The Greenhouse Effect

By Patricia Donkers

Belinda Smith and Wally Stroud seem destined to meet. Belinda is running from a life in the city that she perceives as unfulfilling. Wally desires the life he grew up with as a child. They meet by chance and discover a passion and love for each other that they desperately want to protect. When events from Belinda’s past intrude into their lives, they take a stand and do whatever it takes to maintain their lifestyle. The resulting acts of violence bring them even closer together while tearing them apart. At all costs they will protect what’s theirs.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patricia Donkers
• Release date: Jun 13, 2020
• ISBN: 9780993650529

Patricia Donkers

The collective creativity of sisters, Patricia Donkers and Nancy Kelly arises out of a love of reading and an open mind to all of life's mysteries. Nancy lives in Orillia, Ontario with her daughter Kelly and Patricia is married with three children living in Barrie, Ontario. Stephen J. Donkers is the son of Patricia Donkers and is a graduate of film and journalism.

Book preview

Prologue

Wally Stroud secured the leather strap across his broad chest and grabbed the leather hoops on either side of him, both of which encircled a large log. This was a hauling device he’d made up, instead of using a horse or tractor. It wasn’t that Wally didn’t own a tractor, it’s just he really didn’t mind the labour it took to drag it himself. That is providing the log wasn’t too heavy so then he had to use his tractor a fact he reluctantly attributed to aging. Sucking in air to expand his chest, and bracing himself for the exertion, he started the long walk. First there was the trek through the woods and then he had to drag it across the open field to his barn. An area to the side of this building had been designated his wood splitting and stacking lot. Finally emerging from the quiet dark of the trees, he looked up at the sky, raising a large leathery hand to his brow, as if to salute the new day. The sun was still low in the sky but already the heat enveloped the air like a wet blanket. It was going to be another scorcher today, Wally thought. He wiped his arm across his forehead and cleaned it of the sweat already forming on his face. The air was still, no breeze to offer relief from the heat. Wally didn’t mind though. He was just happy and grateful to be able to work outside. He worked in the cold, rain, heat and wind; never complaining, still preferable to the car plant he’d worked in years ago. He gazed with appreciation across his property and was glad he had had the good sense to buy a place away from the hustle of the streets and the noise that even in a small town, he found hard to bear. Not that Burlshill was that small anymore. The population now stood at 1830 people according to the last census poll. Wally worried about people’s homes encroaching on the peace and quiet of his farm, but he knew, as much as he’d like to, he didn’t have the power to stop progress.

He’d moved to Burlshill, Ontario years ago, when the population was only 548 and bought 50 acres with a house and barn about 10 kilometers out of town. Being only twenty eight at the time, he was still young enough to have the optimistic energy to try to obtain the life he wanted. Not that he had big plans but the life he had envisioned for himself looked just fine to him. He considered himself a simple man, of simple means and desired a simple life. His land came with about thirty acres of fine timber and the rest brush that he cleared himself for planting crops. Between selling logs to people for firewood and what crops he could grow and then sell at the local farmers market in Burlshill, he made out okay. His needs and desires were few. At least they were and then he’d met Belinda.

As he dragged the heavy log across his field he was glad he’d had the good sense to fell the tree early in the morning. He tried to cut down a couple of trees per month so that when his fall orders came in, he’d have the cords of wood ready for delivery to his customers. He noticed in the last few years that with the increase of propane heating, he didn’t have the same amount of orders that he used to. He had considered only cutting down one tree a month but that would only give him about five or six cords of wood per year, depending on the size of the tree. He finally decided to stick with his two trees per month. The work was manageable for him and he could stock pile what he didn’t sell. He’d also started bundling smaller piles and selling for backyard bonfires. He already had the vegetable stall at the farmers market, so it had worked out to be a profitable side line.

