October 1875

Elijah Kirkland stood on the catwalk of the lighthouse looking out upon the peaceful waters of Lake Michigan. Wisps of his long blond hair, that had escaped the ribbon tying it back, blew in the slight breeze. His eyes reflected the color of the water and clear sky. He loved this place, but he worried about his wife. For ten years, he had been keeper of the lighthouse. He was the first. The lighthouse was built the same year the War Between the States had ended. He and his wife, Isabella, moved into the Keeper's home immediately after they married. During the first four years of his tenure at the lighthouse the two of them happily tended to the arduous duties of keeping the beacon lighted for boats and ships no matter the weather. They both faced the calm days, storm driven days, and the wretched ice storms for which the lake was known with determination and pride in knowing that their efforts kept ships safe from the rocky shores.

Sadly, the last six years wore heavily upon his wife. For several years, they tried to have a family. Finally, Isabella told him she was carrying their long awaited child, only to have their son die soon after his birth. They lived in complete isolation, and there was no chance of getting the medical care needed. Although both were devastated, Isabella grew increasingly angry and withdrawn. Matters worsened when Elijah came back from his semi-annual trips for supplies. Upon his return from those trips, Isabella would falsely accuse him of being unfaithful, then hide in the bedroom refusing to speak to him or be near him for several weeks.

Elijah took a last look over the calm waters and sighed. It was October 14th, tomorrow he would leave for another supply trip. He had to make the trip before the coming winter prevented him from doing so. Once again he would leave Isabella at the lighthouse to keep the beacon burning. He hated leaving her alone, but there was no other way. Slowly, he descended the stairs knowing the ensuing argument would leave them both angry.

The evening of October 31st, Isabella stood on the rocky shore waiting for her husband. He was late, he should have been home the day before. She vacillated between worry for his safety and seething rage because he dared to leave her alone for two weeks on this god forsaken island. Fog hovered off the shore only 50 yards out, fingers of rolling moisture reached tentatively towards the rocks then quickly receded as if afraid of the woman standing there. The full moon's brightness pushed through the fog creating a diffused halo of light. Calm yourself, Isabella, she reminded herself. Remember you promised that you would not allow yourself to be jealous or angry. Instead, be joyous at his return. And she was.

Finally, the muffled sound of oars pulling against the current reached her ears. Elijah and his boat's ghostly silhouettes became more defined as he neared the island. Isabella called out to him, "Elijah, Elijah, welcome home my love!"

"Hello, my Sweet!" Elijah was surprised at the unusually effusive greeting for he was expecting a scowling, bitter countenance from his wife. It made him regret finally succumbing, after all those years of being faithful, to the wiles of Rebecca, the pretty brunette at the bar.

Isabella stepped forward to grab the painter and secure it to the iron ring bolted to the boulder. She turned to find herself gathered in her husband's strong corded arms. "Oh, Isabella, how I missed you!"

Together they carried the supplies to the Keeper's house and stored them. Again the blond lighthouse keeper wrapped his arms around Isabella's waist as he looked into her brown eyes. "Sweetheart, I'm going to check on the beacon, I'll be right back to unpack."

Isabella watched him head towards the lighthouse then she turned to unpack his bag. She knew he was tired and wouldn't have the energy to unpack. Humming to herself she sorted the clothes for washing until her hand fell upon a silk scarf, a beautiful red paisley silk scarf. What a nice surprise! He brought home a gift. She brought it up to her face then instantly moved it away. The scarf reeked of a woman's perfume and she found a couple of long brown hairs in its folds. What Elijah hadn't known was that Rebecca left the scarf in his bag as a keepsake. Isabella's resolve to be happy and supportive dissolved and was replaced with a deepening rage.

Isabella calmed herself outwardly. She picked up the scarf, hiding it by stuffing it up the sleeve of her dress. She went to the lighthouse, climbed the stairs calling to Elijah in a singsonging voice. When she reached the catwalk she walked up to him. "Oh, Elijah, what a thoughtful husband you are! What a beautiful scarf you brought home."

"Scarf?"

As she held it up for him to see he recognized it immediately and paled. Isabella shrieked and charged him in her jealous rage. Her momentum carried them both over the railing of the lighthouse's catwalk where they were dashed upon the rocks below, killing them instantly.

The fog rolled over the island surrounding it like a thick gray pall and hovered there for twenty-four hours. When it finally dissipated its was as if the island never existed.

October 31, 1894 - nineteen years later

Elias and Amanda Kendrick, a young couple in their early twenties, decided to enjoy the warm day of the Indian summer and take the gaff rigged sailboat out. They weren't worried about staying out as there was to be a full moon that night. After a long afternoon of sailing in a light breeze, the couple realized it was time to head home. They had not noticed the fog bank forming off shore. Elias decided it would be wiser to land the boat on the nearest shore until the fog lifted. He pulled in the sail and began rowing to the nearest visible point of land belonging to one of many in a group of islands. However, the fog shifted, covering up the point of land and cleared off to the west revealing an island that he did not remember seeing on the charts. Elias, shrugged his shoulders and rowed the boat in the direction of the island. Amanda saw a small lighthouse on the point. Standing on the shore was a dark-haired woman beckoning to them. Elias rowed towards the lighthouse.

As they landed, the woman introduced herself as Isabella and welcomed them ashore. Elias tied the painter of the boat to an iron ring bolted to a rock. As he did so, he noticed the fog closed in around the island yet never touched the shore. When the woman retreated into the Keeper's house the young couple climbed the steps to the lighthouse and ventured onto the catwalk.

The bright light of the full moon tried to penetrate the thick fog bank hovering fifty yards off the shore leaving a soft diffused halo with just enough light that it reflected off of Elias's fair hair. Amanda joked that with enough light shining on his hair, Elias could do a better job as a beacon of light than the lighthouse.

"This reminds me of an old tale," Amanda laughingly began. When Elias raised an inquiring eyebrow she continued. "The story tells of a haunted lighthouse on an island near the shore of the lake, much like this one. Supposedly, on a foggy Halloween night during a full moon the wife of the lighthouse keeper pushed him over the side of the catwalk's railing and then jumped after him. Both were killed. I believe the wife's name was Isa…"

A blood curdling scream interrupted her. They both turned towards the sound only to see the enraged Isabella standing and pointing an accusing finger at Elias.

"You, womanizer! You lecherous… I knew I couldn't trust you!" she shrieked. She screamed again rushing towards them and cursing someone named Elijah. Neither had time to react to the sound of her maniacal screams as a bitter cold blast of air violently pushed them over the railing to their deaths among the rocks below. Immediately, the fog closed in on the island. Hours later when it had dissipated, no island could be seen.