A Bear With A Sore Head

When Austyn asked him to go for a jog, Jesse relented. It was good to get some exercise, he thought. But after the jog came basketball, where he was slayed by Austyn’s slam dunks. After the basketball came archery. Jesse watched Austyn pull on the drawstring so hard that the arrow penetrated the target board. And now, kickboxing. Austyn called it sparring. Jesse called it a one-sided slugfest. ‘I’m going to end up as a patient at my own hospital,’ Stamford General’s chief physician grumbled. ‘Get up.’ His friend from hell said in a flat voice. ‘Man, what’s gotten into you today?’ Jesse refused to move. ‘Not only are you flogging yourself to death, you are also flogging your dear friend—yours truly—to a premature death.’ His idea of a leisurely Saturday was lounging on a beach chair and soaking up the sun, not participating in the decathlon. Austyn looked away. Then he swung a long leg over the rope and left the ring. Something was definitely up. Jesse did a kip-up and chased after his