Page 13 of Nomad

“Well, speed may not be new to you…”

“Stop right there. This, what we’re doing here, isnotspeed.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re not driving.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Whatever.”

“City planning.”

“SimCity.” He shook his head. “That doesn’t mean anything to you?”

“No. Should it?”

“Well, yeah! You never saw the Sim games?”

“No.”

“Well, this guy who knew my dad from work gave us some of these computer games. You can build virtual cities, but you have to take all the details into account, like commercial zones, residential zones, where to put the streets and parks, what the buildings should look like and what their functions are. You have to figure out quality of life. Where people work in relationship to where they live and where they play. Where should schools go? Where should water treatment go? What about garbage? And you have a budget you have to work with.

“Then later there were all these other editions like SimCity Amusement Park. That one wasreallyfun.” She laughed. “It even had a little guy who yakked after he got off the roller coaster. It was hysterical.” Cann looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “Oh and SimCity of the Future.

“I loved those games. I could spend a whole weekend fooling around with this and that, trying to make it perfect, and I never got tired of it.”

“But that’s not the way cities get built in real life.”

“I know. But…”

“But what?”

“Modern cities are reconceiving themselves. They’re hiring people to figure out how to repurpose or renew to keep the population closer to where they work and play. That’s way more challenging than building a virtual city from the ground up. And way more exciting because it’s real people and real lives.”

Cann took over the driving after a restroom stop, but Bud continued to talk about the ins and outs of city planning until they stopped at a barbeque buffet in Abilene, but took the food to go.

When they were back in the car with brisket sandwiches, she said, “So Austin is home?”

“Yeah. I haven’t been back for a while, but I was born there.”

Since they were only three hours away, he thought it would be a good time to figure out what he was going to do with her when they got there.

“You thought about where you want me to drop you?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Since you know the town and all, I thought you could recommend a semi-safe neighborhood with a good walk score.”

“What the hell is a walk score?”

“It means it’s a place where you can live without a car. You can walk to work and get groceries and stuff like that.”

He harrumphed, which did serve to support his claim that he was an old man in a young man’s body. “Look. I don’t have to tell you this ain’t New York. The only place that has a good ‘walk score’ is the University of Texas and I’m tellin’ you right now you can’t afford to live around there.”

Her shoulders sagged as she slumped back against the front passenger seat. “Bus score?”

He snorted and shook his head. “Last time I was home, we had some junkers out back at Rides and Wrecks. Maybe we can find you somethin’ that runs. And you can pay us back when you’re a famous city planner.”

She turned to look at Cann in the gathering twilight. She felt emotion pressing behind her eyes and felt tears trying to form. She took in a deep breath and determined she wouldn’t cry.

“You’re an awful nice man, Johns. You gave me money. For no reason. Now you’re saying you might find me a car and let me pay it out? I’m not so unlucky, ‘cause you’re the one who found me.”