As he dragged the log across his field, Wally’s breathing became heavy as he felt the effects of the heat and humidity even this early in the morning. He stopped to wipe a trickle of sweat that rolled down his lined forehead and found himself searching the yard for Belinda. Of course, he didn’t expect to see her and these moments of searching had become fewer and fewer over the years. Still, for a long time, he had hoped that one day he’d come out of the forest and there she’d be, puttering around the farm, busy doing odd chores. Wally always knew where he’d find her though, sitting on the sofa, staring into the fire. Even in the summer warmth she had wanted a fire burning continuously in the fireplace. The heat it had generated had not seemed to bother her and she had sat quiet and still, staring into it hour upon hour. It had pained him to see her this way, day after day. He really should’ve gotten some help for her but then how could he? There would have been too many questions. No, he had decided that the best thing was to just wait, as he had kept on hoping that one day she’d come back to him. He had longed for their life before all the trouble began. Now all he really wanted was to forget.

Chapter 1

Wally hadn’t really given any thought to marriage and never to raising a family of his own but something happened to his plans or lack of them, when he met Belinda. That had been two years after his move to Burlshill. He had made his twice monthly Saturday night pilgrimage into the small town in north eastern Ontario to the only bar in town, ‘The Good Times Bar’. They featured a live band on Friday and Saturday nights and since they were usually local boys who played, Wally felt he should show his support by attending every other Saturday night. Of course, the ten or twelve beers that he rewarded himself had nothing to do with his weekly visit, at least that’s what he told himself. ‘The Good times Bar’ didn’t have to try very hard to attract customers as it was the only establishment which offered both booze and live entertainment. The entertainment was the only redeeming feature of the bar; certainly not the decor. It was furnished with miss matched wooden chairs and chipped laminate table tops. Two pool tables were placed in the back corner as well as several video games. The interior walls were decorated in stained pine wainscoting about four feet high from the dark tiled floor and cream coloured plaster to cover the dry wall up to the ceiling. The ceiling was sprayed plaster with ceiling fans placed every twelve feet. The whirring blades created an unpleasant mixture of smoke, brewery aroma and body odor, intermingling in the unventilated room. The only relief on a busy night was the front door opening and closing from customers, which released some of the stale air. The weekend was always busier with both singles and couples that came to socialize and let off some steam. Wally always sat by himself, enjoying watching the people and listening to the music as well as the cold beer.

Then one Saturday evening Belinda walked into the bar. What had caused Wally to turn around at that moment he couldn’t say, but hoisting his fourth bottle of beer to his lips, he glanced over his shoulder. There she stood just inside the door, a halo of light from the entrance framing her head. She looked out of place against the harsh atmosphere. Her eyes opened wide and then squinted as she tried to see into the back recesses of the dimly lit room. Delicately built, her head was draped in a long cape of honey brown hair. She started to walk toward the table where Wally sat and he turned back to his bottle of beer. Strolling by him, her hair swung in her stride and he caught a whiff of peaches. Wally just loved peaches. He turned his head to watch her walk over to an empty table, his eyes following the line of her slender young body. Yep, Wally really loved peaches. Perhaps it bought back childhood memories of eating a fresh peach, concentrating on the fuzzy skin as he rubbed it between his hands, then that first bite when the sweet succulent juice squirted down his chin, the wonderful scent filling his nostrils. He swore his mother’s peach pies were the best in the world, even to this day. Or perhaps, it was just his natural inclination. Either way, Wally found the aroma irresistible. Why, he found he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to ask her to dance. He even fantasized for a moment that her natural scent was peach. Wouldn’t that be a treasure!

The band on this night was a group called ‘The Oater Eaters’ who played country and western music which, while Wally enjoyed listening to, he didn’t like dancing to it. The dances required a practiced routine that he refused to learn. Wally didn’t really like dancing to any music but he could slow dance where the steps were not much more than a shuffling of his feet. When the band finally went on a break, the bar switched their entertainment to taped music. The very first song played was ‘When a Man Loves a Woman’ and Wally took this as a good sign. He quickly sucked back the last of his bottle of beer to summon his courage. Belinda had turned her head in his direction and he caught her eye. Wally stared back at her trying to present to her his most alluring gaze as he rose from his chair and swaggered over to the table. Without a word, he held out his hand to her. Belinda stared up at him, never averting her blue eyes from his, as he delicately placed her hand in his. Wally, at this point, could smell peaches stronger than ever and he could feel himself salivating. Swallowing, he drew her over to the dance floor and into his arms. Bending down to bury his face in her hair, he pressed her closer, feeling the fit of her slight body next to his. The words to the song filtered through adding to his feeling of contentment. He knew he had to have this woman. From that fateful night, Wally’s life changed forever.

