Three hundred miles from Queen West, Leslie Williams handwrites a two-page letter in Waynesburg, Pennsylvania. His identity is summed up by numbers in his writeaprisoner.com profile. He is 5’11, 155 pounds, and was incarcerated in 1981; exactly 10 years before I was born. Our birthdays are 7 days apart, and his release date is in 2020 (he will be 65 and I will be 29).

For 34 years, Leslie has served his prison sentence in the Pennsylvania Department of Corrections for robbery, a crime he committed in Dauphin – a forgotten borough at the mouth of Stoney Creek. The details of his robbery are unknown, but they don’t matter in our pen pal correspondence. He is in prison and I am free.

Writing to a prisoner is foreign to me. Leslie Williams (#AJ-1721) is my first inmate, and I’m hopeful that he isn’t a pervert looking for his next pen pal bride. Before writing my letter, I collected the scenes, smells and sounds outside of his cell. I mean seriously, Leslie’s missed out on a whole lot. Did he know what the Internet was? Uber? Nutella? Orthorexia? Kanye West? Likely not. That’s when I decided that I would use our letter correspondence to draw a picture of the people and places outside: to tell him about single-wheel electric scooters in the Financial District, stinky Queen West streetcars (ugh), and the Caramilk chocolate bar that melted in the bottom of my backpack. Minutes after writing my first paragraph, I apparently had enough material to double the page length of War and Peace (1869).

Driven by curiosity, I asked the hard hitting questions off the top of my head: Leslie, what is your favourite chocolate bar? What was the last book you read? Do you know how to use a computer, iPhone or typewriter? The questions continued. Do you know what hashtags are? Where will you live when you’re released from prison? What’s Philadelphia like?

Then I described feelings, memories and flavours. I described the purple cumulus clouds on College Street, the soft Beef Cheek tacos at La Carnita and the stale spaceship air in my condo. I complained about the 11-hour bus ride to NYC, and how impressive the Brooklyn Bridge looked from DUMBO after I sneezed in the freshly cut grass by the hot dog stand. I described the familiar strangers I saw in the city. I admitted to him that most people want to be by themselves in a cabin in the woods; sort of like prison, but with more flowers, natural lighting and freedom. I also told him about the Mike Tyson documentary on Netflix. Did Leslie have an inner voice that he had befriended? Leslie might not even know who Mike Tyson is, considering Tyson didn’t rise to heavyweight stardom until the late 1980s. Do they have TV in prison? God, I don’t know. But I asked him anyway. I also suggested that he watch Shawshank Redemption. Don’t worry, I’ll share my Netflix password with you, I added. It’s the least I could do for him.

Two weeks later, I opened my mailbox and found a big white envelope addressed to me in messy handwriting. It was from Leslie:

Wednesday, July 1st, 2015

Dear Sarah,

Thank you for writing to me. The last book that I read was Wildlife of Various Animals, which I enjoyed reading. I don’t have a favorite book, but if I did it would be on the subject of wildlife, traveling, or some aspect of nature or being free.

I haven’t been to Toronto yet, but I would love to visit Toronto upon my release from prison 4/30/2020 and other parts of Canada as well. Yes! I have used a typewriter. Not a computer. I’m computer ignorant.

So you’re around 24 years old right? Strange thing. I was 26 years old when I was incarcerated. Now I’m sixty years old (60), what a waste and hell to go. I’m also very excited to be released from prison in 2020 with great joy and expectation. And you’re also right: a lot has changed since I was last out: this is why I’m doing what I can to reach out to anyone to help me re-orientate myself to the outside world. I know I won’t be able to do this by myself.

At this point I know I’ll not be going back to Philly when I’m released. I don’t know exactly where I’m going but I know it’ll be out of PA (Pennsylvania). I do love to travel! Who knows where I’ll end up at? Do you have any family in the U.S.A? Or in New York State?

It’s a beautiful thing and a great joy to travel about as you do. Please be careful doing all that traveling by yourself. I’ll take you up on checking out the Night Hawk Cinema one day if God willing for me to do so! You’re also right about the bus taking 2 years from Philly to New York City. My mother, when she was alive, used to take us as a family there.

Right now my favorite chocolate bar is Snickers. I like you already just because you’re a traveling person. BE GOOD TO YOURSELF.

Your new friend and caring human being,
Leslie

I re-read the letter like a child with my finger under each sentence, carefully examining each period, question mark and exclamation. The penmanship was uncertain and forgiving, with a few words scribbled out in doubt. OMG, HE’S GOING TO LOVE PLANET EARTH! Was anybody visiting him in prison anymore? Can I sneak a Snickers bar into my next letter? Hmmm. Promptly, I wrote back:

Thursday, July 9th, 2015

Dear Leslie,

I’m so happy you like nature and wildlife. A few days ago, I found out that flamingos are born white. When they’re older, their skin turns pink from the shrimp they eat. Isn’t that funny? When you get out, you should watch this TV series called Planet Earth. It’s all about animals and their natural habitat. It takes you out of your head and reminds you about all the wild things that happen outdoors; like the march of the penguins or insects that only live for 8 hours then fall to the ground like little black raindrops in the jungle. My parents live in B.C. (sort of near Oregon) and it’s filled with forests and mountains. The air is so fresh and crisp, you wouldn’t believe it. And you can swim in big lakes surrounded by huge trees that tower over you for miles above. You should visit there if you ever get a chance.

That’s correct. I’m 24 years old. Wow, you were 26 years old when you were incarcerated? That’s a long time to be in prison. Do you have many friends in prison? Next time I write to you, I’ll send you a book to read (when I have extra $$ to ship it). The name of the book is called, “On the Road” and it’s about a great American road trip. It’s beautifully written and it will take you outside of your cell and across the country! The exciting thing about being released from prison is that you can restart your life anywhere you want. Now you can start planning your vacation!

Do you know where you’re going to work when you’re released from prison? There’s plenty of interesting jobs out there: maybe you could work at an animal shelter or be a professional bird watcher. Birds are my favourite kind of animal – AND camels. Camels are really adaptive; they can store food in their stomachs and regurgitate it to eat for later when they’re starving in the desert. Truly a resilient creature.

Wow, I can’t tell you how thankful I am for your beautiful card and poem. I wanted to return the favour, so I’ve included a Blue Jays baseball card I found at a garage sale ($0.50) on Dovercourt and a postcard from Berlin. I flew to Berlin last summer and walked everywhere. There’s a beautiful river that stretches across the city. Graffiti is everywhere and I ate a lot of ice cream (maybe a little too much). Snickers is a delicious chocolate bar. Today, my favourite chocolate bar is Crunchie.

Sincerely,
Sarah

One thing is for certain: Leslie and I are pals now. I doubt we’ll ever meet in person, but that’s okay. Leslie gives me life perspective from a Pennsylvania prison and I draw him silly pictures of wildlife, streetcars and condo towers in Toronto. And maybe that’s all the freedom we need right now – melted chocolate bars and a few doodles, with great expectations for the future.