Tonight is John’s favorite night. Tonight is poker night, the night when John and a couple of his work buddies gather together and talk of old tales, get drunk, and eat more than their bodies can handle. Oh yeah, and play some cards.

John and his friends are lumberjacks working off the Cascade Range in Washington, they go out every day regardless of weather, much like the postman, and cut and move trees for their company, Hatfield Lumber.

John, his friends calling him Big John, stands six foot eight and weighs in at a healthy two hundred and sixty pounds. His hands are large, like that of any hard working man and his beard is full, “Helps keep the ice off my face in the winter”, he likes to say.

John lives in a nice little house that he has built over the last several years. He has found that the work to the house helps him forget the loneliness he feels when he comes home. The lonesomeness and emptiness that he feels every time he starts thinking about his wife, Marie. Well, that is, his late wife. Marie died seven years ago of cancer, a rare bone marrow cancer that caused great pain to her as it ate her from the inside out. John, although saddened greatly, was happy that it was over quickly. From the time she had found that she had it, it was only six weeks later when she died.

Knock knock…

The knocking at the door was definitely Gary. Gary was very simple and brief in all that he did. The two quick short knocks on the door were always a sign it was Gary.

John walked over to the door and opened it revealing a short man, no more than 5 foot four wearing a plaid jacket and a set of thick steel toed boots.

“Hey BJ.” He said to John, walking directly to the table and smiling.

“Don’t call me that Gary. You know I don’t like being called by those initials,” his voice was deep with compassion and strong with confidence as he spoke.

As John started to close the door, he felt a resistance coming from the other side of the door. His immediate reaction was to push a little harder, but the resistance grew.

“Hey, come on, let us in,” squeaked a voice that could only be Jack.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t see ya.” John backed away from the door allowing Jack and a stranger into the house.