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Excerpt from Daughter of Moloka'i by Alan Brennert, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

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Daughter of Moloka'i by Alan Brennert

Daughter of Moloka'i

by Alan Brennert
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  • First Published:
  • Feb 19, 2019, 320 pages
  • Paperback:
  • Jan 2020, 320 pages
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"Ruth! Please! Step back!"

But Ruth's attention was drawn to the cow's swollen udder. And what were those things sticking out of it like big fat fingers?

Intrigued, Ruth reached up and took one of the cow's teats in her hand—examining it, pulling it, squeezing it.

A stream of raw milk squirted out and into Ruth's face.

The other girls exploded into laughter. Sister Louisa pulled Ruth away from the animal. Either due to the warm, yellowish milk on her face or the mocking peal of the girls' laughter, Ruth began to cry.

"It's all right, little one," Louisa said, leading her away. "Let's go inside and wash that off your face."

The other girls clustered around the cow as the elderly Sister Helena arrived, frowning. "I do wish," she said, "that Mr. Mendonca would keep his livestock away from our live girls."

Eddie Kaohi, the Home's young groundskeeper, ran up, rope in hand. "I'll take her back where she belongs," he said, lassoing the cow's neck.

"Mahalo, Mr. Kaohi," said Sister Helena. Then, with a sigh: "Girls, really. You'd think none of you had ever seen a cow before."

"She's cute," said ten-year-old Addie as she swatted a fly away from the cow's face. "She has the prettiest eyes!"

Sister Helena gazed into the heifer's soulful brown eyes, her stern face softening. "Yes," she allowed, "I suppose she does."

In the bathroom Sister Louisa scrubbed Ruth's face with soap and water and asked her, "So what have you learned today, Ruth?"

"Cows shoot milk."

Louisa stifled a laugh. "That's why only dairy farmers should touch a cow's udder, not little girls who could get hurt."

"They laughed at me," Ruth said in a small voice. "Again."

"Again? When have the girls laughed at you before?"

"When I showed 'em my gecko."

Ah yes, the gecko. "Only because the gecko decided to run down the front of your dress."

"Ran away. I loved it and it ran away!"

"I know." Ruth loved every animal she had ever met. On a trip to the Honolulu Zoo, Ruth was enchanted by the monkeys, lions, swans, and Daisy, the African elephant. Sometimes Louisa thought the child would embrace a boa constrictor but for the welcome fact that there were no snakes in Hawai'i.

"An' they yelled at Ollie," Ruth lamented, "an' scared him away too!"

"Ollie was the mouse?"

Ruth nodded.

"Some of the younger girls were scared of Ollie," Louisa explained gently. "That's why they were yelling and—well, screaming."

"He was so cute!"

"I thought so too."

"They hate me," Ruth declared.

"No, they don't. They just don't love animals the way you do."

Ruth's face flushed with shame. "One girl called me a bad name."

Louisa straightened, concerned. "Who did?"

"Velma."

"What did she call you, Ruth?"

Ruth looked down and said quietly, "Hapa. She called me hapa."

Louisa laughed with relief. "Ruth, that isn't a bad word. It's just a Hawaiian word. It means half."

"Half?"

"Yes. Like if I gave you a cookie, then split it into two pieces and took away one piece, you'd have half of what I gave you."

Ruth's face wrinkled in confusion. "She called me a cookie?"

"Well, your papa was Japanese and your mama was Hawaiian, and so you're half Japanese and half Hawaiian. Hapa. There's absolutely nothing wrong with the word."

Ruth wasn't so sure. It still sounded like Velma was calling her half a cookie, which anyone knew wasn't as a good as a whole cookie.

"Sister Lu?"

"Yes, Ruth?"

"Can I meet my papa? And my mama?"

Louisa said softly, "I don't know, Ruth. Maybe someday."

Ruth considered that. "Sister Lu?"

"Yes, child?"

"Can I have a pet worm?"

Louisa did her best to reply with the same gravity as Ruth's question. "Well, you see, worms live underground. So if you wanted to have a pet worm, you'd have to live underground too. It's dark and cold and wet down there. I really don't think you'd like it."

Excerpted from Daughter of Moloka'i by Alan Brennert. Copyright © 2019 by Alan Brennert. Excerpted by permission of St. Martin's Press. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

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