He studied; he consulted; he traveled to places of spice and silk; he collected advice and enticements, and at last he decided to call her. He constructed an alter and laid his gifts in rich profusion on it, old gifts of ribbons, lace, oils and beads, new gifts of plasma balls and iridescent threads, water gifts of ice and atomized spray, fire gifts of candles and incense. He made piles of treasures he had collected on beaches and in forests, shells, pine-cones, acorns, a crab claw, a braid of grass, a snake-skin, and drift-glass. He lit the candles and incense, laid out a full circle of tarot cards on the floor, and edged the circle with a thin path of salt. From the center to each card he carefully poured a spoke of salt. At last he placed some of the salt in his mouth and sat down in the middle of the mandala. He focused all of his attention on his heartbeat, to make it strong, that she might find him, and readied himself for the visitation.

He heard the midnight tintinnabulation of the university's carillon in the distance. "It is time," he said aloud, "come to me." But she would not be summoned like a simple dog. He waited, and waited. Light filtered through the window. His back ached and the salt burnt his mouth mercilessly, and still he sat in refused silence. Desolately he rose, stepped out of the circle, and went to fetch himself some water. "I knew I should have added a frog," he thought.