Hans pedals his blue bicycle down the narrow road between nipa palm trees. Ting-ting went the bell.
Something golden flickered behind a bush of wild ferns. Hans skidded to a stop.
Hans pushed aside the ferns. A giant tree shimmered like wet gold. At its base, a tiny wooden door glowed blue.
Hans crouched down and tapped the door with his knuckle. It clicked open on its own.
Hans stepped through the door. A tunnel of floating paper lanterns glowed all around.
A small spirit hovered three inches off the ground. It clutching a frayed bracelet and pointed upward.
Hans unclasped his bell and held it up. Ting! The spirit child's eyes went wide. It grabbed Hans's hand.
They climbed up through the roots. The lanterns bobbed. Halfway up, the vine bridge snapped.
The spirit child dangled by one hand. Hans dropped to his belly and stretched out. The child slid into his grip.
Together they hauled themselves upward. Above, the green fronds of nipa leaves shimmered in the light.
Hans tumbled out onto the damp grass. The tree was just a tree again. No glow. No door.
Hans opened his hand. The frayed woven bracelet lay there, warm and real. He tied it around his bicycle bell. Ting-ting. Something rang back.
