Chap­ter 21 begins with Will reflect­ing on the old pine-plank board­walk locat­ed behind his house, a piece of his­to­ry that had been care­ful­ly pre­served by his grand­fa­ther. This board­walk, which stood proud­ly amidst the mod­ern land­scape of con­crete side­walks, had become a sym­bol of the past. Through the years, it had with­stood the elements—the scorch­ing heat of sum­mer, the tor­ren­tial rains, and the cold of win­ter. Despite the harsh con­di­tions, it remained stur­dy, hold­ing mem­o­ries of a time long gone, when the world was sim­pler and less con­cerned with the rapid pace of change. The board­walk was more than just a phys­i­cal struc­ture; it rep­re­sent­ed a con­nec­tion to Will’s child­hood, to his grand­fa­ther, and to a past that seemed to grow increas­ing­ly dis­tant with each pass­ing day. It stood firm, a time­less reminder that some things, like mem­o­ries and places, can endure, even when every­thing else around them changes.

As Will lay in bed that night, the qui­et of the house sur­round­ing him, his thoughts turned to this cher­ished rel­ic of his child­hood. It wasn’t just a boardwalk—it was a part of his his­to­ry, one that had wit­nessed count­less moments of youth­ful mis­chief and adven­ture. Boys like Will and Jim didn’t fol­low the con­ven­tion­al paths; instead of ring­ing door­bells, they engaged in play­ful pranks, such as toss­ing dirt at hous­es or leav­ing cryp­tic notes for oth­ers to find. It was on nights like these that Will and Jim would sneak out under the cov­er of dark­ness, mak­ing their way to the board­walk that had become their own secret play­ground. Over time, they had learned to cre­ate their own music with the board­walk, with each step pro­duc­ing a unique melody. They had even per­fect­ed this rit­u­al, know­ing that cer­tain tunes sig­ni­fied cer­tain adven­tures. A melody resem­bling “Way Down Upon the Swa­nee Riv­er” meant a trip to the riv­er caves, while a tune like “March­ing Through Geor­gia” indi­cat­ed that ripe fruits await­ed them beyond the town. The board­walk wasn’t just wood beneath their feet; it was a part of their lan­guage, their unspo­ken con­nec­tion.

On this par­tic­u­lar evening, Will’s antic­i­pa­tion grew as he lay there, wait­ing for the famil­iar sounds of the board­walk. He won­dered what kind of melody Jim would play tonight, espe­cial­ly with the lin­ger­ing thoughts of the unset­tling car­ni­val still fresh in his mind. The atmos­phere seemed charged, as if the world itself was hold­ing its breath. Will was eager for the night’s adven­ture, but there was also a gnaw­ing unease in him, a sense that some­thing was dif­fer­ent this time. The clock struck ten-thir­ty, but there was no sound. The absence of music made Will uneasy, and his mind began to race. He became trou­bled by the thought that Jim might be fac­ing dark­er, more trou­bling thoughts on his own, espe­cial­ly with­out the com­fort­ing pres­ence of a father fig­ure and the over­bear­ing atten­tion of his moth­er. Will was used to being Jim’s con­fi­dant, but tonight felt dif­fer­ent, and the silence stretched on longer than he liked.

At exact­ly ten-thir­ty-five, the silence was bro­ken, but it was not the tune Will had expect­ed. For a brief moment, he thought it was Jim play­ing, but then he real­ized that it was just his imag­i­na­tion, fill­ing in the gaps with sound. His sense of rest­less­ness grew, the ten­sion in the air pal­pa­ble. Will won­dered if he had just imag­ined the whole thing, but the feel­ing of being left in the dark was unset­tling. Sud­den­ly, Jim’s win­dow creaked open, and with­out a word, he began to climb down the drain­pipe. Will’s heart skipped a beat as he rushed to fol­low, his pulse quick­en­ing. He didn’t want to be left behind, to lose sight of his best friend. In that instant, Jim remind­ed him of their deep bond—together, they had always seen the world dif­fer­ent­ly, notic­ing what oth­ers over­looked. But now, Jim was mov­ing away, retreat­ing into the night with­out him, and Will couldn’t bear to be left in the qui­et, won­der­ing what might unfold with­out him by Jim’s side.

Deter­mined to stay close, Will fol­lowed Jim, his feet pound­ing against the ground as he hur­ried after him. They passed by Miss Foley’s house, a famil­iar land­mark in their qui­et town, and Will couldn’t shake the feel­ing that some­thing had shift­ed tonight. The sense of adven­ture that always accom­pa­nied their night­time escapades now felt tinged with uncer­tain­ty. As they walked, the cool night air seemed to hold a sense of mys­tery, as if the world was watch­ing them close­ly. With each step, Will felt as though they were ven­tur­ing fur­ther into a place where the bound­aries of real­i­ty were more flu­id, and the con­se­quences of their actions were more seri­ous. Tonight, the adven­ture was dif­fer­ent; it was no longer just about mis­chief and fun. There was some­thing more at stake, some­thing deep­er, as the boys moved clos­er to the unknown. The night, and their jour­ney, was just begin­ning, and Will couldn’t help but won­der what would hap­pen next.