Author's Note: This short story is a little longer than my two previous ones, but it is one that has a 'melancholy feel' to it. Once again, the focus is on Dil.

A Golden Voice is Silent

Late October 2009: The trees were losing their leaves in the crisp Autumn air of Northern California. On a particular day in late October, nineteen-year-old Dylan Pickles arrived home, his parents' home, at seven in the evening.

"How's it going, Dil?" asked his father, Stu.

"Tired," replied Dil, as he reclined on the couch. "I'm not liking this new job that I'm in. They work you like a slave. I mean, I'm happy in a sense that I don't have to be around all the chemicals in a kitchen, but I miss a lot of the music that Rod used to play. They have it on some Classic Rock sirus channel, which in itself is fine, but I'm getting bored with a number of the bands that I hear." Dil had taken a job in a warehouse that stocks and ships items to some of the various Bass Pro Shops around the United States.

Stu smiled. "You can't have it your way, unless you're the person in charge. By the way, how's school?"

Besides working in a warehouse, Dil had taken some courses at the local community college. "So far, so good," responded Dil. "I met a kid named Andrew in my Philosophy class. He's a Heavy Metal fan, and he plays guitar."

"That's nice," said Stu.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"You know how I originally wanted to go into Biology?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, after taking courses in Religion and Philosophy, I want to switch."

"Switch to what?"

"Courses in Religion and Philosophy, I really like that stuff."

Stu chuckled. "What are you going to do with that stuff?"

"…I don't know…Maybe teach one day. That's what Chuckie seems to be getting ready to do with his Master's in History."

Stu laughed. "Always the odd one," he thought. But verbally, Stu said, "Well, whatever you do make sure that you're the best at it."

Dil smiled. "Thanks, Dad."

"You're welcome. So what else is on your mind?"

"I got off work for the first Saturday and Sunday in November. I'm going to fly out to LA."

"Fly out to LA? I take it that you're going to see Tommy?"

"Well, yes and no."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Tommy's going to meet me at the airport, and then we're going to Agua Dulce. After that, Tommy will drive me back to the airport, and I'll fly back home later that day."

"Agua Dulce is a nice place, but why are you wanting to go out there?"

"Ronnie James Dio is helping a charity foundation for dogs—something called the Brittany Foundation—and I want to get his autograph."

Stu smiled. "The trip'll be taking a little bit out of your fund."

Dil returned the smile—he had been saving money in order to get his own apartment. "It won't hurt that much."

Stu maintained his smile. "Well, all right then."

Saturday, November 07 was a beautiful day in Los Angeles. Dil's airplane arrived at the airport at one o'clock that afternoon. Dil's brother, Tommy, was there to greet him.

"Hey, Dil!"

"Hey, Tommy!"

"Good flight, I hope?"

Dil nodded. "Yeah, just a quick shot from Missouri, CA to LA."

Tommy chuckled. "So, are you ready to head out? It'll take us about an hour to get to Agua Dulce."

Dil tossed his long red hair—a portion of which landed over his shoulders and on his DIO Master of the Moon tour shirt. "Yeah, sure."

On the drive from Los Angeles to Agua Dulce, Tommy and Dil engaged in 'small talk'. "So are you enjoying your first semester of college?" asked Tommy.

"It's not too bad," responded Dil. "But I'm thinking about changing my major."

"To what?"

"To either Religious Studies or Philosophy—I've taken a couple courses in that stuff, and I really like it."

"Can you make any money with that?"

Dil chuckled. "Sure I can. I can be like Chuckie and become a college professor."

Tommy laughed.

"What about you and school?" asked Dil.

"I'm hoping to move out of the dorms after this semester."

"They don't let you take any booze into the dorms, do they?"

Tommy smirked. "Not a bit."

"Do you ever have any problems with it, since you're now of age?"

"Not really—if you come back to your dorm, just make sure that you make it to your home dorm in time, and you're okay; the dorm monitor won't care."

"But you want your own place?"

Tommy nodded. "Yeah, it'll be nice to have my own apartment, where I can invite friends over for drinks or whatnot."

"Think you'll have any problems getting one?"

Tommy shook his head. "No, I have some money left over from my scholarship."

Dil nodded. "I'm really hoping to get my own place sometime after Christmas."

"It's great personal freedom," said Tommy.

"How's the internship with Martin Costomiris?"

"Great!" replied Tommy. "He's a really cool guy to work for. Now I only hope that my work under him can help me get my foot in the door at one of the studios in Hollywood."

Dil nodded, but then he decided to change the subject. "By the way, on why we're going to Agua Dulce, don't you want to meet Ronnie James Dio—possibly get his autograph or something?"

Tommy shook his head. "No, Dil, you're the Dio fan, not me. But I will ask you, what are you going to have him sign?"

"This," responded Dil, while he showed Tommy his Long Live Rock 'n' Roll CD.

"Why did you choose that CD?"

