Somebody packed a picnic

Big Bertha was ready.

Her green hood gleamed. Her mirrors sparkled. Her warm amber eyes watched the yard gate.

Gary arrived with his usual greeting.

“Morning, beautiful.”

Bertha brightened.

Then Russ arrived with a lunch bag.

An enormous lunch bag.

Gary looked at Russ. Looked at the bag. Looked at Bertha.

“Did we hire a helper or open a restaurant?”

“Mom packed a little extra.”

Russ opened it.

Three sandwiches. A banana. A fourth sandwich.

And, right at the bottom, another banana.

Gary leaned closer.

“That first banana brought a friend.”

Bertha's eyes moved toward the bag, then toward the cab.

“Don't worry,” Russ told her. “I brought my own seat.”

He paused.

“Well. You brought my seat.”

Gary grinned.

“Good start. Everybody knows their job.”

At the hedge, Carlos was organizing the smallest crew in the neighborhood.

Brenda held their little cart steady. Caleb was holding a paper cup.

Pepe inspected a wobbly wheel.

Carlos pointed importantly toward the bakery.

Caleb put the cup on his head.

Apparently, somebody thought they were going to a party.

The sprinkler surprise

Bertha knew this street.

The squeaky gate. The house with the blue shutters. Tommy, who always waved with both arms.

And Mr. Alvarez's sprinkler.

Today, that sprinkler was pointing in a most unusual direction.

Straight at the collection spot.

Gary parked safely.

Bertha's eyes moved toward the sprinkler.

Gary looked.

It ticked left.

Ticked right.

Stopped.

“All clear,” he said.

Russ opened his mouth.

Tick.

Gary stepped straight back into the cab.

His cap was wet.

Only his cap.

Russ pressed his lips together.

He tried very hard.

He failed.

Gary took off the cap.

One drop landed on his nose.

“Don't say it.”

“Nice morning for a shower?”

Bertha's eyes squeezed into the happiest smile Russ had seen all morning.

Mr. Alvarez hurried over and switched off the water.

“Sorry, Gary!”

Gary wrung out the brim.

“No trouble. The hat needed a wash.”

He glanced at Bertha.

“Yes, yes. I should have looked twice.”

Bertha spots a mystery

At the bakery corner, something silver flashed beside the garden gate.

Bertha noticed.

Russ followed her gaze.

“Gary. We've got a visitor.”

They parked and went to look.

A silver machine stood on a sturdy table.

Two knobs. A little tray. An upside-down cup.

Russ folded his arms.

“Robot.”

Gary considered.

“Robot wearing a hat.”

Bertha looked from the silver machine to Gary's damp cap.

Russ laughed.

“At least its hat is dry.”

A paper sign hung beside the machine.

PLEASE TAKE.

The bottom had folded behind the table.

“Take what?” Russ asked.

Gary reached toward the paper, then stopped.

He looked at Bertha.

Her eyes were already on the garden gate.

“Right,” Gary said. “Ask first.”

Mr. Alvarez came outside.

“I wondered when my favorite green truck would spot that.”

He unfolded the sign.

PLEASE TAKE A LOOK.

Below it, in smaller letters:

THIS COFFEE MACHINE NEEDS A NEW HOME.

Gary nodded at Russ.

“Your robot has a job.”

A job for the whole crew

The machine was cool and unplugged.

Mr. Alvarez showed them a photograph of his dad behind the bakery counter.

There was the same silver machine.

“We're putting in a smaller one,” he explained. “But I'd like this one to keep making people happy.”

Russ looked at Bertha.

He remembered his own first day. Gary opening the cab door. That empty seat.

One place waiting for him.

Gary smiled.

“I know a crew.”

He called Linda.

“Bertha found us a coffee machine.”

“Is it bigger than the break room?”

Gary looked at it.

“Russ?”

Russ looked at it.

“Possibly smaller.”

Linda waited.

“Measure it.”

They measured the machine.

Then the gate.

Then Russ held the tape across Gary's lunch bag.

“Wrong delivery,” Gary said.

Linda arranged a proper equipment pickup and a qualified check before use.

Mr. Alvarez offered the machine to the yard.

Tomorrow, if it was ready, he'd come over for its first cup.

“A little welcome,” Russ said.

Bertha's eyes warmed.

Little welcomes were something she understood.

The grand entrance

By the hedge, the animal crew was arranging a welcome of its own.

Carlos had found a clean scrap of yellow ribbon.

He stretched it across their little path.

A grand entrance!

Brenda looked at the ribbon.

Then at the cart.

Then at Carlos.

Carlos bowed.

He had not noticed the problem.

Caleb pushed the cart one gentle step.

It stopped.

He stopped too.

The ribbon had caught around the little wheel.

Carlos lifted his end.

His paper cup hat slid over one eye.

Brenda held up a paw.

