Kenneth Chapter
The Three-Week Adventure: Book 2
S. M. LAMBERT
Copyright © 2019 S. M. Lambert
All rights reserved
First Edition
NEWMAN SPRINGS PUBLISHING
320 Broad Street
Red Bank, NJ 07701
First originally published by Newman Springs Publishing 2019
This book is not meant to defame nor accuse anyone of any wrong doing. Any resemblance to names, to actual persons living or dead or actual events is purely coincidental.
ISBN 978-1-64531-114-0 (Paperback)
ISBN 978-1-64531-115-7 (Digital)
Printed in the United States of America
Table of Contents
To my heavenly Father, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, who through his son, Jesus Christ, inspired me by providing me with the “time” in which I needed to write…
In memory of Charles E. Gill Sr., a wonderful dad
Chapter 1
Part 1
The workout tonight seemed to have lasted an eternity, yet the clock on the wall revealed that it had only been a little under two hours.
Nine years, he thought to himself. At the persistence of his grandmother, he had begun his training nine years ago at the age of seven.
Charles Gill Jr., a teenager at the age of sixteen, had become proficient in the Tai Mantis style of kung fu (a derivative of the original praying mantis kung fu system, which was created in China by the rebel Shaolin monks). Under the instruction of Jin Fong, the renowned master of the Tai Mantis Kung Fu Association and the grand master of the Fu Jow Pai [Tiger Claw] Kung Fu Federation, Charles Gill had achieved the third highest position in his class.
“One, two, three, four.” The sound of Master Fong’s voice echoed throughout the room as he commanded his class into performing a series of prearranged movements. Using the cuff of his Sam (kung fu shirt) to wipe the perspiration from his brow, he nodded to his class to show that he was satisfied with their performance.
“All of you did very well today,” said Master Fong. “We will end the lesson now and start on the new techniques on Thursday night.”
With his hands, Master Fong motioned for the class to assemble into formation. The students bowed toward Master Fong to show respect and to signal the end of the lesson.
The students disbursed, emptying from the school into the parking lot.
“Hey Doug!” yelled Charles, “wait up!” He continued as he ran to the car that his friend was entering.
Born and raised in Palo Alto, California, and the youngest of seven children, Douglas Tabuco was one of the two best friends Charles had maintained since early childhood. He was sixteen years old, medium height, robust, with an athletic build and smooth Asian features that were attributed to Filipino heritage. Doug, Charles, and Dale Eng (who was of Chinese-Filipino descent) had met at Master Fong’s school of kung fu seven years prior and had become sworn barkadas (a Filipino term meaning “closer than brothers, though not from the same mother’s womb”).
Doug reached over and unlocked the passenger side door so that Charles could climb into the car.
“I thought you were going to catch a ride with Dale?” Doug asked as he watched his friend fasten his seat belt.
“When I saw you walk out the door, I knew that you had forgotten about me,” responded Charles. “And you also forgot that your mom wanted me to come over tonight because she wanted me to meet your cousin Marleen from the Philippines.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right,” said Doug. “Moms trying to play matchmaker. Well I’m glad Sifu [kung fu teacher] ended class early because everyone has probably started eating by now.”
“Since we are already late, does it matter what time we get there?” asked Charles.
“I don’t think so. Why?” asked Doug.
“Because then you won’t mind if we make a little stop,” said Charles.
“That depends on where it is,” responded Doug.
“Cassandra Jones’s house.”
“In East Palo Alto?” Doug asked, surprised on where Charles wanted them to go.
Part 2
Cassandra Jones, a beautiful African American woman in her early thirties, lived in East Palo Alto, California. She had befriended Doug, Dale, and Charles after meeting them at a martial arts demonstration three months earlier and had persuaded them to instruct her twice per week in her home.
Parking across the street from Cassandra’s small two-bedroom home, Doug and Charles walked up the pathway and knocked on the front door. The door opened, and Cassandra stood in tightly fitting jeans, which accentuated the curves of her lower body. She also wore a halter top, which exposed the upper portion of her voluptuous breast.
Charles and Doug were mesmerized, their eyes scanning over every beautiful curve in Cassandra’s body, then both stopping simultaneously on her breast. Aware of their not-so-subtle
