon’s tone wasn’t very convincing, but it was hard to read Fredrich’s face to tell if this bothered him.

“I find it charming.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Let’s not change it.”

Simon wasn’t sure this was a good idea. He would do anything to make Fredrich feel at ease. Whatever calm the room had until now was abruptly demolished by the loud voices of Chloe and Venn, discussing the demonic properties of the feline family. As usual, Venn’s sneeze-inducing cat was on his shoulder. Simon would side with Chloe about the little devils.

“What is this tomb you’ve found, Simon?” Chloe laughed. Her warm voice lightened his thoughts. He straightened a bit, gesturing to take her jacket.

“It’s good to see you, Chloe,” Simon said. She really didn’t come often — usually it was just him, Venn, and Fredrich. The two of them weren’t the easiest company to entertain, but he tried his best for them.

“I’m a busy girl, you know it,” she smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “Where do we sit, Simon?”

“I… I don’t know, I just came here actually. Did Venn tell you about this place?”

“Yes, I thought we shouldn’t leave you to clean it up all by yourself, Simon,” Venn grunted. Venn was a bulky man, more round than muscular, but even at a glance you could tell he was a hard worker. His rough hands could easily break the door if he even leaned on it. It was comical to see him next to Chloe’s small and gentle figure.

“I’m grateful. Really, I am.”

Chloe tapped Simon on the cheek with a smile on her face, while Venn only shook his head. The big man darted into another room, followed by his cat, checking out what they had to work with. Chloe, on the other hand, pulled out a handkerchief and started dusting off the clock at the far end of the room. Fredrich, was just looking around — not really touching anything.

“What are these pictures?” he asked.

“Found them in the desk.” Simon said. “Do you find them familiar?”

“No.” Fredrich carefully arranged them to lean on the wall. Simon wasn’t sure how to feel. The photos still unsettled him.

“Four chairs?” Venn yelled from the other room.

Simon froze for a moment.

“Uhm… yeah,” he responded.

In a few brief moments, Chloe and Venn managed to set things up. The wood groaned under their weight as they sat. Simon worried Venn might snap the chair, but it held.

“So, I think we should start with Chloe, who decided to show her presence to us on this fine night,” Simon said jokingly. He was always awkward around her, but to her credit, she never poked at him about it.

“I’ve been alright these past few weeks,” she began. “Caught up with the old group once… reminded me why we stopped showing up.”

“Bunch of old farts,” Venn laughed, slapping the poor table.

“They are,” Chloe said, but her face showed something else. “Anyways, here I am, so cheers to that!”

“Chloe, I…”

“Oh, come on, man, it’s not like you must censor every word for me. Chloe, dear, don’t mind him.”

“You’re right, Venn.” The words landed hollow, but he said them anyway.

As Venn and Chloe chatted about his cat, Simon noticed something shifting in the corner of his eye. He spun around, but there was nothing going on. Just old Fredrich, playing with his hat, to which Simon smiled.

“You alright?” Venn asked, checking on him. He and Chloe shared that look they always make when it’s about Fredrick. Simon really didn’t feel good about it, but he didn’t raise it now.

“Yeah, I just thought something crossed the drawer over there.”

“You serious?” Chloe asked, slowly pulling back and folding her arms tightly.

“No, probably just my imagination, don’t worry about it,” he said quietly.

While Chloe had made huge progress from her past, she still had trouble with things like this. And Simon hated himself for saying it, forgetting about her fears. It was Venn, months ago, who had decided to find a kitten for her to help ease them. Simon never told them about his allergy, hoping to keep it hidden for her sake. “What about you, Simon?” Chloe asked, darting her eyes around the room.

“Fine, really. I found this place from a friend who can’t sell it and let me use it for a while. It’s bad, but hey, it’s free, right?” No one really reacted.

“You can do more than this, Simon,” Venn said while looking at his cat who had now found a cozy place on Chole’s lap.

“I’m sorry, I thought we could get it in good shape.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Venn kept his face stern. “You need light, my friend.”

“Light?” Simon laughed. “What do you mean by light?”

“Simon, you don’t have to pick the cheapest place, you know?” Chloe joined in. “You can afford better things. You can treat yourself better.”

“And treat you better, right?”

“You know this is not what I mean.” The sympathy on her face felt cold to him.

Fredrich grunted next to Simon, to which he only reacted with a glance.

“We can move elsewhere if you don’t like it,” Simon said, his voice slightly raised — something he instantly regretted. They were his friends. Or at least, that’s how he wished it to be. The truth was, they probably just felt sorry for him. Venn had been sober for over a year, and Chloe had just said she was doing better now. They didn’t actually need his company anymore.

Simon turned again to see Fredrich’s reaction, but the man just sat there, quiet. Simon knew better than to prod him for opinions. So, he exhaled heavily, trying to drop a burden that was slowly creeping into his mind — but to no avail. Deep down, he knew Chloe and Venn were right. Regardless of how he felt, they had a point.

