I knew it was coming. It was absolutely inevitable. I was going to be expelled from college. It was my second semester at TMCC, and I really screwed up. I remember thinking that my
college career was over. So, being very young and very naive I made one of the stupidest decisions of my life. I got my laptop and my cell phone, called a taxi and went down to the Bank of America.
When I got there I talked to Bonnie and together we emptied my $14,000 account. Then I went to the Greyhound Bus Depot. I bought a one way ticket to Los Angeles. I so badly wanted to go and visit
Disneyland. After I bought the ticket I had to wait about an hour for my bus to leave. I remember sitting in the bus depot and watching CNN. I got on the bus and sat next to a really nice Fillipina
named Flor. She offered me some Fillipino candy. I immediately accepted. It was delicious. It was an almond with candy coating. We arrived in Sacramento, where I needed to make a transfer. While in
Sacramento I wrote my family a postcard telling them I was running away. As soon as I sent it off I got a text on my cell phone from my mom's partner Mary. It said: "Brian, where are you? We are
all going out to Nana's to see Uncle Patrick." I responded: "Ha, ha you can't find me!" Inexplicable why I was so cruel. I caught my bus to L.A. and got the last seat on the bus. I was sitting
right next to an old middle eastern man who was snoring very loudly. Once we were on the road they started to play a movie, Disney's "Rattatouiee" about a rodent who lives in France and becomes a
master chef. When the bus stops in Stockton to pick up more passengers I get really anxious. I can't sleep and there's no way I can make it all the way to L.A. sitting next to this man, so very
willingly I make the decision to get off the bus. I walk about a block from the bus depot and find a Howard Johnson Hotel. I check in and go up to my room. I remember falling asleep the moment my
head hit the pillow. The next morning I wake up and turn on CNN. They found Brianna Denison's body overnight. Brianna Denison was a college Co-Ed who was murdered about a week before I ran away.
(About a year later I would become a suspect in the case, beacuse of the fact that I ditched town right after Brianna dissappeared.) After I heard about Brianna, I called the front desk and asked
if pets were allowed in the hotel. They told me it was a $10.00 extra charge for each pet. I called a taxi and went off for Pet Barn. The driver was an elderly African American man named Clarence.
He was from Monterrey. (My favorite aquarium is there.) We talk and Clarence tells me that Stockton is the "foreclosure capital of the United States." He also wants to know why the hell would I
move from Reno to Stockton. I tell him I don't really know for sure myself. I arrive at the pet store and almost immediately I see the two guinea pigs I want. They're white with different color
patches. One's male the other female. I buy them, a cage, some food, some timothy hay, and head back to the Howard Johnson in Clarence's cab. I watch CNN when I arrive, hoping to see if they're any
developments in the Brianna Denison case. After that I set up the cage and put the guinea pigs in it. They're so small they can fit in the palm of my hand. I get on the phone and order my favorite
pizza: cheese and black olive. I also get a two liter of 7-Up. It arrives and I eat it. After that I can't sleep. And when I can't sleep I make bad decisions. What a great idea, I think to put the
female guinea pig in the coffee pot and run a pot of coffee. And that's just what I do. I take the male guinea pig and chuck it with great force against the wall, snapping it's spinal cord, and
causing instant death. I then open my front door and chuck the dead corpses into the very small swimming pool. The next day I fill the bathtub with a load of timothy hay, and pellets, and towels,
and fill it with hot water. Ha, ha I think no one will use this room in quite a long time. I then leave the room and check out of the hotel. I get a bus ticket back to Reno, not looking forward to
what my parents are going to say when I get there.
© Copyright 2017 Patrick Pugh. All rights reserved.
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