Chap­ter XXXI unfolds in a whirl­wind of ten­sion and emo­tion as the nar­ra­tor search­es des­per­ate­ly for a sil­ver hap­py birth­day pen amidst the over­whelm­ing chaos sur­round­ing them. The pen, a seem­ing­ly small object, is nowhere to be found, ampli­fy­ing the sense of urgency and dread. In the back bed­room, Will Junior is locked in a heat­ed argu­ment with Car­lene, who yells at him for dis­turb­ing her blan­kets. The narrator’s anx­i­ety height­ens as they catch sight of two police offi­cers approach­ing the trail­er through the rain, a sight that instant­ly sends a rip­ple of fear through the room. With the threat of the offi­cers draw­ing near­er, the fam­i­ly reacts quick­ly, lock­ing the front door and push­ing a chair against it, hop­ing to buy enough time to fig­ure out an escape route.

As the nar­ra­tor rush­es through the trail­er, their mind races, and they find Fish in the bath­room, clear­ly strug­gling emo­tion­al­ly with the unfold­ing events. Bob­bi is fran­ti­cal­ly search­ing through the wash­er and dry­er, per­haps look­ing for some­thing to dis­tract her­self from the mount­ing ten­sion. Even­tu­al­ly, Fish joins the nar­ra­tor and Bob­bi in Carlene’s bed­room, but their attempt to regroup is dis­rupt­ed by Car­lene, whose behav­ior grows increas­ing­ly errat­ic as she screams for help. To silence her, Bob­bi tries using Bub­ble Tape gum, but Carlene’s response is vio­lent, flail­ing her limbs and kick­ing in resis­tance. The nar­ra­tor, try­ing to regain some sense of con­trol over the sit­u­a­tion, grabs the miss­ing pen from Will, using it to draw a face on Carlene’s foot as a way to dis­tract her while also try­ing to find out where their miss­ing broth­er, Sam­son, has gone.

Despite Carlene’s defi­ance and the chaos around them, the nar­ra­tor remains focused on uncov­er­ing Samson’s where­abouts. The urgency of the moment becomes even more appar­ent when a voice, pre­sum­ably Samson’s, rings out in the narrator’s mind, say­ing he is “in the wall.” The police con­tin­ue bang­ing on the door, adding to the pres­sure and urgency, but the nar­ra­tor spots some­thing that might pro­vide an escape. They notice uneven pan­els in the wall and, after some effort, man­age to pry one open, reveal­ing a hid­den space behind it. The dis­cov­ery of this secret space brings both relief and frus­tra­tion, as the ten­sion reach­es its peak.

Inside the hid­den space, the nar­ra­tor finds Sam­son, com­plete­ly unaware of the chaos unfold­ing around him. He is sit­ting among clut­ter, hap­pi­ly draw­ing on him­self with a pen, lost in his own world. The chaot­ic scrib­bles he’s cre­at­ed with the pen are a col­or­ful and noisy reflec­tion of his thoughts, bring­ing a sense of ran­dom­ness and joy to the oth­er­wise tense moment. The nar­ra­tor, over­whelmed by the sight of Sam­son and relieved to have found him, embraces him tight­ly, feel­ing a deep sense of com­fort. How­ev­er, this brief moment of peace is shat­tered when Car­lene reap­pears in the door­way, hold­ing a broom and look­ing ready to lash out. The sud­den shift in ener­gy, from relief to ten­sion, under­scores the unpre­dictable nature of Carlene’s behav­ior and the pre­car­i­ous­ness of their sit­u­a­tion.

The chap­ter cap­tures the emo­tion­al roller­coast­er of the family’s ordeal, filled with fear, con­fu­sion, and the des­per­ate need to pro­tect each oth­er. Carlene’s unpre­dictable actions add a lay­er of com­plex­i­ty, mak­ing it even hard­er for the fam­i­ly to find any sense of peace or uni­ty. The narrator’s deter­mi­na­tion to reunite with Sam­son, despite the chaos and obsta­cles in their path, speaks to the deep bond that holds the fam­i­ly togeth­er. The pres­ence of the police offi­cers out­side and Carlene’s errat­ic behav­ior only serve to height­en the stakes, cre­at­ing a con­stant sense of urgency. As the chap­ter draws to a close, the family’s resilience in the face of such over­whelm­ing cir­cum­stances stands out, empha­siz­ing the impor­tance of stay­ing unit­ed and pro­tect­ing one anoth­er, no mat­ter what chal­lenges they face.