Being a Barrow - A Sequel to Barrow's Boy

The Water of the Womb

     It started to rain as Theodore walked back to St. Raph's that night. All he could do was wrap his coat tighter around himself to try and block out the chill from the dampness and the wind, doing his best to ignore every drop that hit his coat, adding to its discomfort and weight. Of course, he had the boxes from Hartford's to protect as well, though it was an easy decision to forgo a stop at the flat and just get back to residence. Hopefully, he could keep them in a communal fridge there.

      If he could just get back to Hawthorne House, he could go to his room, change into his pyjamas, and lay on his bed with the hope that Ashton would be kind enough not to bother him. Ashton seemed to have a good understanding of when to be quiet. It was something Theodore had quickly come to greatly appreciate.

     He felt drenched as he made it back, with water dripping onto the floor as he entered the building.

     So much for his nice suit.

    As he walked through the hall, Theodore forced himself to stop for a moment to check the mailbox that he and Ashton shared. Finding it blessedly empty, he closed the box and began his trek up the three flights of stairs to his room. 

    Stairs. You'd think that he'd be more than used to them after a lifetime at the Abbey, yet they seemed to go on forever tonight. As he reached the third floor, opening the door to enter their hallway, he was met with familiar voices coming from down the hall.

      "Where'd you say this is from?"

      "India. I spent two years there."

     There was another response, though it was muffled and Theodore couldn't make it out. He had been following their voices, but it did not take much thought. On each floor was one of the student lounges - as they were referred to by the resident staff. These lounges had comfortable seating for the students, as well as a table with chairs and a communal kitchen. It was there that Theodore found Ashton, Dansworth, and Monty. Between them was a dish that was rather reminiscent of pancakes, though they were thinner than what Theodore was used to.

    "Barrow, no!" Monty exclaimed upon seeing him. "You poor sod! You got caught in that rain?"

     Theodore scowled in response. Ashton shooed Monty away from the table, bringing a plate over and dishing one of the almost-pancakes onto it.

     "You look like you need food," Ashton offered, holding out the plate to Theodore. "Masala dosa. It's an Indian dish."

     "I just had a whole meal-" Theodore started. Dansworth shushed him.

     "Eat one! Ashton put his heart and soul into this food-"

     "Not really," Ashton said, shaking his head. "I just-"

     "Don't hurt his feelings, Barrow!"

     "He's not hurting my feelings," Ashton tried to jump into the conversation again. "I get it."

     Theodore swallowed, eyes going down to the ground.

     Realistically, he was soaked to the bone and desperate to change out of these clothes, miserable from how the night had gone, and-

     "Are you alright, Barrow?" Ashton's voice cut through the cloud. Theodore, without truly thinking, shook his head.

     "I think I need to call it a night." Monty frowned at him as he spoke. Theodore tried to ignore it. "I'll see you all tomorrow."

    He left without saying a word. A voice nagged in his head, rather reminiscent of Mrs. Hughes but also Anna at once, of how rude that was. To just leave without a proper goodbye. But here he was with one of those terrible Barrow traits. Selfishness ran through his veins as he walked to 310 and let himself into the room. He barely processed it as he removed his clothes, dried off his hair with a towel, and put on his pyjamas.