HMS HUSHABYE

David Simmons of No.34, otherwise known as The HMS Hushabye, had almost completely turned his back on the outside world, a few practical obligations of his not withstanding.

For the only time he ventured out of his home now was to work his three night shifts a week in the nearby Amazon warehouse after which he would stop by his local supermarket before retreating to his cosy sanctuary, perfectly preserved since the year 1985 when he'd lost both his parents in a fatal car crash. He was only fifteen years old when the tragedy struck but similar to that grand old lady, Miss Haversham, David had never lived beyond that dark, lonely night of grief and heartbreak. Of course, his body had grown older, but his mind was still the same fifteen year old mind which had remained forever frozen in time, permanently fractured by trauma.

In a strange sort of way, he had come to see the house as a form of parent, sheltering him from the perilous complexities of the cruel world outside its cherry red painted door. Due to various legal entanglements, he'd had to wait until he was twenty one before he could return to the home as sole owner, but once he crossed the threshold he never looked back and stayed as devoted to the place as if it was his life partner.

Years turned into decades, and as David got older and more withdrawn, the house remained untouched. It was as if the HMS Hushabye (as he came to call it) was a red brick spaceship that carried him through time and space. Only when he stepped outside of it did the gravity of reality truly bear down on him and remind him how much the 'real' world had changed since they died. Adapting to survive on terms that suited his strange way of life, David became the human equivalent of a hermit crab where in his case the house was his exoskelton, his protective shell.

In many ways David's most impressive accomplishment in his adult life had been to convert the roof of his late parents' house into as close a replica of Admiral Boom's ship roof observatory platform in 'Mary Poppins' as was physically possible. David held fond memories of watching Mary Poppins with his mother in holiday seasons; she had told him many times that it was her favourite movie, happily singing along to 'Feed The Birds', 'Stay Awake' and 'Let's Go Fly A Kite'. She'd always liked the idea of having a nautically themed interior design to the house but hadn't quite got round to it while she was alive with the exception of an orange lifebuoy ring she'd had fitted just outside the front door entrance.

Now that same lifebuoy ring seemed a most appropriate visual metaphor for David's rescue from grief by way of the HMS Hushabye.

He was self aware enough to know that his plans for No.34 through time had almost soley been an act of preservation where only (with the exception of the ship roof) moderate expansion had been carried out. But late at night, as he reflected on this time capsule memorial, he realised it wasn't just his parents he mourned but the entire age at which his youth was cut short. It was as if the world that he'd grown up with had disappeared along with his parents, leaving him haunted by a fierce nostalgic sense of longing. For only in this vanished past did he feel he could connect with the memory of them and the happy, shared experiences he felt so attached to. Vivid memories often returned to him in waves, including watching Disney Hour on TV late in the afternoon while his mother cooked his supper as he tried to asborb all of the colorful animation highlights like a sponge. There was an atmosphere to memory that he just couldn't face being without.

An adult orphan afflicted with arrested development, at the age of 52 David found he had no friends and no one to love.

Just No.34.

It was a Tuesday night and David was meditating on a memory of going to sleep at night as a child where his mother would sing him 'Hushabye Mountain' and all felt right with the world. He only wished she were still here to sing it to him. Instead, he made do with the song being played on his father's old turntable as he further dimmed the lights of the living room and sank deeper into his melancholic recreation of past times once again.

A gentle breeze from Hushabye Mountain
Softly blows o'er Lullaby Bay
It fills the sails of boats that are waiting
Waiting to sail your worries away

Outside the house, David could hear the sound of a delivery truck reversing in his driveway, the incessant beeping of its motion alarm reminding him of a world he couldn't control.

David had ignored almost all technological developments since 1985 with the stubborn belief that as soon as he surrendered to the present and by implication the future, he would somehow get further away from his parents in his past. It was a strange psychology for others to understand but it made total sense to David, who believed that as long as he sailed in the HMS Hushabye he would navigate his way securely through his adult life to the moment of death where he would then be re-united with his parents once more.

Suddenly sensing he was being watched, David looked around the room. Surrounded by all of his childhood toys including his Star Wars figures, his miniature Lotus Espirit Bond car and E.T. cuddly toys, David was convinced he could sometimes hear them all talking to him. He really didn't mind too much though as he felt they were the only ones that truly understood him.

"I'll go to bed soon guys. Promise."

Later that night he climbed up onto the ship roof and watched the galaxy through his father's telescope.

He wondered if his parents were, in fact, stars watching over him aboard the HMS Hushabye and whether they approved of his absolute devotion to them.

Besides, at 52 years of age, he sensed there really was no turning back on this voyage now.

David would continue to sail on, through time, until he was finally reunited with them.