A place to do nothing

An original literary non-fiction-style account of trying a display hammock during a family visit to a camping showroom.

The hammock occupied the brightest corner of the showroom. A photograph above it showed a person reading beside a lake, with no bags, insects or relatives in sight. My husband stopped in front of it and said that this was exactly what our holidays needed. Our daughter asked whether it came with the lake.

It was suspended on its own display stand, and an assistant invited us to try it one at a time. My husband sat down cautiously, lowered himself and disappeared behind the curved fabric. His shoes remained visible at one end. After a long silence, he announced that he had never been more comfortable. The assistant asked whether he wanted the brochure. He said he would look at it later.

Our daughter tried it next. She stayed for less than a minute before sitting up and asking where she was meant to put her drink. I suggested the ground. She looked at the showroom floor, then at the photograph, as if an important part of the advertising had been omitted.

I was interested in the size of the stand when packed away. The assistant showed me a label while my husband discussed which book he would take. We were apparently considering the same purchase, but one conversation concerned a car boot and the other an uninterrupted afternoon.

Before we left, our daughter found a folding chair with a pocket in the arm. She sat in it, placed her water bottle in the pocket and looked satisfied. My husband returned to the hammock for another minute. I copied the stand’s dimensions onto the back of the brochure. We bought neither item that day. In the car, he said that we should think about how much use we would get from the hammock. Our daughter said that he had already used it twice. He replied that testing was important, and closed his eyes while I found the parking ticket.

What do you learn from the whole passage about the family’s different responses to the hammock?