"I saw an interview with Dio where he talked about the recording of this album and the history behind it. There was one interesting thing that he mentioned."

"And what was that?"

"Apparently Ritchie Blackmore, the guitar player, was real big into having séances, and apparently at one of them, they called up this spirit named Baal, who is spelled just like the Canaanite god of the Hebrew Bible, and apparently Baal wrecked havoc for the members of the band."

Tommy's eyes widened. "Interesting."

Dil nodded. "Yeah, you know how on most albums the musicians always thank so and so?"

Tommy returned the nod. "Yeah?"

"Well, this CD has that, but it also has a section that says, 'No thanks to Baal.'"

Tommy chuckled.

"Sure you don't want to see him?"

Once again, Tommy shook his head. "No, Dil, like I said earlier, you're the Dio fan, not me. I'll drop you off at the area where Dio is, and then I'll pick you up later."

"What will you be doing?"

"I'll be observing the area around Agua Dulce. A number of movies were shot there."

"Hey! Maybe you could make a movie about what the band experienced with this character Baal?"

Tommy grinned. "When you're done, call me."

The time was 2:30 in the afternoon. Dil had been waiting twenty minutes. The booth that Dio would occupy was empty. "I hope something didn't happen where Dio had to back out," thought Dil. But as Dil completed his thought, a black SUV arrived. Stepping out of the SUV was a short man with long hair who wore a gray shirt and black slacks. The man was the legendary Heavy Metal singer, Ronnie James Dio.

"Dio!" shouted Dil, while he gave the headbanger gesture.

Dio turned to Dil. He smiled, and returned the gesture.

Thirty minutes later, Dil was next up at the booth where Dio had been signing autographs, having his photograph taken, and shaking hands.

"Well, hey there, mate," Dio said with a smile. "That's a cool shirt that you're wearing."

Dil blushed. "Thanks, I got this shirt, when I saw you in LA. It was my first concert, and it changed my life forever."

Dio maintained his smile. "Ah, the concert before Halloween, I think that I might have seen you in the crowd."

Dil's face became a little redder. "Thanks. I used to wear this shirt to school a number of times. Teachers didn't like the back of it, but I didn't care."

Dio laughed. "Well, you 'kick ass', my friend. So, what's your name, and what do you have for me?"

Dio's question seemed to bring Dil out of a trance. "Oh, the name's Dil, and I have this for you to sign." Dil presented Dio with his Long Live Rock 'n' Roll CD.

Dio took the CD, and opened it. "Do you want me to sign directly on the CD or on the dust jacket?"

"The dust jacket."

Dio nodded. "How do you spell your name? Is it 'D-i-l' or 'D-y-l'?"

"It's 'D-i-l'—short for Dylan."

Again, Dio nodded. "All right, sounds good, Dylan." As Dio signed the dust jacket, he said, "It doesn't look like you've got Ritchie's autograph here."

Dil laughed. "No, or Baal's either."

Dio smirked. "Well, you certainly don't want Baal's." Dio handed the CD back to Dil, but as he did so, he gritted his teeth, and put his hand on his stomach. Dio appeared to be in pain.

"Are you all right, Dio?"

Dio's face returned to normal, and he smiled. "Yeah, sorry about that. I've had some indigestion problems lately. Sorry that you had to see one of them."

Dil returned the smile. "Well, I hope that you get to feeling better, Dio. Thanks for the autograph."

Dio maintained his smile. "You're welcome, Dil. Thanks for coming out and helping a good cause."

Like other fans in the world of Hard Rock and Heavy Metal music, Dil often turned to Blabbermouth, which has been dubbed the 'CNN of Hard Rock and Heavy Metal', for his information. Shortly after Dil saw Dio at the charity function, he read an article on Blabbermouth that Dio's European tour had been cancelled, because Ronnie James Dio had fallen ill. However, the article did not disclose what type of 'illness' Dio suffered from. "I wonder what's wrong with Dio?" thought Dil.

Shortly after Thanksgiving, Dil received an answer to that question. Dio had been diagnosed with stomach cancer, but the disease had been caught in its early stages. "I guess that explains why Dio looked like he had that pain in his stomach," thought Dil.

On a Black Sabbath fan-page, an email address had been created for fans, who wanted to email the Heavy Metal legend. Dil took advantage of the opportunity:

Hey, Ronnie,

This is Dil. We met not too long ago at the Brittany Foundation charity event. You signed my Long Live Rock 'n' Roll album. Your music has always been able to get me through some tough times, and I'm wanting to wish you a swift and quick kill of that 'dragon'.

We Rock, Ronnie!

Dil Pickles

The seasons come and go. Christmas gives way to New Year's, and New Year's gives way to Easter. On the first Friday after Easter, in April 2010, Dil Pickles was back in Los Angeles. In this case, Dil was at Club Nokia to see the 2010 Golden Gods Awards.

