The Coin with the Bird

Laila ran the skewer cart at the north end of the bus terminal. She sold chicken, onions and green peppers on sticks, and she sold them hot. Her cart had a squeaky wheel, a small gas grill, and a glass tip dish by the till. Every night at closing time, she emptied that dish onto a folded cloth and counted what she found.

For two weeks, the same strange thing happened. Each night, at the bottom of the dish, lay one coin that did not belong to this country. It was small and heavy. It had a bird on one side and tiny letters on the other. The letters were not ours. Laila could not read them, and neither could anybody else.

"It's a different coin every night," said Lazlo, her helper. He was twenty-two, tall, and always hungry. "Look. This one is thicker. Yesterday's was thinner."

"It is the same bird," Laila said. She turned the coin under the lamp. "The same bird, the same letters. Only the edge is different. Somebody is playing a game with us."

"Maybe it's a gift from a rich traveller," said Lazlo.

"A rich traveller would leave a note," said Laila. "And this is worth nothing in any shop. I tried to spend one at the kiosk. The man laughed at me."

She put the coin on the counter next to the others. There were fourteen of them now, in a neat line, like tiny soldiers. Lazlo looked at them for a long time.

"We have a puzzle," he said at last. "A mystery. We could solve it."

"We have a cart and a hundred hungry people and a bus at ten past nine," said Laila. "But yes. I want to know. A coin is a small thing, but a bird that follows me every night is not."

That evening, they made a plan. Lazlo would watch the tip dish from behind the grill. Laila would serve the customers and keep her ears open. They would write down everything they noticed on the back of a paper menu. Whoever solved the puzzle first would not wash the grill for a week.

The first clue came early. At nine o'clock, the coin was not yet in the dish. At half past nine, the big bus from the coast arrived. Then there were three coins in the dish. Two were from this country, and one had the bird.

"It came after the coast bus," Lazlo said, writing quickly. "Clue number one. Not before. Only after."

"Maybe a passenger from the coast puts it there," said Laila.

"But every night? Always from the coast?" Lazlo shook his head. "That's too tidy. Tourists would pay with all kinds of coins, not one kind."

The second clue came the next night. Laila started to look closely at the people who paid in cash. Most paid with paper money, and they took their change without looking. Some left a coin in the dish, and some did not. She noticed that one type of customer always left coins: the people whose hands were wet.

"Wet hands," she said, and she tapped the menu with her pen. "Clue number two. Look at that man. He has just washed his hands. He drops the coin in the dish with the water still on his fingers."

"The washroom is behind the ticket hall," said Lazlo. He frowned. "Maybe someone in the washroom is giving out coins. A cleaner? A guard?"

"Why would a guard give out foreign coins?"

"For luck?" he suggested. "For a joke? Or maybe the guard is a spy."

Laila looked at him for a moment. "Lazlo. A spy would choose a better place than a skewer cart."

On the third night, the clue came from a very small customer. A girl of about six stood at the edge of the cart, holding her father's hand. The father paid for two skewers with a large note. Laila gave him his change, and the girl looked at the coins in her father's palm.

"Daddy," the girl said loudly, "you got a bird again."

"I know, sweetheart," said the father. He looked slightly embarrassed. "It came out of the machine. It always does."

"Which machine?" Laila asked, as casually as she could.

"The turnstile," the father said. "At the washroom. It costs a coin to go in. I never have the exact amount, so I put in a note. The machine gives me change."

He held up the bird coin, a little sadly.

"It's always this one. Nobody here can spend it. So I drop it in your tip dish. I hope that's all right. It's the nearest place."

Laila stared at him. Behind her, Lazlo made a small noise, like a kettle.

"The machine gives you change," Laila said slowly.

"Yes. It's been broken for months. It only gives back this coin."

"Thank you," said Laila. "You have been very helpful."

When the father and the girl walked away, Lazlo put down his pen. "Clue number three," he said. "The turnstile. It gives out the foreign coins. And everybody with a note gets one. Everybody with wet hands, because they are all coming from the washroom."

"And then everybody drops it in my dish," said Laila, "because it is the nearest place."

She started to laugh. She laughed until she had to hold the edge of the cart.

"For two weeks, we looked for a spy and a rich traveller. And it was the toilet."

"It's the most ordinary answer in the world," Lazlo said, wiping his eyes. "It is almost too ordinary to be true."

"Who loads the machine with change?" Laila asked, once she could speak again.

"Somebody who made a mistake a long time ago," said Lazlo. "And nobody has ever checked."

They went and looked at the machine after the last bus. It stood at the back of the ticket hall, grey and square. It had a slot for coins and a slot for notes. A sign above it said "Exact coins preferred." A small drawer at the bottom held the change. Lazlo pressed a button, and a bird coin rolled out into his hand.

"It's fifteen now," he said. "We have fifteen."

"I know the manager of the terminal," said Laila. "He buys a skewer every evening. I will tell him tomorrow."

"Tell him tonight," said Lazlo. "Look at the queue."

A line of five tired people had formed behind them. A woman at the front held a coin in her hand and glared at the slot. Her face said that she had waited long enough.

Laila looked at the bird in her palm. It had been in her tip dish for two weeks, and it had never done anything useful. She smiled at the woman. Then she stepped forward, pushed the coin into the slot, and heard a small, satisfying click. The turnstile swung open.

"Please go ahead," Laila said, and she held the gate for the woman until she was through.