I tell meself one day I going send word to James, tell him all the things I seen and done since the last time we been in each other company. I plan to, want to, but in the end I didn’t and I come to understand why. I cared about James Smith, loved him like a brother, but he belonged to a part of me life that is over. A time I don’t want to remember, when I was a slave. A rebel. A convict. A bushranger.

A Ticket of Leave man is what I am now. A man working for a kind master and mistress, helping out with whatever little thing that needs to be done.

Is sunset and the master just return from town. Rushing over to where me digging up the garden, getting it ready to plant a new crop of vegetables.

‘It’s come, William,’ him say, holding up a letter, his eyes shining bright.

‘What’s come?’ I ask, me mind still on getting the garden ready.

‘Your pardon.’

It still mean nothing and I keep on digging.

‘I sent them a letter. Told them of your service. The Crown has given you a pardon.’

What the master saying slowly start to enter me mind. I take the letter, look at it, look at it again, notice me hand shaking. When I say nothing, the master stand by me, read it out loud, and the words start to float all round me.

His Excellency the Governor has directed it to be notified that Her Majesty is graciously pleased to authorise the issue of pardon to the under mentioned person on condition that during the remainder of the term of his respective sentence, he does not return to the country or colony from which he was respectively transported. Pardon available every where save in the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland and Jamaica: William Buchanan, Moffatt.

When him finish reading out them words, I start to feel heat rise up in me face. Me heart start pounding, I start to tremble and then suddenly me legs give way. Must be a fever catch me, because I fall into a heap on the ground. Look up to see the master’s face bending over me. See his mouth moving, but I can’t hear the words, they seem to be coming from a far way off. And as I slip into darkness, into stillness, I slowly come to understand the fight is over.

And I hear myself whisper, ‘Freedom.’

And in the whispering of that word, I get lifted out of the darkness, till a dream of light surround me.

Last Night

I wake with a start. Been dreaming. Dreaming bout a light that shine bright, strong, hot, even though all round is a cool, shadowy darkness. A light that call to me. Softly, softly, if only I can reach it. Touch it. Pull it out of the darkness, keep it safe.