Chapter 2

Belinda had grown up poor. Not the kind of poor where you had no permanent home but poor enough that second hand clothes were the norm and a special treat meant Jello with fruit set in it for dessert. The eldest of ten children –at least that was the count by the time she left home- she seemed only to remember her mother to be either pregnant or have a baby suckling at her breast. Many times she’d had to turn her face away from the picture of her mother’s worn out breast, sagging lower with every child, the stretch marks more predominant with every birth. The nipple had been used so much it stuck out permanently, looking always at the ready. From a very young age, Belinda became the mother’s helper she’d never asked to be. The next two children born after her were boys and so weren’t expected to help with what her parents referred to as ‘woman’s work’. While the other children were playing, she was babysitting and helping with the never-ending chores of laundry and cooking. She knew how to diaper a baby and wash a load of clothes even before she knew how to read. There was so much laundry in fact, that Belinda had no memory of ever seeing the bottom of the dirty laundry basket.

School was not the sanctuary it should have been. Shy by nature, making friends was hard for Belinda. When she was eight a new girl in class named Cary, invited her over to her house to play after school. Belinda had rushed through her chores at home, excited and happy at the prospect of finally finding a friend and ran the three blocks to Cary’s house. Even as she rushed, she was aware that the further from her own neighbourhood she got, the lawns, what little there was, were greener and the flowers seemed brighter. Standing outside the door, she paused to catch her breath and stared up at the newly painted wood. Stained glass windows ran down each side of the door, reminding Belinda of a church. Carefully rapping on the door with the large brass knocker, it was opened by a fit, blond haired woman, who introduced herself as Cary’s mother. Wearing a stark white t-shirt, tucked into tight fitting jeans, she looked like she could be Cary’s older sister. After warmly welcoming Belinda into the house, she called to Cary that her friend had arrived. The house was quiet, only the ticking of a large grandfather clock intruded as it sat in the large foyer. Cary emerged from down the thickly carpeted stairs and smiled at Belinda revealing perfect white teeth. Her honey blond hair was worn long and straight, with just the front wisps held back with butterfly clips. Belinda instinctively brought her hand up to smooth the jagged edges of her own hair that fell just below her ears. Her mother always cut her hair with her pair of what she called her ‘good scissors’ and plead as she did, wouldn’t allow Belinda to grow her hair long. Her mother’s argument was that it required less shampoo and would only become a tangled mess if left long. Besides, her mother told her, at her age, she didn’t need to be concerned with her looks. Belinda couldn’t wait for the day when she would be allowed to be concerned.

Cary led Belinda through to the kitchen for a snack of homemade chocolate cookies and milk. Belinda, wide eyed, gazed at the furnishings as they walked. They house wasn’t just tidy it was downright clean. The sofa and two armchairs in the living room were pure white, the starkness broken up by the colourful throws on the sofa. The brass legs of the coffee table sat on a Persian rug, (although Belinda didn’t know that’s what it was) the glass top revealing the multi-pattern of the rug through it. In the dining room sat a large wood table, polished to a shine so pure that Belinda was sure she could see her face in it. The china cabinet held an assortment of dishes and all to Belinda’s amazement looked to match each other.

The kitchen was large and airy and there weren’t any dirty dishes cluttering the counter and sink. All the appliances looked new and gleaming. They sat at the kitchen island on high stools where a glass plate piled with the fresh baked cookies awaited them. The cookies were still warm, just out of the oven and their rich aroma filled the room. Belinda accepted her first of three cookies and the chocolate chips melted in her mouth, the sweetness mingling with the subtle flavour of the dough. Cold milk served in finely etched goblets finished off the snack and the girls went up to Cary’s bedroom to play.

Cary had her own bedroom and so there was a lot of room for them to play and there were a lot of toys to play with. Belinda shyly sat on the end of her bed, afraid to touch anything. The bed cover was thick and soft. Cary explained to her that it was a duvet. Belinda just smiled as if she knew what a duvet was, remembering the thin worn chenille blanket that covered her own bed. After looking over the many toys, they finally settled on the Barbie dolls. Belinda couldn’t believe how