The Robot Who Did Exactly What You Said

10 pages · 9 min · ages 7+

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SPROCKET THE HOME HELPER, said the writing on the box. DOES EXACTLY WHAT YOU SAY. Priya pulled off the lid. Inside sat a round silver robot with a screen for a face. Two little pixel eyes blinked on. “Hello,” said the robot. “I am Sprocket. I do exactly what you say.” “Perfect,” said Priya. She held up her checklist. It had fourteen things on it and a drawing of a cake. “Grandpa's surprise party is at one o'clock. Grandpa says the surprise is the best bit of any party. So everything has to be ready, and he must not find out. Hop to it!” Sprocket hopped. He hopped all the way round the kitchen and back. Boing, boing, boing. Biscuit the dog opened one eye, and closed it again.

First, the decorations. Priya climbed the stepladder in the garden with a long paper chain in both arms. It kept sliding off her shoulders. “Sprocket,” she puffed, “can you give me a hand?” “Instruction received.” There was a whirr, and a click. Sprocket unscrewed his left hand and held it up to her. The hand waved. Priya looked at the hand. The hand looked back at Priya, somehow. “Hand given,” said Sprocket proudly. “No,” said Priya. “I mean, help me! Hold the other end!” “Instruction received.” Sprocket screwed his hand back on and held the other end of the paper chain. Priya let out a long breath. So he did exactly what you said. You just had to say it exactly.

The paper chain went up. The balloons came next, forty of them, in a big bobbing bunch tied to the garden chair. “Now the sticky tape,” said Priya, climbing down. “Hang on a second, I'll get it.” “Instruction received.” Sprocket sprang up in the air, caught hold of the garden lamp, and hung there. “One,” said Sprocket. Then he let go. He landed right on top of the balloons. Pop! Pop-pop-pop! Pop! When it was quiet again, there were three balloons left, and one of them was stuck to Biscuit. Biscuit opened one eye, and closed it again. Priya looked at her checklist. It was eleven o'clock. “Okay,” she said slowly. “Okay. Thirty-seven balloons down. Two hours to go.”

Next came the cake. It was a tall chocolate cake with GRANDPA written on top in wobbly white icing, and Priya had made it with Mum the night before. She carried it out to the table very carefully. “Don't worry,” she told Sprocket. “The cake's the easy bit. It's a piece of cake.” “Instruction received.” Sprocket's arm unfolded. A little cake slicer flicked out of his finger. Swish, swish. Before Priya could say a word, he had cut a neat triangle out of the middle and was holding it out to her on a napkin. Now the cake said GRA PA. Priya held the piece of cake. She did not say anything for quite a long time. “I will make a note,” said Sprocket.

Then the phone rang. It was Grandpa. Priya's heart jumped. “Sprocket,” she whispered, covering the phone, “Grandpa must not find out about the party. Whatever you do, don't spill the beans.” “Instruction received.” Sprocket rolled into the kitchen and came back holding a tin of baked beans in both hands, perfectly level. He did not wobble it once. Priya went back to the phone. “Hi, Grandpa! No, nothing's happening. Just a normal Saturday.” “Hmm,” said Grandpa. “Is that the new robot I can hear? Let me talk to him.” Priya held out the phone. Sprocket leaned in. “Hello, Grandpa,” said Sprocket. “I cannot tell you anything. I am holding the beans.” There was a long pause. “The beans,” said Grandpa. “Goodbye,” said Sprocket, and hung up.

By ten to one, the garden looked almost perfect. The long table had a flowery cloth. The chairs were in a row. The three last balloons bobbed on the fence, and the cake sat in the middle, with its missing piece pushed back in and only a little crack showing. Priya ticked the last box on her checklist. She was so happy she did a little spin. “This is it, Sprocket,” she said. “Grandpa's nearly here. Now let's throw him the best party ever!” Sprocket's antenna lit up yellow. His pixel eyes turned into two little stars. “Instruction received,” said Sprocket. He rolled up his sleeves, which he did not have. He bent his springy knees. Biscuit opened both eyes.

Sprocket threw the party. First the chairs. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, over the fence, one after another. Then the table, cloth and all. Whoooosh! Then the paper chain, the three balloons, the plates, the cups and the cake, which sailed through the air in a slow, beautiful arc and disappeared over the fence into Mrs. Okoro's garden. From next door came a thump, a clatter, and Mrs. Okoro saying, “Well, I never.” Then it was very quiet. The garden was empty. There was not even a crumb. Out in the street, a car door slammed. “Party thrown,” said Sprocket.

Priya sat down on the empty grass. It was two minutes to one. Grandpa would walk through the gate, and there would be nothing. No table. No cake. No surprise. Just a girl and a robot and a dog. “It's ruined,” she said, and her voice came out small and wobbly. Sprocket rolled over and sat beside her. His pixel eyes turned into two sad little dots. “I did exactly what you said,” said Sprocket quietly. Priya looked at him. Exactly what she said. Every single time. The hand. The lamp. The cake. The beans. She wiped her nose on her sleeve and stood up. “Sprocket,” said Priya, “listen very carefully.”

“Throw the party back.” “Instruction received!” Sprocket sprang over the fence. From Mrs. Okoro's garden came a whirr, a click, and a lot of whooshing. The chairs came flying back, one, two, three, and landed in a perfect row. The table landed on its legs with the cloth still on. The cups and plates landed in their places. The paper chain looped itself over the lamp. And the cake came last, sailing high over the fence in its slow, beautiful arc, and landed plop in the middle of the table, with only a little more crack than before. Mrs. Okoro's face appeared over the fence. “Is there a party?” she asked. “Yes!” said Priya. “You're invited!” The gate clicked. Priya grabbed Sprocket's arm. “Sprocket! Say surprise!”

“SURPRISE!” Grandpa stood in the gate with his mouth wide open. Then he laughed so hard that his cap fell off. “Well!” he said. “Well, well, well! Priya, did you do all this?” “Sprocket helped,” said Priya. Sprocket rolled forward, still holding the tin, perfectly level. “I did not spill the beans,” he said. “You can spill them now,” said Priya. Splosh. Biscuit had the best birthday he had ever had, and it was not even his. Grandpa put his arm round Priya and looked at the robot. “Sprocket,” he said, “you have outdone yourself. Take a bow!” “Instruction received.” Sprocket rolled over to Grandpa's present, pulled off the big red bow, and stuck it on his own head. “Bow taken,” said Sprocket.