At dusk, Dalle rolled down the quiet street. All the windows were dark except one tiny porch light.
Dalle slowed beside the warm glow. Beep? Moths danced around the bulb. Dalle turned up the first path to help.
A newspaper skittered across the lawn. Dalle caught it and tucked it neatly by the neighbor's door.
Then Dalle nudged a tipped flowerpot upright. Crumbs of dirt spilled in a ring on the step. "Oh," said Dalle softly.
Dalle brushed the dirt into a tidy pile. A window clicked open, and a lamp inside blinked on.
At the next house, dropped mail hung halfway out of a box. Dalle stretched up and set it on the hook.
But one envelope stuck to Dalle's foot and came along like a silly paper shoe.
Dalle peeled it off with a tiny whirr. Clang! went the mailbox flag. From inside, a neighbor laughed. "Good catch!"
Another light popped on down the block. The street did not feel so lonely now.
At the last dim porch, Dalle lifted a wobbling bag of groceries. One round orange slipped free.
Bump, bump, bump went the orange down the steps. Then it zipped into the street.
Dalle darted after it through the blue shadows and cupped it just before the gutter.
Dalle looked up. Click, click, click! Porch lights, window lights, and fairy lights flicked on all at once down the block.
Dalle stood very still and listened. Doors opened. Voices called, "Thank you, Dalle!"
Dalle rolled back to the first little light. Now the whole street shone beside it like a row of friendly stars.
Neighbors waved from their porches. The air smelled like dinner and rain-cooled pavement. Dalle's eyes gleamed. "Beep-beep!"
