Chap­ter 4 begins with Will paus­ing to observe the town as the clock strikes nine on a Fri­day night. The live­ly, bustling atmos­phere of the town abrupt­ly qui­ets, with the final toll sig­nal­ing the end of the evening’s activ­i­ties. The shops, which were once filled with vibrant ener­gy, shut their doors, and the streets emp­ty, leav­ing behind only the faint echoes of peo­ple and the rem­nants of their presence—scraps of news­pa­per and for­got­ten items scat­tered along the side­walks. The lights go out, and an eerie silence set­tles in, trans­form­ing the town from a live­ly space into some­thing ghost­ly and for­got­ten. Will, struck by the rapid dis­ap­pear­ance of the town’s ener­gy, express­es dis­be­lief, com­par­ing the scene to an approach­ing storm. Jim, ever the enig­mat­ic fig­ure, responds with a fore­bod­ing affir­ma­tion, as the two boys feel the weight of the moment set­tle in around them.

The atmos­phere grows increas­ing­ly uncom­fort­able as Will and Jim walk through the dark­ened streets, pass­ing famil­iar places now draped in shad­ows. Their sur­round­ings seem to be altered by the loss of life, and even the once-bustling estab­lish­ments now stand silent and life­less. As they make their way down the street, they encounter Mr. Tet­ley, the cig­ar store own­er, who stands near his store, gaz­ing into the dis­tance. The wood­en Indi­an fig­ure out­side the shop adds to the eerie atmos­phere, its sto­ic pres­ence high­light­ing the odd still­ness that has over­tak­en the area. Mr. Tet­ley, usu­al­ly full of humor and life, seems lost in a moment of his own, dis­con­nect­ed from the boys and the world around him. His attempts at light-heart­ed­ness fal­ter, as he becomes absorbed in some­thing unseen, deep­en­ing the sense of strange­ness that seems to be grow­ing through­out the town.

As Will and Jim con­tin­ue, they are drawn fur­ther into the qui­et, almost oppres­sive dark­ness that now envelops the town. They come across Mr. Croset­ti, the bar­ber, who stands out­side his shop, tears stream­ing down his face. His sor­row is linked to an unex­pect­ed source—a famil­iar and nos­tal­gic scent of cot­ton can­dy, which, under the cur­rent cir­cum­stances, feels com­plete­ly out of place. Will and Jim are both tak­en aback by this, unsure of how to respond to the strange mix­ture of emo­tions and mem­o­ries this smell evokes. The scent trans­ports Mr. Croset­ti to anoth­er time, a moment in his past when such sim­ple plea­sures were part of the every­day rhythm of life. He laments how time has passed so quick­ly, with life’s sim­ple joys slip­ping by unno­ticed amidst the busy­ness of exis­tence. The nos­tal­gic moment is bit­ter­sweet, as Mr. Croset­ti comes to the real­iza­tion that he has been swept up in the rush of life, miss­ing the beau­ty of small­er, sim­pler moments.

Will, notic­ing the depth of Mr. Crosetti’s reflec­tion, gen­tly inter­jects, remind­ing him of how the busy nature of life often drowns out moments of deep­er con­tem­pla­tion. This exchange becomes a turn­ing point for Mr. Croset­ti, forc­ing him to recon­sid­er his per­spec­tive on the fleet­ing nature of time and the val­ue of those small, cher­ished moments that often go unno­ticed. He con­tem­plates the idea of turn­ing off the light on the bar­ber pole, a sym­bol of the pass­ing of time, but Will urges him not to. Mr. Croset­ti hes­i­tates, under­stand­ing the deep­er mean­ing of the pole’s glow­ing light, which has become more than just a sim­ple sign but a sym­bol of life’s ongo­ing mys­tery and mag­ic. The glow rep­re­sents the con­ti­nu­ity of life, the nev­er-end­ing cycle from one moment to the next, and despite the dark­ness sur­round­ing them, it holds a sense of hope. By choos­ing to keep the light on, Mr. Croset­ti embraces the beau­ty of life’s per­sis­tence, even in moments of uncer­tain­ty. The chap­ter con­cludes with a sense of nos­tal­gia, as the lin­ger­ing smells of cot­ton can­dy and licorice fill the air, leav­ing behind a qui­et sense of mys­tery and antic­i­pa­tion for what the future holds. Will and Jim, walk­ing away into the night, car­ry with them the weight of the night’s con­ver­sa­tion, under­stand­ing that change is inevitable, but hope per­sists in the small­est of things.