To Keep the South Manitou Light

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47 Jessie’s footsteps clanged on the metal steps as she climbed round and round to the top of the lighthouse. Halfway up, her long skirt tangled around her legs and she fell forward against the next sharp step. A dull pain shot through her right leg. Her hands on the iron handrail were cold and sweaty. Round and round she walked, slower and slower up the curving steps. As she cleared the second hatch, she was almost knocked backward by a strong gust of wind that blew in through the open iron door. Jessie dropped to her knees and crawled over to the opening. Looking out along the lower balcony, she couldn’t see the white cloth. Maybe it’s already blown off, she thought. But turning her head, she caught sight of it fluttering from the railing of the narrow, scary balcony above her. “I can’t, I can’t do it, “ she said holding onto the metal door. Hadn’t she gotten dizzy and sick just being out on the lower balcony , where at least the railing was higher and where strong bars were spaced every foot? Then she remembered her bold words to her mother just a few weeks ago: “We can keep the light, Mama, just the two of us. We don’t need any help.” And in her mind she could see herself throwing the jar with her mother’s letter in it into the blue waters of Lake Michigan. “We don’t need any help, we don’t need any help,” her words taunted her. 13 Taking a deep breath, Jessie crawled out onto the smooth metal floor of the balcony. She kept her eyes focused on the place where the black metal met the curving, white wall of the lighthouse and made her way to the wooden ladder propped against the wall. “God, help me. Please, help me,” she prayed. She grabbed the rungs of the ladder and began her climb.The wind tore at her skirt as she stepped over the top of the ladder and down onto the upper balcony. Up here there was no white wall to lean against. There were just the tall windows that surrounded the lantern. Jessie was almost overcome by the light, the airiness. She looked out across the water, which was tan near the shore, then turquoise, then deep blue. She stared across to the low, forested hills of the mainland that looked almost as blue as the water. “Just don’t look down, Jessie. Don’t look down,” she told herself. Up here, the railing was barely as high as her knees and the bars of the railing were so far apart that even a large man could slip through. Is that what had happened to Uncle Jim? He had died in a terrible accident, Jessie knew. But no one would ever tell her what happened. “Don’t think about that, Jessie. Not now,” she said out loud. But it was too late. Jessie’s whole body began to shake so violently that the only thing she could do was to lie down on the narrow metal balcony and press her forehead into the bumpy metal floor. The fingers of her left hand clenched the sharp edge of the metal, which seemed to hang like a thin plate over nothingness. Waves of nausea swept over her. Finally she raised her head. She could see the white polishing cloth fluttering from the railing a few feet ahead of her. Inching her way along on her stomach, she reached the cloth. Then she turned over onto her back and worked at the knot until it came loose. She tucked the cloth into her pocket and crawled back toward the ladder. Suddenly she realized she would have to 48 stand and step backward onto the rungs of the ladder to get down. Dark clouds had boiled up out of nowhere. A streak of lightning hit the waters of the lake, which had quickly turned as gray as the pointed slate roof of the house far below. 49 ...