Free Come August, Come Freedom by Gigi Amateau

Nanny stood on her garden rock, waving. Then she bent to the ground and traced the letters in the dirt, first with her finger and then with the same stick that Gabriel had used to write her name: Nanny.

IN THE fall, well after the last harvest, Gabriel obtained a weekend pass and put aside his work. He rushed back to Henrico, tracking through the woods along a narrow rise in the land, toting his best tools, those hammers and tongs and wedges that he could not work without. He hurried back to see Nanny.
    Gabriel did not need to keep a list of reasons why he loved her. His love for Nan was in everything within and around him. When he walked through the forest, he heard Nanny singing, not the wren. When his stomach churned with hunger, he didn’t crave Ma’s food or even Kissey’s, just a simple meal of Nanny’s making. The place on his chest where Nanny had last touched him burned for her. The bare November trees let him see far down the ridge, and for miles he told himself, Almost home. Almost home to Nan.
    When, at last, the earth’s slope turned low and flat, he bayed for Dog. “Ah-oo. Ah-oo.” He called for the hound, and in the distance the dog called back.
    He walked for another half mile, until he reached the Chickahominy Swamp. There, Gabriel sat down on the thick roots of a great old cypress to wait for Dog and to think of Nanny. Gabriel was tired. More than anything, he wanted to rest his head in Nanny’s lap. I’ll shut my eyes, rest here a minute. Just till Dog finds me.
    The sun was setting when Dog’s wet nose nudged Gabriel awake. The air had grown cool, and the forest floor had turned moist. The hound walked with him back to Brookfield. On the way, the pair of them filled Gabriel’s belt with meat enough for Nanny and Ma. He gave Dog her fair share for her part in the hunt.
    When he reached Brookfield, Gabriel checked in with Prosser’s man, then slipped away past the apple tree, down the hill, and into Nanny’s arms. On his first night back, they skipped the gathering in the woods, and he started teaching Nanny the letters. She wanted to learn to read and write.
    By the pine-knot fire and the light of one small candle, he took up a stick and wrote A on the dirt floor. “Apple,” said Gabriel. “Like our tree.”
    “A. Apple,” Nanny repeated, and copied in the dirt.
    “Now, B. Bear. Ever seen a bear in the forest, Nan?”
    At C, he felt Nanny’s hand on his knee. He thought to get up and toss another knot onto the fire, but the heat from Nanny’s palm kept him still. “This one is called C. Say C, ” he said.
    Nanny brought her hand up to the back of Gabriel’s neck, and she kissed his ear. “I already said C. ” She set her cheek on his shoulder.
    He closed his eyes and tried to say the next letter, but he could only want more Nanny. More of her touch on his leg and more of her breath on his arm. Gabriel turned his face to Nanny’s; his mouth nearly touched hers. He had only to part his lips, and Nanny’s lips would be right there. When he dared to reach out just a bit more, she kissed him back. But such a rare and sweet stolen night by the firelight was not nearly enough time for them.
    Gabriel spent the next three years working throughout the region, making Nanny’s freedom money. Every week, every month, every year, brought them closer to their dream. When he turned twenty-two, Gabriel could wait no longer. With almost all of Nanny’s freedom money saved up, Gabriel went back up to the great house.

GABRIEL HAD new business at the great house. Having saved what he thought nearly enough to free Nanny, he would now seek Mr. Prosser’s permission to marry her. He thought he had best keep his freedom plan to himself, at least until Nan and he were husband and wife. He knew if he straightaway told Mr. Prosser of his intention to manumit Nanny, the old man might withhold his blessing.
    Do this right and we’re one step closer. After we jump the broom, then I’ll go see Colonel