Then she sees that they too are standing on nothing. They are adrift in nothingness! "Help me," she pleads.
For the first time TooTrue looks pleased. "Of course I'll help you, you poor dear soul."
A soul? "Am I dead?"
Nick studies the men working on her car. "Not yet," he says. "Your time is slipping away. Once your body dies, the choice is no longer yours to make."
"Have you been a good girl?" asks TT.
"Yes. No...Sometimes."
TT smiles, his teeth are brownish, she notices.
Nick looks at her thoughtfully. "Just how bad have you been?" he asks gently.
"I've never killed anyone." Wonderful, what an epitaph! She Never Killed Anyone.
TT looks at her suspiciously. "Is that the best you can do?" he asks.
"I shopped-lifted a few times, but nothing really expensive. It was a dare. Just to prove I could do it." Her voice pleads for understanding. "I was a kid...just a kid."
TT is absolutely glaring at her now. "Pathetic."
"Oh, give the girl a break, TT. I'm sure she can find something that will suffice."
TT whirls on Nick. "Listen you, stick to your own parameters and I'll take care of mine."
Nick turns to Erin, who is watching them anxiously. "I suppose you went to church and confessed your crimes?"
"I don't go to church," she admits in a whisper. TT narrows his eyes at her. "But I'm truly sorry. I would never do such a thing now."
Nick is humming along to some music only he can hear. "Repentant, are you?" he asks.
"Yes, I am."
"And you'll never steal again?" TT demands.
"No, I won't. Truly I won't."
"Well then―"
"Not really your type, is she TT?" asks Nick.
TT glares at his opponent. "I could squeeze her in."
"How about sex?" suggests Nick. "That's always a rich field."
Erin freezes. "Sex?"
TT leans forward, his hungry eyes fixed on her face. “Tell me about your sex life, Erin." When she flushes with embarrassment , he smiles with satisfaction. "You’re a whore."
"No!"
"Don't worry about it," says Nick. "If you go with him, there'll be no sex . . . ever. On the other hand, if you choose to come with me, there'll be sex galore." Nick suddenly jumps high and shouts, "Hallelujah!" His jump takes him almost ten feet high.
TT looks up at him sourly. "Bursting with joy," he mutters bitterly.
As Nick floats back down to wherever they are he asks, "Do you like to dance?" He starts to dance himself, whirling an imaginary partner around the misty galaxy.
Out of the corner of her eye she can see TT scowling? It's obvious he disapproves. "No," she says, "I don't dance."
Both Nick and TT look at her sharply. "You're lying." TT's eyes gleam.
"Why are you bothering to lie?" Nick asks gently.
"We can see through you like a piece of glass," sneers TT.
"A beautiful, fragile piece of glass," Nick amends.
"Yes," she says. "I like to dance."
"And sing?"
"And sing."
Nick is delighted. "Wonderful. My home is filled with song and dance. Laughter and―"
"―Drinking," TT breaks in. "Filthy louts lie about all day, drunk as sailors."
"In actually fact," Nick corrects him. "We seldom become drunk, simply happier." He turns to Erin. "You haven't been very happy lately, have you?"
She shakes her head.
He comes closer, but is careful not to touch her. "If you choose to come with me, there will be music and dancing, singing and laughing. Racing across the cool grass. There are sea-blessed breezes that blow across the velds. Dogs to romp with, horses to ride, but only if they want you to ride them. And the food." He kisses the tips of his fingers. "Ah the food."
"I'll get fat." She tries to joke.
"No one is fat in my house. Everyone is a perfect soul."
"Ha! If you believe that, you deserve to be his victim. Hasn't anyone warned you about signing a contract with Old Nick?" TT is in a rage, clenching an unclenching his fists, he bares his teeth at Nick.
"I'm not that old," Nick protests. "Besides, what do you offer her?"
"I? I offer nothing." He turns to the girl, for once his expressions softens, his scratchy voice tries its best to be soft and warm. "Haven't you been told all your life that Paradise must be earned, not just given as a silly gift?"
"We don't talk much about Paradise in my home," says Erin. "Just, you know, making a living, getting ahead, not being taken for a sucker."
TT leans forward, getting right in her face. "Exactly! And now you are on the very cusp of your reward."
Behind her Nick laughs. "Ask him what his Paradise is like," he says.
"Unimaginable to the likes of you," TT sneers at Nick.
"Are there angels?" she asks TT.
"There are saints in my Paradise."
"Saints!"
"Ask Old Nick what you'll find at his place," TT's voice drips with contempt. She turns with a questioning look.
"In my, ah, place, as he calls it, you'll find writers and painters, dancers and singers, poets and lovers, dreamers and doers. People who have occasionally been played for suckers and survived. In my house no one prays. Do you know why?" She shakes her head. " Because everyone is a prayer."
"They don't pray because they know they haven't a hope of getting out," TT snarls. "And that's your choice girl. Paradise or a place without a prayer." He points to Nick who is looking off into the mist, a smile on his handsome face. "Would you buy a used car from him?" TT asks her.
Yes, I probably would, she thinks sadly.
Nick looks at her with love. “TT may call his home Paradise, but others have another name for it."
"You can't cheat," screeches TT. "If you cheat I win."
"Don't worry," says Nick. "I never cheat," he tells Erin. "And I don't sell used cars."
"Times up," says TT. "Look." He points to where the rescue workers have stopped working and are standing around staring into her dismantled car. Her sprawled, bloody body is clearly visible.
"But I don't want to be dead!"
"Too late," grins TT. "No choice now." He reaches for her.
One of the men leans into her wrecked car and presses a stethoscope to her chest. "There's a faint heartbeat," he says. His voice is not hopeful.