In fall of 2000, surrounding areas were warned that a man from Bunker had killed two city workers who were on his property. The man escaped into the woods with a rifle. It was stressed that he was armed and dangerous and knew the woods of Dent County well.
I, at sixteen and living in the woods, made a joke of this. Bunker Man, as I called him, would probably hide out in our barn so he could watch us.
I made up a song about it, sang to the tune of Gloria Estefan’s “Rhythm is Gonna Get You.” But in the back of my mind, I knew there was a very real possibility someone could show up and kill us all.
CD burners were a big deal way back in 2000. Laura and I would drive out to a friend’s house until well after the sun set to burn plenty of Nelly and NSYNC and Britney (okay and Hikaru and Sailor Moon soundtracks for me) to any blank disc we could get our hands on.
This friend thought it would be extra funny to burn LFO’s Summer Girls to a disc 19 times because he knew this song would enrage me. I drove home pretty fast that night.
As I’m grinding my teeth to the umpteenth Chinese food makes me sick, Laura notices something askew with her dad’s super old truck that doesn’t work and has been sitting in the driveway since the dawn of creation.
I had a theory.
I slammed the car into reverse and drove backwards down the driveway without even looking.
After I destroyed a fence post, Laura used her dad’s gigantic yellow cell phone to call Luke.
She warned him of the danger.
And Luke had some information for us.
Laura’s brother, Travis, and his friend, Steven, were not strangers to my Bunker Man musings. They thought it would be funny to freak us out.
I slammed on my brakes, turned us around and drove back to the house.
I didn’t see Travis and Steven that night. They didn’t open the bedroom door when I pounded on it and demanded they open it so I could stab them.
The post was never repaired. To this day, it remains… broken and bruised.
Much like my ego!