That’s when it’s called a Pentacle. If on the other hand you turn it one hundred-eighty degrees, and two of the points are at the top,” I spun my finger in a circle, “it’s called a Pentagram and represents the spirit’s union with material elements.” I relaxed back into my chair. “Some however, place an improper, albeit widely accepted, meaning on the Pentagram. They claim it represents Satan, evil, black magick, etcetera.”

“So, if it’s right side up or whatever, it doesn’t mean anything evil?” he posed.

“It actually depends on who drew it, and the significance THEY placed on it, but it’s really nothing more than a symbol. Inherently, neither of them mean anything evil,” I answered. “In my religion anyway.”

Ben stared thoughtfully out into the night, absently fingering the rim of his Scotch glass and quietly puffing on his cigar. I didn’t disturb him. Instead I watched the orange glow on the end of the cigar each time he puffed and waited patiently for the next question.

“What about colors?” he asked. “Do ya’ color it in or somethin’? You know, like a rainbow?”

“Sometimes you’ll find a different color at each of the four corners,” I answered. “Yellow in the upper left, blue in the upper right, red in the lower right, and green in the lower left. They represent the elements of Air, Water, Fire, and Earth. On occasion the top point will be white, representing Akasha, or the spirit.”

“Would they be pastels?” he queried.

“Well, I suppose if you wanted to be artistic about it they could,” I laughed. “But they don’t have to be. Just yellow, blue, red, green, and white.” I could feel his tension congealing around us and knew that something about a Pentacle was really bothering him. I was just about to break my own rules and press for the problem when he elected to reveal it on his own.