February 10

Read about Michael Anthony here

Read excerpts from Anthony's short story collection Cricket in the Road

The whole street was very long and dusty, and in the concrete drain there was no water and the brown peel of onions blew about when there was a little wind. Sometimes there was the smell of cloves in the air and sometimes the smell of oilcloth, but where I stood the smell of the sweetness was strongest and most delicious.
He asked, "You like Calcutta Street?"
"Yes," I said.
The two women laughed coyly and looked from one to the other.
"I have to go," I said, "--school."
"O, you gwine to school?" the man said. He put down his rugs again. His loin-cloth was very tight around him. "Well you could wark so," he said, pointing away from the High Street end of the alley, "and when you get up dey, turn so, and when you wark and wark, you'll meet the school."
"Oh!" I said, surprised. I didn't know there was a way to school along this alley. "You see?" he said, very pleased with himself.
"Yes," I said.
The two women looked at him smiling and they seemed very proud the way he explained. I moved off to go, holding my books under my arm. The women looked at me and they smiled in a sad friendly way. I looked at the chutney and barah and channa and suddenly something occurred to me. I felt in my pockets and then I opened my books and looked among the pages. I heard one of the women whisper -- "Taking larning..." The other said, "Aha..." and I did not hear the rest of what she said. Desperately I turned the books down and shook them and the penny fell out rolling on the pavement. I grabbed it up and turned to the fat woman. For a moment I couldn't decide which, but the delicious smell of the yellow, wet channa softened my heart.
"A penny channa," I said, "wet."

from "Enchanted Alley" in Cricket in the Road

Visit Roberta Flack's website