Around the club, fans had the opportunity to be 'within arms length' of their favorite musicians, and as chance would have it, Dil was within arms length of Ronnie James Dio. Dio was dressed in black, and he had just won the Golden God Award for 'Best Heavy Metal Vocalist'.

"Hi, Dio, how are you?" said Dil.

Dio turned and smiled. "Hi, Dil, nice to see you again."

Dil was stunned. "You remember my name?"

Dio chuckled. "You stood out to me. Plus that email helped me remember. Thank you for that. I haven't slayed the dragon yet, but I'll sever its head not too long from now."

Dil smiled. "You're welcome, and congratulations on winning the award for Best Heavy Metal Vocalist."

Dio returned the smile. "Thanks, so what's new with you?"

"Well, I moved into an apartment at the beginning of the year. My friend, who's a guitar player, he happened to meet a bass player, so we've been playing and composing a bit. My cousin found out that she's pregnant. You know, life," Dil added with a smile.

Dio maintained his smile. "Yeah, life." Dio turned briefly to his surroundings in Club Nokia. Apparently others were calling for his presence. "I should go, Dil, but you keep it up!"

Again, Dil smiled. "Thanks, Ronnie."

As Dio began to walk away, he turned back to Dil. "Who knows, maybe you'll be touring with me someday?"

Dil blushed. "Thanks, Ronnie."

Once again, Dio started to walk away, but once again, he turned back to Dil. "And, Dil?"

"Yes, Dio?"

Dio smiled. "Thanks for being a fan."

Dil returned the smile. "You're welcome, Ronnie." Dil watched Dio walk away, but as he did so, a strange feeling came over him. Dil could not describe it. "The way Ronnie spoke to me," he thought. "It just seemed odd."

On the afternoon of May 15, 2010, Dil entered Stick It In Your Ear, the local CD and vinyl record shop. "Dil!" exclaimed Wes, the owner.

Dil smiled. "Hey, Wes."

"Dil, I've got something just for you. Something that'll get you rocking!"

"What's that?"

Wes opened up the glass case that protected the CDs, and put a particular CD on the counter. "What do you think?"

Dil observed the CD: Black Sabbath: Live in Boston, 1992. Obviously, it was a bootleg album. "Pretty cool, man."

"Twenty bucks and it's yours, man."

Dil secured his wallet and removed a twenty dollar bill. "Sold!"

As Wes was registering the sale, Dil added, "You know, I saw Ronnie at the Golden Gods Awards in LA."

"I saw pictures of that event. I thought that Dio looked great."

"So did I, but I felt something odd, when I was there."

"What was that?"

"Well…Dio almost came across with this attitude that he was 'thanking everybody', because he might not see them again."

Wes handed Dil his receipt and said, "Let's hope that's not the case."

"For sure," added Dil, while he took the receipt.

"This bit with Dio has an odd effect on me."

"What do you mean?"

Wes sighed. "I'm older than you are, Dil. I saw Dio in my late teens with Black Sabbath as part of the 'Black and Blue' tour with Blue Oyster Cult. You had yet to be born. It just seems like many of the rock stars I grew up watching, well, they're not getting any younger."

Dil nodded. "True, but as long as they can still produce good music, who cares about their age?"

Wes chuckled. "Well, that's true, Dil. There's just one problem."

"What's that?"

"Producing good music, that's something they can control. Time, however, that's something that they can't control."

The following day was a 'bright-sunny day'. The time was two o'clock in the afternoon. Dil was listening to the Black Sabbath bootleg album that he had purchased the previous day. "'Your sirens scream! You're living in a time machine,'" sang Dil.

As Black Sabbath's 'Time Machine' played, Dil received a text message on his cellphone. The text message was from his brother.

Tommy: Dil, I'm sorry.

Dil was confused.

Dil: Sorry for what?

Tommy: About Ronnie James Dio.

Dil feared this message.

Dil: What do you mean, Tommy?

Tommy: Go online. You'll see very quickly.

Dil turned to the internet—particularly to Blabbermouth. And there, Dil saw the headline: 'Legendary Heavy Metal Vocalist Ronnie James Dio Dies'. Dil gasped; he could not believe it.

Tommy: Are you all right, Dil?

Dil ceased playing the Black Sabbath album, and sat on his couch.

Dil: Yeah, T, I'm fine—just a little shocked.

Tommy: Call me, if you need me, little brother.

Dil did not need Tommy; he needed music. Dio's music had gotten Dil through some tough times, and now Dio was gone. "A golden voice is silent," thought Dil. "Well, in memory of Dio, I'm going to play this song." Dil removed the Black Sabbath album from his CD player. In its place, Dil inserted the Rainbow album titled Ritchie Blackmore's Rainbow. With the album in place, Dil turned to the sixth track on the album: 'The Temple of the King'.

While 'The Temple of the King' played, Dil stretched himself horizontally on his couch. He stared at the ceiling and thought, "He really was saying 'goodbye' to us." Dil sighed. "Enjoy the temple, Ronnie." Yet as the song continued, Dil could not help but cry.