My family has a Christmas tradition to tell ghost stories. My brother uncovered this little known custom from the 19th century about 5 years ago. Ever since then, we gather around the tree, after the presents have been opened and the dinner has been eaten, and listen to a tale. My dad has written the most ghost stories of the family, with my brother claiming the title of second most prolific. In 2021, I contributed to the tradition for the first time. This story was inspired by a trip to Mackinac Island, MI, where I learned that in the past, residents used to cut and place trees in the ice that formed on the lake, so they could easily find their way to the mainland and home again if they ever needed to leave the island in winter.

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Edwin looked out across the frozen lake towards the mainland. Behind him, his sleigh rested on ice, thick over the stones of the beach. He could see the line of evergreen trees that had been planted in the ice marking the path between the island and the rest of Michigan. He could also see how there was a storm gathering. It looked like snow.

It was a risk, he knew, but if he stayed close to the trees, then he was sure he could find his way across when it was time to come home. He only needed a few things from the general store. It wouldn’t take long to do the shopping. Maybe the storm would even stay off until he was safe home.

Next to him, Joseph sucked his teeth, thinking. Edwin gave him a questioning look. “What is it?” he asked, knowing his brother had something he wanted to say. He could see it in his posture.

“Might not be worth it,” he said. “Could go tomorrow, once the snow is on the ground.”

Edwin thought about their mother’s wracking cough, and her worsening fever. “We’ve waited too long already.”

               “Alright,” Joseph replied, resigned to the plan. “But we should be quick.” He gingerly stepped onto the ice, testing his footing. “Not too quick,” he added. “It’s slick.”

               Edwin followed Joseph across the frozen lake, careful to keep him within arm’s reach. He lugged the sled behind him. The sound of its metal skis scratching the ice were the only sound on the wind, except of course the wind itself.

               By the time they reached the mainland, Edwin knew it had been a mistake to cross. The snow was beginning to swirl around them, huge plate sized flakes. The sky deepened to a dark gray, the same color as the rocks around the lake. He tugged his scarf tighter around his neck, and hunched against the wind.

               “I’ll get the flour and oil,” Joseph offered. “You go to the pharmacy.”

               “I’d rather stay together,” Edwin said, uneasiness sliding through him.

               “We have to be fast, Ed.” His brother eyed him pleadingly. “It’ll be quicker this way.”

               Edwin hesitated but nodded at Joseph’s plan. He was older. He’d crossed in worse weather than this.

               Edwin left the sled with his brother and went as fast as he dared down the icy street to the pharmacy. He could see the pharmacist going through the shop, putting out the lanterns. He tried the door, but it was locked. He banged at the glass, drawing the attention of the man inside. Slowly, the pharmacist, Dr. Cuthbert, came to the door.

               “Was just closing up,” he said, through a crack in the door.

               “Please, sir, my mother is very ill,” Edwin said, nearly interrupting the man.

               Dr. Cuthbert sighed shortly, then opened the door enough for Edwin to squeeze in. He moved towards the counter as Edwin trailed him. “What’s bothering her?” he asked.

               “She’s got a terrible cough. Had it for weeks now. Sometimes she can’t catch her breath her fits are so bad.” He paused, unsure how the older man would feel about his makeshift medicine “Me and Joseph have been funneling whiskey into her, just so she can sleep.”

               “Hmmmm,” Dr. Cuthbert murmured to himself as he pulled a bottle off the shelf. “I think a little honey in her tea might be better for her. Mix in some thyme for her as well, and that should do the trick.” He began to package up the items he had pulled from the shelf. Outside, the wind was gusting along the buildings, howling eerily. “You be careful going back across the lake, son,” he said.

               Edwin nodded to Dr Cuthbert, hastily placing two coins on the counter before stuffing the tea, honey and thyme into his coat pocket. He retreated from the warmth of the shop into the driving snow. He could hardly see the cobbles anymore. He marched towards the grocery, seeing Joseph waiting for him with the sled, loaded with flour and a few other goods.

               “We should wait until it blows over!” Joseph called to him as he neared.

               Edwin looked around him at the empty street. All the shops had gone dark. “Where?” he asked.

               Joseph twisted his mouth. He was nervous. “Alright, stay close,” he said.

               Edwin tried to walk directly in Joseph’s tracks as they started across the lake. The snow was thick now, thicker than it seemed possible. The sled was sinking into it. Edwin knew they might have to pick it and carry it before too long. He wondered if the flour would be any good by the time they made it home. He dug his hand into his pocket, clutching at the parcels there, the reason he had dared brave the storm.

               But something was missing.

               He gasped, and looked behind him in the show. Where had he dropped the bag of thyme leaves? How had it slipped from his pocket?

               “Edwin?” Joseph’s voice was fearful. “What are you doing?”

               “I dropped it!” he said, frantic. He began to backtrack, hoping, but knowing, he would never find it in the show.

               “Edwin!” his brother called again. “Come back!”

               But Edwin was lost in thought, in his quest to find the missing package. The snowflakes were smaller now. Maybe the worst of the storm was over. Keeping his head down, his eyes fixed on the snow at his feet, he scanned the ground, searching. He couldn’t hear Joseph’s call any longer.

               Looking up, he realized her couldn’t see the line of evergreens either. He was lost on the lake.

               He was in a full panic now. He couldn’t stay out here until daylight. He would freeze. He had to keep moving, but which direction? He looked to his right and it was just as obscured with snow and cloud as his right. He resisted the urge to plunk himself down in the snow and weep.

               He clutched his arms around himself, rubbing his hands over them for warmth. He closed his eyes and prayed for a miracle.

               When he opened them, feeling slightly calmed, he saw it. A small brown package at his feet, one corner of it sticking out of the snow. The thyme! He reached down, plucking it from it’s near-tomb. He felt in his pocket for the tea and the honey. Stuffing the thyme into his coat, he began to look around him. Which way was home?

               “Joseph!” he called. There was no answer.

               Then, in the distance, he saw a small flash. He squinted. It was a light. He wondered who else was out here on the ice. “Joseph!” he called again, moving towards the light. It wobbled back and forth, as if someone was carrying it on a pole. He trailed after it, whoever carried it knew where they were going. What was odd, though, is that he never seemed to gain on it. The light bobbled in the distance, seeming always to be just at his view of vision no matter how fast he moved.

               He could see the island rising through the mist now, and his heart felt a little lighter. But then he remembered Joseph. Had he turned back to find him? Was he still waiting on the lake?

               He came up the shore, the ice turning to stones before the stones turned to dirt and then the remnants of last summer’s grass. There, on the dock, was Joseph, one hand on the rope of the sled.

               Edwin ran towards him, arms outstretched. “Joseph!” he breathed, as he crashed into him.

               “You could have died!” his brother scolded, sounding angry even as he squeezed him around the ribs. “Why did you go back?”

               “I dropped one of the packages from the pharmacy,” Edwin muttered.

               Joseph sighed with understanding. “Did you find it?” he asked.

               Edwin nodded repeatedly, relieved and still surprised by the small miracle that had been. Then he frowned, remembering. “Was that you with the light?”

               Joseph frowned. “What light?”

               “There was someone else on the ice. I followed the light of their lantern.”

               Joseph looked confused. “I didn’t see anyone else come this way. No one with a lantern anyway.”

               “Oh,” Edwin replied, frowning. “Then…” But he didn’t finish the sentence. He fingered the package of thyme in his pocket. “Let’s just go home,” he said instead. Joseph put an arm around his shoulders, steering him away from the dock.