I was twelve years old when I first decided to summon Satan.

I wasn’t an idiot about it, though. I’d watched a Sci-Fi Original Movie about summoning rituals, and I’d read more than a few Stephen King books, so I pretty much knew everything there was to know about the occult. I’d also borrowed my mom’s cross decoration from last Easter, so I could shank him with it if he started acting weird. I was ready.

First, I sat in the garden off to the side of our house, the one with all the small stones that bit into my knees when I crouched down sometimes. I swept the stones away, clearing a stretch of smooth, dark earth like a chalkboard. It was good dirt–planting dirt, Mom said–so I figured if the seeds of flowers grew in it well enough, the seeds of evil would, too. (Satan needs good aeration and a high nitrate level.)

There was a chill in the air, a low and steady bite that worked better than my hands ever could at clearing the garden of any leftover weeds. I shivered, adjusting my jacket, then fished a rock out of my pocket.

Step two of summoning Satan, the Sci-Fi Original Movie said, was to create a circle with a pentagram in it. That was an upside-down star, mind, because right-side up was Wiccan, and I wasn’t interested in appropriating their culture. It seemed rude… though I did take a moment to wonder what the difference was between upside-down and right-side-up was when drawing on the ground. Was it still upside-down if I moved to the other side of the circle? I decided, after a moment, that Satan probably appreciated the intent more than the execution. He didn’t seem like much of a stickler for rules.

(I hoped I didn’t summon a nature spirit on accident. My dad didn’t approve of hippies, and I didn’t want to disappoint him.)

I drew the circle, cutting a smooth wedge into the dirt. The Sci-Fi movie had had five candles around the pentagram, but I only had four tea lights leftover from my last trip to Wal-Mart. I put four of them around the pentagram points, and for the last I used a stubby birthday candle in blue and green.

The next step, of course, was to place a sacrifice in the middle. In the movie, the cultist villains had used a goat, which seemed a little far for me. For one thing, we didn’t have any goats. For another, it seemed mean. I’d shot BB pellets at pests a couple times before, on the farm, and once I saw a mouse in a glue trap, but none of those seemed quite the same as a sacrifice.

After some indecision, I settled on a bug. I could squish a bug pretty easily, and I was pretty sure Asian lady beetles were already the minions of Satan. (Plus, a dead bug was easier to clean up before Mom came home.) I found a swarm easily enough on the windowsill, and I plucked one out to place in the circle.

The last step, of course, was to kill. The bug kept trying to crawl away from the circle, but it was sluggish from cold, and I held it down with a finger.

“This is for you, dark lord Satan… or whatever demon wants it, I guess,” I said, in my most ritualistic voice, and I squished the bug.

Nothing happened.

I sat there, crouched over the dirt with rocks digging into my knees, and I listened to the wind blow. It picked up a little, which I looked towards with hope… then died back down again.

No demons answered. The day stayed sunny and clear and peaceful. The birthday candle dripped and snuffed itself out.

Well, hell. I climbed back to my feet, dusting off my jeans, then begrudgingly scuffed out the pentagram with a shoe. So much for that. Just as well, I guessed. I didn’t really know what I’d do with Satan, or how to send him back. None of the movies or books had really specified that part, shy of an exorcism ritual or a priest, and I didn’t have either handy.

Still… as I gathered up the candles, I dropped my hand into my jacket pocket. Inside, next to the matches, my fingers brushed against the threaded weave of a beaded friendship bracelet.

Maybe next time he’d show up. And I could say how I thought he seemed misunderstood, and lonely, and actually pretty cool. And maybe next time we could have a party.

Maybe.