At 3am the city was quiet as Sadie turned in to her street. A shadow outside her building caused her to put one hand to her backpack without breaking stride, but the form quickly resolved itself to be Mrs Zimmerman from the third floor.

“Good evening Mrs Z, it’s cold out here. Let’s go inside huh?” She gently took the old lady’s elbow and steered her to the lobby door.

“I don’t have my key dear. I don’t have my key.” The old woman muttered, looking bewildered.

“We don’t need one see?’ Sadie put her palm to the scanner and the door opened. She bustled them up the two flights of stairs before the old lady looked at her and declared:

“I don’t know you! Who are you?”

“Quiet down there!” a man’s voice called out from a higher floor. “She’s been mumbling and wittering all night, ought to send her to a dementia ward.”

Hearing his hostility changed Mrs Zimmerman’s mood toward Sadie. She trembled and said fearfully.

“I don’t want to go! He can’t make me go!”

Sadie hushed her as she pointed at a blue door.

“You live here I think?”

Familiarity kicked in this time and Mrs Z remembered her palm. She unlocked the door and tripped in happily. Sadie almost left her but hesitated just long enough for the door to swing open and reveal the old woman standing, again bewildered, at the end of a short hall. Maybe if she just got her to bed, Sadie thought, someone would turn up in the morning to check in on her.

Reluctantly Sadie stepped in, ready to leave as soon as she wasn’t welcome. Meanwhile her neighbor trotted further into the interior, making clanking noises that might be mistaken for a person making tea. Sadie put down her bag by the front door and followed.

The kitchen was in a jumble. There was milk on the bench and a packet of ginger biscuits in the coolbox. The auto shopper was blinking – it wanted to confirm an order of milk, eggs, and various other items that Sadie could see Mrs Z already had. She went about sniffing to see what was fresh, ditching a few items and putting the rest in their place. Soon the list was down to only a few items that were ‘running low’ and the usual ‘specials’ that people like Sadie never ordered. She hit ‘check in 24 hours’ and avoided the pending supermarket delivery. How had old people managed before kitchens had stocktakes?

“Here you are dear!” Mrs Zimmerman handed her a mug, which looked clean enough, and with a chamomile tea bag sitting inside. She looked very pleased with herself. Sadie thanked her and put the mug under the hot water dispenser. The old lady was heading back into the hall, she stopped in a doorway.

“Oh! Have you done all this? And… is that your cat?”

Sadie, looking over her shoulder noticed the uncharacteristic order straight away. Objects were piled neatly, books were straight, and Thing2 was just adding a final piece to a jigsaw on the table.

Sadie looked at her much emptier bag in the hall, she took two steps and looked in another room – a gleaming bathroom. Thing1 was polishing the taps. The Things were fabulous with bathrooms, rarely needing prompts because the process was pretty much the same for any office. Porcelain, tile and mirror. Sadie grabbed the little bot and stepped back out as her neighbor, oblivious, headed to the commode.

“I’ll just spend a penny if you don’t mind,” she chirped.

Just then the hum of the vacuum kicked in – Thing4 hadn’t been able to resist the cleared floors. A banging from the ceiling above reminded Sadie it was not a great time to be cleaning house and she opened her bag and called the Things back. They scurried back to her and folded themselves together.

Mrs Zimmerman came out of her bathroom and entered her bedroom. As she sat on her bed she tripped a care sequence. An automated voice said:

“Mother, it’s nearly bedtime. Have you been to the bathroom?”

“hmph. Of course.”

“Are you ready to sleep?”

“Yes dear, good night dear.”

The lights were dimming, Mrs Z, fully clothed still, nestled into her bed. Sadie let herself out and headed up to the attic loft – her considerably smaller apartment.

She was dead beat. She peeled off her clothes and pulled on a fresh t-shirt. She called the Things to their chargers and powered them down. As she hung up the Thing bag she felt a bump – that bag of smashed tech. She should have tossed it back at the building. Oh well, maybe there was something useful she could recycle. The weekend stretched ahead of her.

She pulled down her bed and stretched out.

“Prrrt. Are you ready to sleep?”

“You’re supposed to be powered down! “

“Prrrt. Are you ready to sleep?”

“Yes Sweet Things.”

The things powered down, Thing1 added new bathroom data to the cleaning protocol. Thing2 replayed putting the jigsaw pieces together. Were there more puzzles in the places the Thing cleaning crew had not yet cleaned? Thing4 noted that the apartment four floors below was not yet completed. Must return when not in regular schedule.

Sadie was asleep with the taste of chamomile tea on her lips.