Chap­ter 22 intro­duces a fresh per­spec­tive through the play­ful yet poignant expe­ri­ence of a baby buf­fa­lo at the Elm­wood Park Zoo, which, in a serendip­i­tous way, sets the stage for a meet­ing with a young boy named Jef­frey Magee. The baby buffalo’s dai­ly life unfolds as it feeds on its moth­er’s milk and begins to notice Jef­frey, a strange and curi­ous crea­ture who brings an unex­pect­ed form of inter­ac­tion into its world. Unlike its moth­er, who nour­ish­es the buf­fa­lo in a pre­dictable man­ner, Jef­frey intro­duces a sense of nov­el­ty by offer­ing car­rots, cre­at­ing a bond between the two. Each day, as Jef­frey appears, the buf­fa­lo looks for­ward to this new form of com­pan­ion­ship. Their inter­ac­tions, though sim­ple, are marked by affec­tion, as the buf­fa­lo nuz­zles the boy. How­ev­er, one day, the rou­tine is unex­pect­ed­ly inter­rupt­ed when Jef­frey, who had been play­ing near­by, falls and becomes silent, caus­ing the buf­fa­lo to step back in con­cern.

The sud­den fall of Jef­frey draws the atten­tion of an old­er man, who is star­tled to see the boy lying injured near the buf­fa­lo pen. The man quick­ly reacts, lift­ing Jef­frey and rush­ing him to his pick­up truck, know­ing that med­ical care is nec­es­sary but feel­ing an over­whelm­ing instinct to help the boy first. Though he’s aware of the need for imme­di­ate med­ical atten­tion, he dri­ves instead to the famil­iar and safe space of the band shell, where he lays Jef­frey gen­tly in a stor­age room filled with old base­ball equip­ment. In this qui­et moment, the old man, Grayson, removes his jack­et and places it over the boy, who is still breath­ing but bare­ly con­scious. For Grayson, who has spent most of his life iso­lat­ed and detached from the emo­tion­al bur­dens of oth­ers, this act of care feels unfa­mil­iar yet deeply mov­ing. As Jef­frey stirs and slow­ly comes back to con­scious­ness, his first ques­tion is sim­ple: “Where am I?” This moment marks the begin­ning of a con­nec­tion between the two, as Grayson, though unsure of what to expect, begins to see the boy in a new light.

While Grayson pre­pares some food for Jef­frey, the two begin to engage in a con­ver­sa­tion that grad­u­al­ly reveals more about Jeffrey’s sit­u­a­tion and the life he’s been lead­ing. Jef­frey, with the can­did­ness of a child, explains how he got his scrapes from hid­ing in the woods, ref­er­enc­ing “Wds” in a way that piques Grayson’s curios­i­ty. Despite his injuries, Jef­frey’s child­like enthu­si­asm remains, and he asks Grayson for a small but cher­ished com­fort: a box of but­ter­scotch Krimpets. The request, seem­ing­ly triv­ial, speaks vol­umes about his resilience and abil­i­ty to focus on sim­ple plea­sures even in times of dis­com­fort. Grayson, see­ing Jeffrey’s deter­mi­na­tion to keep going despite every­thing, asks about his liv­ing sit­u­a­tion. Jef­frey admits that he is dis­placed and no longer has a per­ma­nent home, pre­vi­ous­ly liv­ing on Sycamore Street before his cir­cum­stances changed. This exchange of per­son­al his­to­ry brings their bond even clos­er, reveal­ing the vul­ner­a­bil­i­ties each of them car­ries. The humor comes into play when Jeffrey’s buf­fa­lo-like scent becomes a point of laugh­ter between them, break­ing the ten­sion in the room and deep­en­ing their con­nec­tion. In this moment, Grayson’s will­ing­ness to indulge Jeffrey’s request for Krimpets marks a turn­ing point in their rela­tion­ship. The small act of kind­ness sym­bol­izes the begin­ning of a grow­ing friend­ship between them, one root­ed in care, under­stand­ing, and shared moments of light­ness. This chap­ter serves as a cru­cial point where both char­ac­ters, strug­gling in their own ways, find com­fort and com­pan­ion­ship in each oth­er, set­ting the stage for their future inter­ac­tions. Through their bond, they will each learn to nav­i­gate their respec­tive chal­lenges, sup­port­ing each oth­er along the way.