In the garden, every evening was the same.
When the sun went down and the grass turned cool, the crickets began to chirp. Chirp-chirp. Chirp-chirp.
Every cricket. On every branch. In every bush.
Except one.
Tüsi lived beside the big stone, under the geraniums. In the evening he came out, rubbed his wings together, and nothing happened.
No sound at all. Only the grass rustling.
“Chirp,” Tüsi tried, quietly.
It did not work.
“Chirp-chirp,” he tried, louder.
It did not work again.
The other crickets sounded from far away: chirp-chirp, chirp-chirp. It was lovely, all together, like a song.
Tüsi put his head down.
“I can’t do anything,” he said.
The garden kept quiet, and waited.
Along came Csiga, who always walked slowly, and always saw everything.
“What’s the matter, Tüsi?” she asked.
“I can’t chirp,” said Tüsi. “And every cricket can.”
Csiga climbed slowly onto the big stone and sat down beside him.
“I can’t hurry either,” she said. “And every snail can.”
Tüsi looked up.
“That’s different.”
“Why is it different?”
Tüsi could not say.
The two of them just sat on the stone and watched the dark come. The crickets chirped on. Chirp-chirp. Chirp-chirp.
“Try it another way,” said Csiga. “Not with your wings.”
“What shall I chirp with?”
“I don’t know,” said Csiga. “I’m only slow. I’m not clever.”
Tüsi thought about it.
Then he lifted one of his legs and tapped the stone.
Tock.
One small sound. But it was his.
“That’s a sound!” cried Tüsi.
“That is a sound,” said Csiga.
Tüsi tapped again. Tock. Then twice. Tock-tock.
The garden kept quiet, and listened.
That night the crickets chirped, chirp-chirp, chirp-chirp, and underneath them, at the big stone, a small sound knocked along with them: tock, tock.
Nobody told him it was wrong.
The moon came up behind the trees, round and bright. The grass was dewy. The geraniums closed their petals.
“Tüsi,” said Csiga. “Tomorrow night the moon will be full. In the garden, everyone sings.”
“I can’t sing.”
“You don’t have to,” said Csiga. “It’s enough that you’re there.”
Tüsi crawled under the geranium, next to the big stone, and put his leg against the stone.
Tock.
Quietly, once.
Then he fell asleep.