Everybody stopped moving.

Pepe crouched beside the cart.

One ribbon loop.

One folded leaf.

One very crowded wheel.

He untucked the ribbon. Brenda steadied the cart. Caleb held the loose end well clear.

Then Pepe pulled out the leaf.

He sat down.

His hat landed in Caleb's cup.

Caleb looked inside.

He looked at Pepe.

That was definitely not a drink.

Brenda helped Pepe up.

They fastened the ribbon in a short bow above the handle, away from the wheels.

One push.

The cart rolled beautifully.

Carlos opened his arms.

The grand entrance was now open.

For people who had actually checked the entrance.

Bertha knows the way

That afternoon, the equipment team secured the silver machine on the proper moving cart.

Gary and Russ returned after their route to help clear the path.

Through the gate they went.

Almost.

There was a flowerpot.

A very large flowerpot.

Exactly where nobody needed a very large flowerpot.

The movers stopped.

Russ looked back at Bertha.

Her eyes were resting on it.

“You saw that ages ago, didn't you?”

Gary folded his arms.

“She's having a very good day.”

With Mr. Alvarez's permission, they moved the pot.

The cart passed through.

The machine was loaded into the equipment vehicle.

“Which way?” the driver asked.

Russ pointed to Bertha.

“Follow the green truck.”

Gary checked the road, and Bertha led the way.

Past the bakery.

Past Tommy waving with both arms.

Past the sprinkler.

Gary looked at it.

Russ looked at Gary.

“Windows up?”

“Windows up.”

Bertha's amber eyes smiled all the way home.

The smallest cup in the world

The next morning, the checked machine stood behind the break-room counter.

Mr. Alvarez arrived.

Linda arranged the cups.

Gary stood ready.

Russ leaned forward.

The machine hummed.

Clicked.

And made one very small coffee.

Gary looked at the cup.

“Where's the rest?”

Linda handed it to him.

“Try it.”

He tried it.

He stopped.

He looked at the machine again.

“Oh.”

Russ raised his eyebrows.

“Good?”

Gary nodded.

Mr. Alvarez laughed.

Outside, Bertha watched from her parked place.

Russ noticed her.

“Wait a minute. We're thanking the machine.”

He pointed toward the yard.

“What about the one who found it?”

Linda smiled.

“Craft table.”

Russ was already on his way.

The cup commotion

At the visitor table, Della and Ryleigh poured lemonade.

Mimi steadied a sheet of paper while Tommy drew a green truck.

Emi sat beside Della.

Watching a biscuit.

Still watching.

Remarkable concentration.

Russ brought a stack of empty paper cups.

Gary brought napkins.

A breeze brought trouble.

One napkin lifted.

Two cups toppled.

Then the whole empty stack rolled sideways across the table.

“Whoa!” Russ reached for it.

Linda held up a hand.

“One thing each.”

Della held the paper flat.

Ryleigh steadied the cup stack.

Gary caught the napkins against his chest.

One stuck to his wet cap.

Russ looked at it.

Gary looked at Russ.

“Don't.”

“Nice hat.”

Bertha's eyes twinkled.

Behind the supply tray, Pepe had spotted a clean paper clip.

He lifted it.

Two steps.

A determined breath.

Two more steps.

Linda turned back and found it.

“Just what we need.”

The clip held the drawing to the display board.

The cups went into a basket.

The napkins went under a holder.

The breeze tried again.

Nothing moved.

Gary took the napkin off his cap.

“We have defeated the weather.”

A corner of his shirt fluttered.

Russ grinned.

“Mostly.”

Bertha's surprise

They placed the display board where Bertha could see it.

One green truck.

Two warm eyes.

And three enormous words.

THANK YOU, BERTHA.

Tommy stood beside his mother.

“I only gave you six wheels this time.”

Gary studied the drawing.

“Much easier to park.”

Mr. Alvarez raised his cup.

“For finding a new home for an old friend.”

Russ stepped beside Bertha's hood.

“And for noticing the things the rest of us miss.”

Gary lifted his damp cap.

“Especially sprinklers.”

Everybody laughed.

At the hedge, Carlos raised an empty paper cup.

Brenda raised hers.

Caleb raised his.

Pepe looked inside his own cup.

His hat was still in it.

He took the hat out.

Put it on.

Then raised the cup.

Now they were ready.

Tommy looked up at Gary.

“Does Bertha get coffee?”

“No coffee for trucks.”

Tommy thought for a moment.

Then he gave her the biggest wave of the morning.

Bertha's warm eyes traveled across her crew.

The people.

The little visitors.

The tiny helpers by the hedge.

Gary rested a hand on her hood.

“Best part of the job.”

Russ nodded.

He had started the week wondering whether there was a place for him.

Now he stood beside Bertha, helping make room for somebody else.

And tomorrow, with Bertha leading the way, there would be another adventure.