Super Bacteria

If you would ask anyone about Pedro you would get the same answer, something along the lines of: “Oh, yeah! That guy.” He always had a way of rubbing of that “that" vibe. One classmate even jokingly wrote in his high school yearbook “Definitely that guy!”. 

“That" of course would disregard the petabytes of information scattered all across the cybersphere about him. From his email at the university (prof_busca111@edinsonu.edu), his personal email (pedro3.busca@gmail.com) to even the email he made in junior high (p.cloud44@aol.com) just so he could access some furry hentai in a sketchy website. There was also his two credit cards, one for big purchases and another for subscription services. His 401K. His twitter account (@aga_barros). His spotify could tell you about his secret predilection for the boy band Five. And you could learn about his fetish for fair skinned, glass wearing brunettes with their hair tied from his tinder profile, that’s been gathering dust since the wedding (his wife, by the way, was neither).

That day he had just finished lecturing at the university and hopped in his car to go back home, around 4pm. It was a quick drive through the turnpike and he listened to the radio on the way back. Midway through an avenue he noticed a car behind him. A 1997 Honda Civic. “Busted up piece of junk, if you ask me!” Thought Pedro.

Only, there was something quite unnatural about the way that car was driven. He was meticulously staying the lenght of one block apart from him, matching his speed, always using the turn light, just like him. To top it all of, the driver could mimic the same habits of Pedro behind the wheel, both cars moved with the same sway. For him, it was like watching him controlling another car with some minor delay.

Pedro decided to lift up the gas, just to see what the other car would do. They both started slowing down. Now they were almost grinding to a halt. It wouldn’t be soon before they would start disturbing the other cars. 

But then his phone rang, and Pedro got back to driving. Now, he wasn’t one to look at the phone while driving, but he needed a buffer from the tension of the civic. It wasn’t a call, it was a following request from twitter. @polluX_1997? No one he knew. He opened up his profile page just to be sure. 1527 follows, 0 follows, 0 tweets. Yep, it was a bot for sure. Probably trying to pass as a legitimate user to trick the website’s firewall and start a phishing scam.“Man, what will they think of next?” Pedro thought. He declined the request, just to be sure. Scammers were always one step ahead of people.

Turning his attention back to the road, the civic was no longer there. It took him another 20 minutes to arrive home, it was almost 5pm. He could see through the window the lights in the dining room were on. Chelsea is probably cooking right now, poured herself a cup of merlot. They lived in a nice neighborhood, so there was no need to lock the doors. He walked right in to an “excuse me” from his wife. Pedro paid no mind to it, but she seemed confuse. He looked back at her, not getting it, and then past her. And there he was.

He wasn’t exactly like him, his nose was way more pointy and his ears were smaller. But, overall, it was him. The same arched back, the same receding hairline, the finger fidgeting, he checked all the boxes. That man and his wife tried to explain to Pedro that they think he was mistaken, that they’ve been married for years now. 

Pedro tried to reason, to say that they have been married, but she wouldn’t believe. Pedro tried to show some proof, he looked around for some photo, but no one hanged those around anymore. He though about his photo app, he reached for his phone, but his hands were much too shaky for him to unlock it.

No need. His wife got her cell and handed it to him. And there he was with that man: sharing a piece of cake at their wedding, having dinner in the candlelight, strolling through the beach in Cabo. 

The unknown man stood up and told him the charade was over, that he would have to leave or he would call the police. Pedro was flabbergasted, he didn’t know what to do next. He decided to avoid a scene and left.

Outside, Pedro got his mind straight and decided to double check the photo app. Since he and his wife shared the same household account they had access to the same photos. And the photos really featured that other man, coated up with his wife in a shack in Bariloche, and in every other photo. He thought it was all part of a joke, or a really bad dream.

He tried calling 911, but since his wife was with a man she though was her husband, there was no emergency. Just to be sure, he opened the photos app again, but he was locked out of his account. He tried logging the password again, and again, and again, until he ran out of tries. In his email, the same thing, both his personal and his work one. Amazon, Twitter, Netflix, he was locked out of everything. He looked around, the civic was nowhere to be found.

He got back in his car and drove to the nearest hotel, he figured he could sleep it off and tomorrow it would be easier to handle. He asked for the cheapest room available, and the concierge asked for a credit card. As she swiped it, something appeared on her screen. She tried to keep her cool, but Pedro knew something was off, something has been off his whole day. He noticed a security guard sneaking up to him, so he picked up the pace and left. 

Unable to use his cards, he went to the atm to try and get some cash for a fast food. But the machine would accept his fingerprint. “Great! Now not even a greasy meal I can afford.” Pedro thought. He decided to sleep, hungry, at the parking lot from the university. At least the day was over.

When the next morning arrived, Pedro was feeling like a bag of rocks. He didn’t sleep well at all. But hey, it’s a new day. As he was leaving his car, with yesterday’s clothes all ragged up, the other Pedro was just arriving to work.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“This is my work!”

But Pedro wouldn’t believe it, he decided to confront him and ask him what was the research they were working on. The other Pedro explained that it was about the super bacteria: that as bacteria were gaining immunity from our daily antibiotics, they were getting stronger, until a bacteria so strong arrives that we will have no response to it. 

That moment, he realized he was bested. He had lost everything. They could steal anything from him. Anything. 

So Pedro decides to shrug off that encounter with the random stranger as he walked away defeated and have a pretty normal day at work. His research on the super bacteria is making strides, and is looking promising. It’s not long before it starts drawing the attention of the university’s board and the whole scientific community. Pedro is recommended to a tenure. this puts him and his wife under a lot of stress for quite some time. But eventually he gets it. Life is good.

Not long after, Pedro and Chelsea decide to have a baby. They check in with the doctors and start trying. Six months later, the stick eventually turns blue. They are over the moon with happiness. The pregnancy runs smoothly for the first three months, until Chelsea starts feeling strange. The next morning, on her OBGYN appointment, the doctor finds no heartbeat.

Pedro tries to comfort her, but it doesn’t help. It seems like he is the last person she wants to see. This builds a wall between the two. Pedro tries to reach out to no avail, he eventually gives up and buries himself with work.

A couple of months pass by, and he notices his wife getting a little gitty, he feels left out. One day he confronts her to which she admits she’s been seeing someone. Pedro gets mad, really mad. Chelsea tries to reason with him, and he wants to forgive her, but they both know it is never that simple.

They decide to go to therapy. It’s a long and hard process, but, little by little, they grow closer again to each other. They take a trip to Hong Kong and it is lovely. Pedro tries to bring up the subject of trying to have a baby again, but it’s still too soon.

On his 30 years high school reunion he is the life of the party. People gather close to him and reminisce about the good times and all kinds of trouble he use to get into. Dave arrives up late and doesn’t seem to remember who is the guy everybody is talking to. He squints his eyes, gets closer, until Pedro looks back at him and immediately recognizes Dave. He nods to Dave and call him closer and Dave finally remembers him. He thinks: “Oh, yeah! Definitely that guy!"