So, he raised his chin, trying to grab that thought like a drowning man — to let them tug him toward the light, as Venn said. His gaze however found rest on the two pictures rested on the wall. The ashen-haired girl was looking slightly down, almost at the camera, but not quite. Wasn’t she the one that had made him uneasy because of her gaze?

“Simon?” Chloe’s quiet voice snapped him back.

“You are right,” was all he said. “I can do better.” But they didn’t penetrate the shell he’d hidden behind — just words to tell them to leave him be.

Venn shared a look with Chloe, and both sighed, the man tugging his mouth to the side. His hand was restless, on the table. It wasn’t the first time the topic had been brought up, but this time, they didn’t push him further.

Simon looked again at the pictures. The more he stared, the less unease he felt — the more familiar they became. And yet, it felt like their eyes were no longer watching the camera. The detail on the man’s face appeared faded. The girl with the white hair had her eyes closed. They no longer felt intimidating to him.

“I think I should go,” Chloe said under her breath, but Simon kept his eyes on the pictures.

“Simon,” her voice cracked. The pause felt like eternity, and he turned toward her. A tear was making its way down her cheek. Venn’s hand was on her shoulder, and his face was darkened.

“Chloe, what happened?” Simon asked, surprised.

“Simon, my friend,” Venn said gently, “why don’t we go out together? Let’s have a walk, hear the crunch of snow under our feet. Let the cold wind lift our spirits.”

“I’m sorry, but I need to tidy this place up for the next time we come. You’ll see — it’ll be better!”

But Venn only shook his head, and Chloe looked at the floor, trying to hide her face.

“What?”

“I’ve said it too many times,” the bulky man said, rising from his chair. “I wonder if it even makes sense to say it again.”

Chloe followed, leaning into his hand.

“Wait, you’re leaving us?” Simon had a feeling this time was different. Yes, they’d had emotional days before. Chloe had been a mess a few years back — but this tear… this was… new.

“I don’t know what to do, Simon.”

“Well… let’s stay, talk!”

“We’ve been trying. But you keep turning around. You don’t listen to us. Chloe tried to talk about her day, but you just stared at the wall. Maybe another day, okay?”

“Yeah, another day might be good. I don’t want to take up your time. Let me walk you out at least.”

The three of them stood. Simon checked on Fredrich, but the man just sat there, watching both with a somber face. At least he stayed for company.

After a quiet moment Chloe and Venn stepped out into the cold outside. She kept close to Venn for warmth, his sturdy form shielding her from the wind.

“Simon, this place isn’t good for you,” Venn said. “We don’t need your help anymore. You’ve done so much. It’s time you care for yourself. Let us help you. I beg you — one more time.”

“You know you can reach out. I will always pick up the phone,” Chloe added with a smile, trying to hold back her tears.

She reached for him, but it was like touching a ghost. Simon lacked the strength to reach back

“I will call,” he said, waving at them. His friends hesitated, then stepped into the snowfall, vanishing into the night. Simon remained at the doorstep, watching them until the night erased them completely.

“Well, that leaves just the two of us again, Fredrich.”

Simon walked back, closing the door behind him. The old man in front sat still in his chair, back hunched, face drawn and darkened beneath his odd hat. Then, uncharacteristically, he rested it on the table. The angular features looked unnatural to Simon — but that’s how old Fredrich was. The oldest member of the group, who probably said the least.

“My old friend,” the man began, his low voice rumbling through the wooden floor, “the shadow is a nice place to be in. It’s cool, out of the spotlight. You can observe without others bothering you. It’s quiet. Serene. A place to think.” Fredrich was playing with the worn-out edges of his top, eyes not meeting Simon.

”If you aren’t careful, you might get too comfortable in it. A place where no one can see you. And when no one sees you — when you hide — people will forget you.”

“I… I don’t know what you mean,” Simon whispered. A numb weight pressed inward at the words he was hearing

“Who do you see?”

“Fredrick, I don’t understand.”

“The pictures on the wall,” his ragged cut through. “You found them in a bundle in the drawer. You said they were familiar. Who do you see in them?”

“I don’t know… I couldn’t really place them. Are they famous people?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” Fredrich chuckled as he stood.

He slowly reached for the photos, taking them in his hand and looking at them fondly. Simon walked next to him for another look. But the girl with the white hair wasn’t looking at the camera at all — all he saw was the back of her head. Was this a new picture Fredrich had found?

“Do you know them?” Simon asked.

“Now I think I recognize them, yes.” Fredrich swapped her picture for one that showed only an empty chair.

“Wait… are these new photos you’ve found, Fredrich?”

“No. They’re the same.”

“What do you mean?”

Simon blinked, feeling the shell tighten around him. It pressed on him like a coffin, pushing him deep into the earth. He wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. He took the photos in his hand, gently caressing their frames.

Fredrich put a hand on his shoulder, tapping it like an old friend. But Simon felt nothing. A tightness in his throat stole his breath. He reached out, hoping to feel something—but found only his own stiff shoulder and a corner where the light had died.