Welcome, dear reader!

Kay Parker is back with another one! And you know what to expect from him, don’t you? Hahaha! This story has his trademark all over it. So, let’s get straight into it!

I am not a player.

Regardless what you think, I am not to blame.

I am what happens when you take the best of someone and turn it inside out, you know, kinda like that happy face/sad face toy in TikTok videos. Except, the toy is stuck in perpetual angry face.

You’re about to read a tale that, in retrospect, could’ve been a hell of a lot worse. Please understand, my definition of normal is in no way related to yours or the rest of the world’s. If you think that’s a problem, I have a beautiful, nasty asscrack you can kiss.

If you don’t think it’s a problem, and you actually want to know why my normal ain’t so normal, then let’s start somewhere around…

THIRTY-TWO YEARS AGO

I was about three days from being born, so this is a retelling based on a combo of both my parents’ accounts.

My dad, Earl William Claybell, mayor of Rick City, chief elder in the Highway to Heaven church, and a well-respected man all around, came home to his wife, Maybelline Claybell, former supermodel and singer now turned star actress. My mum’s body in her heyday was an interesting combo, kinda like mine is now. She didn’t have a lot of anything, but she had the exact amount needed to pull any and every kind of man. Her face was just right. Her boobs were big enough to fit your face in, but small enough not to show in a dress. Her ass was the perfect size for any hand and was soft, but it only stood out once you got past her killer legs. And when she smiled, no one who saw her was allowed to have a bad day. It’s like God took the most ideal dimensions of the perfect woman and made her.

To add to all that, her five foot ten inch self managed to get a heck of a man with the exact same height. Lucky bitch.

The earliest my dad ever got home was 8pm, and he’d always come with some kind of peace offering to make up for having to work so late. But, on this particular day, he’d just gotten a huge win in court against some contractor who had sued the city. He was so excited that he’d given the whole office the rest of the day off, and he decided he’d go home and surprise his wife.

He’d picked out her favourite Lindt chocolate and some gorgeous flowers on his way and once he got there, he did this walk where you’re buzzing on the inside but you want to act cool.

That may have been why he was able to hear the conversation from outside.

When he first stopped to eavesdrop, it wasn’t even on some suspect-type stuff; he wanted ammo to troll her with cos he thought it was girl talk. But then her phone was on speaker, and he heard the voice that wasn’t Maybelline’s say, “Then you’ll have to find another way. Cos how do you tell your husband you want a DNA test without any questions?”

Now he wanted the firsthand tea so that when she told him later, he’d already know but he could still act surprised.

The surprise came alright, when Maybelline responded to her friend, “Otis won’t leave me alone too. He keeps saying its his baby, but I know its Earl’s. God! I can’t believe it took me so long to see how good of a man Earl is. I wasn’t sure how much I loved him when we first got married, and I have wanted to kill him so many times, but boy I love that man. You know what, you’re right. I won’t tell him anything.”

Whatever emotions are filling you up now, they pale in comparison to the shock that soaked ol’ Willie Earl. Here he was outside his house at lunchtime, and he’d just heard his wife confess to an affair with his uncle Otis of all people.

The same Otis who emceed his wedding.

He was a half-second away from storming inside when a movement caught his eye: someone was headed towards the window where he was. He quickly jumped and hid behind the sidewall of the house, away from view. It was a kindness of God that he’d parked across the street and his car was the same as that neighbor’s, so no one could tell he was there.

Before he could peek back to see if the coast was clear, he heard arguing, but it wasn’t with the person on the phone; it was with a person physically in the room.

Earl remembered the cameras in his house and opened up the app on his phone. There stood Otis in blue boxers having strong words with Maybelline.

My dad would’ve intervened if his level of shock hadn’t frozen him, but then Otis backhanded my mum across the face, then forehanded her with the same hand and proceeded to grab and rock her. Mamma may have been a whore, but she was no bitch. Even heavily pregnant, she pushed him away and smashed a wine glass on his cheek.

She turned around to try to run away, but I guess when a man like Otis saw red, there was no getting away from him. He tackled her from behind and she fell right on me. The man wasn’t satisfied with that, so he started kicking me as hard as he could, proclaiming “IF I CAN’T HAVE THIS CHILD, NO ONE CAN!”

This is the only part of the story where neither of them agrees cos they both seem to have blacked out as the sequence unfolded. But, I saw the security footage once I got older.

Willie Earl barged in with a gun and unalived Otis with the quickness. As my mum looked up in complete fear and trembling, dad spat on what was left of Otis’ skull, shot her a look of the utmost contempt, and stomped right out.

He later held a funeral for the man and had mum speak glowingly of her dead lover, and he paid for the whole thing. Forgiveness wasn’t on his mind; he still had a public face to maintain as the mayor of Rick City.

She was yet to know this, but that day, she brought out a side of him that had never existed until that moment; an unforgiving, cold, dark side. He stayed, but he never saw her as a person ever again. He stayed because he was William Earl Claybell, a man’s man who would not be subjected to the pity of other men, and a man’s man whose reputation could never be touched. In the eyes of the world, he was a loving husband, a committed father, and an overall responsible citizen. But in his private life, he devolved into an extremely possessive narcissist.

Mum couldn’t move two inches without his knowledge and approval, and she damn sure couldn’t bring any friends over, male or female. Anyone or anything that could be seen a corrupting influence was quickly done away with, and any resistance was met with pure violence.

Growing up, it always confused me that none of her doctors questioned the absurd number of times she ended up in their care with something broken or bruised. Then again, her husband was adept at looking clean even when he smelled like year-old compost.

In time, dad retired, left the church, opened three strip clubs and became a man who was in the habit of stealing that which belonged to him. You know, raping his wife on a regular, taking money from the clubs and blowing it on hoes, that type of stuff. He even drugged said hoes to sleep so he could bang them, even though their sole purpose was to give him their kitties anyway.

His depravity only worsened until I walked in on mum screaming under him as he tried to sleep with her without her enjoyment yet again. I did society a long overdue favor and blew him out of this world, Otis style.

As much as I resented him for his inhumane treatment of my mother, I soon came to understand the possessiveness which gripped him from the day he learned of her infidelity. See, people think that wanting all of someone is a simple matter. The thing of it is that “all” means very different things to various different people, one of whom is Akwesi Macquaye.

Regardless what you see in this story, know this: I loved the hell out of that man and there was no cost that was too high for the love we shared. But he needed to learn one thing and one thing only: If you’re dealing with Clementine Claybell, there is nothing that is yours alone.

Absolutely. Nothing.

Well well well! Clementine’s family certainly has some serious levels of insanity in there. Guess we go on to see what the girl herself is all about…