The Whiteness of Bones Read Online Free

extremely interested in her own mother, the two girls had formed The Mothers Club. They held secret meetings at the Big House. These meetings would have seemed dangerously morbid to the casual observer, especially as Lily’s mother had died mysteriously a few years before. The girls locked themselves in the dead woman’s perfumed, humid rooms for days and talked to each other in a big seventeenth-century gilt mirror propped against a lacquer screen looted from the Forbidden City. They innocently adorned themselves in the most priceless Chinese bridal robes, once belonging to the Dowager Empress, Tsu Hsi; wrapped Fortuny silks and brocades around their thin necks and waists; flung strands of Burmese cabochon rubies over their soft shoulders; and pretended to smoke the black, oily pellets of opium they found in the toe of one of Lily’s mother’s handmade satin shoes.
    They held these meetings regularly, and all in all, it was probably a very good thing for both girls. Once, Lily’s father, Dr. Shields, had come into the room looking for a Japanese sword and found the girls side by side on the bed in crepe negligées and big black pearls. He politely apologized fordisturbing them and excused himself. He, too, was under the spell.
    Mamie went into the kitchen through the back screen door. Mitsuya was icing the cake and looked up when Mamie idly opened the door of the refrigerator. Mamie seemed sad, and Mitsuya looked at her again, squinting.
    “You going to da pahty bumbye? For Lyle?”
    Mamie nodded. She could hear McCully and Mary arguing on the ocean veranda. McCully’s voice was calm and low, but her mother sounded very angry. Mamie could only remember their having argued once before. It was the summer when Mary’s sister, Alice, arrived from New York City with a house party of eight people in the hope of spending the month of July with them. McCully, who was not a rich man by their city standards, had offered them employment cutting cane after the second week, and the glamorous Alice had furiously called him a feudal dictator, mixing it all up historically. Hadn’t there been a Constitution for just this thing? She’d thought the camp cunning and sweet at first, but now, she was very sorry to say, she saw the advantages of Communism, a statement that thrilled her with its boldness. To McCully’s astonishment, she even stamped her foot. They left on a yacht that very afternoon to visit Dick Stratton at the Parker Ranch. Mary had been embarrassed. Mamie had been fascinated. One of Alice’s guests, an interior decorator from London, left Mamie two books,
South Wind
and
My Dog Tulip
. They were certainly not to be found at the Waimea Library and she had been very flattered to be given them. She read both books the night they sailed.
    Mary was shouting at McCully, “Are you sure? Are you sure of this?”
    Before Mamie had time to close the refrigerator door, Mary ran into the kitchen and shouted angrily, “Do you know what you are talking about?”—mindless of Mitsuya, gaping, with the cake balanced precariously on the palm of one trembling hand; mindless of Claire who had wandered into the kitchen with Jimmy slung around her neck; mindless of Mamie’s terror.
    Mamie’s face flushed bright red. She could not open her mouth. Of course, she thought, it is not my mouth to open.
    Mary forced herself to speak more calmly. “Do you understand the consequences of your accusation? He is gone, you know. Why would he want to come back now?”
    McCully came into the kitchen. He stood behind his wife. Mary reached around Mamie and it seemed as if she were going to strike her, but she only closed the refrigerator door with great force. Claire’s eyes dilated with fascination. Mamie was unable to look at her mother, which made her seem guilty and ashamed.
    “Why would you want him back now?” McCully asked quietly.
    “Why? Why?” Mary turned to him.
    Mamie burst into tears. She covered her face with her hands.
    “I