The Seal Life

Most people found the room’s soft lighting and quiet atmosphere cozy and relaxing. But Chester Seal was not most people. His family drifted in and out of his space, occasionally saying hello, but mostly, well, let’s be honest, they ignored him. Beyond the bedroom window were trees and a vegetable garden with tiny red tomatoes and the occasional bird. The bird never stayed long, and the tomatoes eventually detached from the withered vines. At night, his family would sometimes sit around a fire, talking and laughing. Chester stuck to his place, literally (he was a stuffed animal after all, with no legs) and figuratively. Change meant leaving his comfort zone with its soft lighting and central air, so he accepted his fate, acting stoically unaffected. He sat up straighter and waited his turn; his please and thank you went unnoticed, but he continued to use his manners. On good days, when he was lucky, his people transported him to the living area. They engaged in a game of bright-colored cards; their playful outrage collapsing into peals of high-pitched laughter. Chester observed their camaraderie, silent and excluded. His congenial attitude and attempts at telepathy were unsuccessful. Intended for amusement, his role was to bring comfort and spread joy, but nobody appreciated him.

When everyone left for work and school, Chester binge-watched rom-coms, and he soon became an expert on relationships. His natural charm and social-intelligence would lead him to his person, “the one”. His soulmate was the key to manifesting his perfect life. They would complete him.

In order to follow all the standard recommendations, he gathered with his companions who sat patiently in a heap on the bed or neatly arranged on their own ledges. He asked his associates to fix him up with someone special, but their inability to move or speak made them unhelpful. Despite the conversation lacking direction, they sat without interruption. He could at least be himself when he was with them. Their nonjudgmental attitude about him, about all subjects, brightened his day. Though their inability to talk was sometimes a blessing, Chester aspired for something more.

Trying something new, he found activities he enjoyed. Pickleball was his favorite even though he couldn’t actually hold his carbon fiber paddle. His inability to drive also limited his time on the sun-drenched court. When he managed to visit the park, he enjoyed his time. The most wonderful people spent time in the outdoor space. A bird-watching, old lady always said hello. He felt safe in her presence. Simply holding space for one another, they enjoyed sitting side by side. At the same recreation area, an exuberant puppy jumped and barked at him. Chester appreciated the enthusiasm, but she mostly talked about herself and played a little too roughly. In fact, more than once Chester was the recipient of her incontinence issues. She always rolled over and apologized, but then she took his snack and ran circles around him, making him dizzy and ill.

Going to the gym, Chester tried to look the part. But he didn’t look like anyone else. He was too self-conscious about his form, and his athleisure wear bunched in the wrong places. Chester found that neither the treadmill nor the weight machines were the right size for him. He didn’t really know how to use them anyway. The locker room was awkward. His discomfort with showering was difficult to explain. And one time he got stuck in the towel hamper. Despite the drawbacks, the people at the fitness center were friendly and kind. They recommended several new television series to binge, and just scooting across the lobby made him feel energized and stronger. He was ready for his next endeavor.

Despite his late night out, he was ready to tackle his education. The students would love him. His alarm blared extra early, but he was already awake. Humming to himself, he took special care with his personal grooming routine, including an attempt at a new hairstyle he had seen online. School was seven hours long, and the teacher took his phone. Missing his shelf at home, he sat on the large chair made for a person with legs. Try as he might, he couldn’t see over the desk. For the first half of the class, his group didn’t even recognize that he existed. Old pizza and greasy fries permeated the cafeteria, with its hard benches, long lines, and loud, messy children. He finally got the bathroom pass, which hung awkwardly around his body. In the bathroom, people occupied the stalls which smelled of an artificial candy-like odor that clung to his fur. Even worse, the stench of unflushed toilets and mildew-encrusted pipes made him miss the bar.

Back in the classroom, Chester returned to his assigned seat. Despite his new college-ruled notebook and mechanical pencil, he found note-taking complicated since he couldn’t write. Neat bullet points on each PowerPoint slide contained interesting information and insights. While explaining each idea, the teacher told an occasional joke. Chester was the only one who laughed. Recess, the much-anticipated time of day, finally arrived. Exhilarated, he joined the chattering, laughing horde of children. Together with Chester secured in someone’s hand, they scurried outside. Proud to be the star member of a somewhat violent tug-of-war team, he proudly brandished his war wounds: five small stitches. He also found some students with similar interests, and he joined a club. All things considered, maybe school wasn’t all bad.

Tired of watching the world go by without him, and as a last resort, Chester also tried online dating. The apps presented him with challenges. Not quite sure what to say about himself, he struggled to create his profile. His photos never looked the way he intended. Feeling ruggedly handsome in the bathroom mirror, he didn’t understand why his photos never did him justice. He took adventurous photos, but skydiving looked like falling off the table, and rock-climbing looked like sitting on the backyard fence. Next, he tried photos with a cute animal, hoping that would increase his appeal. Back at the park, he found his friend, but she still hadn’t learned the appropriate time to relieve herself, so that didn’t work out for him. For his profile image, he tried using stock photos, eventually switching to a younger photo of himself, but nobody really liked that. They called him a catfish, which made little sense because he was obviously a seal.

Online he bragged about sports he didn’t play, places he had never been, and books he hadn’t read. Chester matched with people who had nothing in common with him. On one date, he attended the movies, but he couldn’t see the screen and got stuck between the seats. The darkened, silent theater was a poor place to get to know someone.

The bar scene wasn’t for him either. Raising his flipper and clearing his throat, the bartender ignored him, and patrons jostled him. Chester skidded across the sticky counter, which smelled of beer. Worse than the one at school, he could not repeat the graffiti inscribed on the bathroom wall. He cradled a beer, but he couldn’t turn it upright again.

After much trial and error, he resolved at last, to be himself. His image remained unaltered. He confessed to inactive pursuits and routines which included too much Bridgerton and too many pints of ice cream. By finally showing people his authentic self, he widened his network. He was unique. He started doing more, seeing more, and being more.

At the end of this very busy week, Chester sat on his shelf and reminisced. Rather than focusing on perfection and finding the one, he made many new friends. Although they didn’t always express it, his family cared about him. His social circle listened and never interrupted. Companions at the park made him feel safe and were always excited to see him. At the gym, his workout buddies supported his goals. At school, he shared common interests with his new Dungeons and Dragons adventurers. Online dating didn’t bring him his great love, but it brought fun and definitely some interesting experiences. Most importantly, his new companions valued his true self. Nobody expected perfect photos, and he didn’t have to pretend to enjoy popular pursuits. Chester could just be himself.