Author's Note: This will be the last of the short stories that I will write for a while. I intend to write some longer stories in the near future. I intended this story to have a melancholy feel, which it does, but some of my bizarre humor returned near the end. Mostly because I thought of a book my friend illustrated on that I thought Dil could read to Blaer. Anyway, hope you enjoy this piece!

Eternal Rhyme

On a cool-misty afternoon in the middle of November 2015, the nearly fourteen-month-old Blaer Trixie Pickles sat on the floor in the master room of her paternal grandparents. The brown eyed and strawberry haired toddler wore a red dress and white tights, while she watched the 1973 animated version of Charlotte's Web. Next to Blaer sat Kimi Finster, who had been dating Blaer's uncle, Tommy.

The scene that the two watched from Charlotte's Web was the death of Charlotte. "I remember crying at this scene, when I was little," thought Kimi.

Blaer, who, of course, was little, did cry.

"Aw, come here, sweetheart," Kimi said, while she placed the child on her lap. Kimi tried to give Blaer her pacifier in hopes that it would calm her. It did not.

Through her tears, Blaer looked from one direction to the other direction of her grandparents' home. She seemed to be looking for something or someone.

Blaer's cries produced her paternal grandmother, Didi, and her paternal uncle, Tommy. "Aww, come here, precious baby girl," Didi said, while she took the child from Kimi.

Blaer found comfort in her grandmother's arms, and rested her head on Didi's shoulder.

Didi kissed her granddaughter and said, "It's all right, sweetie. You're missing your mother, aren't you? We all are." Didi turned to her eldest son and added, "Tommy, where's your brother?"

"Um, I don't know exactly. He left the house sometime ago, and said that he needed to 'clear his mind'…Maybe he's in the tree house? He often went there a lot, when he needed to 'clear his mind'."

"Well, go look for him. His daughter needs him."

Dil sat in the tree house wearing a 'Black and Blue' shirt that a graphic designer made for him that symbolized the tour between Black Sabbath and the Blue Öyster Cult, but the shirt also symbolized Dil's mood. The day before was Dezirae's funeral, and Dil had a difficult time getting through both his wife's visitation and funeral. Dil could not stand the image of his wife laying in the casket—particularly whenever Blaer called out to her dead mother—and yet, whenever it came time to leave his wife's casket for the burial, Dil could not leave it. Dil's childhood friends, family members, and bandmates could not make Dil leave Dezirae's casket—only the voice of his daughter, Blaer, finally made Dil leave the gravesite.

In the tree house, the cool autumn air reminded Dil of a moment that took place in the same location nearly two years ago:

"We're going to be having a camping trip soon," said Dil, while he held Dezirae's hand. "We've had it every year, but I didn't go last year, because I went on that dinner-date at your parents…I think this camping trip could be our last."

"What makes you think so?"

"We're all getting older. We can't do the same things that we did as kids. It's a simple as that—we just don't have the time anymore. Anyway, I'd like you to come with me."

"Sure—it's not going to be some 'Heavy Metal Bash', is it?"

Dil chuckled. "Around me everything is a 'Heavy Metal Bash'—despite the opposition that I know will be there."

Dezirae laughed, and kissed Dil's cheek, before she played with his long red hair.

Dil blushed.

Dezirae smiled. "You've got some pretty blue eyes. They seem to come out, when you blush."

Dil's face remained red. "You've got some pretty brown eyes. They seem to come out not matter what."

Dezirae maintained her smile, and the two shared a kiss. However, the kiss ended, when Dil and Dezirae heard the sound of teenagers outside the Pickles's home. Dezirae chuckled. "Daddy told me that the students are getting ready to have their dance before the Thanksgiving Day holiday."

Dil nodded. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

"Did you go to the dances often, Dil?"

Dil shook his head. "Not really—I went to them from the fourth grade to the seventh grade. They were fun then, but a lot of that was because my brother was still around. In eighth grade, Tommy had gone on to high school, and I was by myself. I went to the first dance we had that year, but no one wanted to dance with me. I was a metal head, and I was different. Girls didn't seem to have much interest in a guy whose hair was growing long and who wore an Iron Maiden shirt. Yet, I think regardless of me being a metal head, I don't think the girls thought much of me anyway. I was always different—the only reason that I probably had fun before was because I was with Tommy and my childhood friends. Without them, I guess that I was nothing more than a 'fly on the wall'…It's hard to have fun, when you're thought of nothing more than a 'fly on the wall'."

Dezirae smiled, and put her arm around Dil. She kissed him. "Being different is what makes you unique. Those girls have no idea what they missed out on, my sweet little 'Heavy Metal King David'."

Dil blushed, and Dezirae maintained her close hold on him.

"Dil," Tommy said, while he climbed the ladder into the tree house.

The sound of his brother ended Dil's recollections of the past. As Tommy entered the tree house, Dil turned to him and said, "Yeah?"

"Blaer's crying—Mom says that she needs you."

Dil sighed, and pounded his right fist into his left palm. "She doesn't need me. She needs her mother."

Tommy turned to the floor of the tree house. He did not know what to say to his brother.

"Wasn't Blaer watching Charlotte's Web?"

"She was, and I guess still is."

"Is she watching the animated version or the 2006 version?"

"The animated version."

Dil turned to the gray sky, and he began to sing. "'How very special are we, for just a moment to be part of life's eternal rhyme?' 'One too many wasted sunsets. One too many for the road. And after dark, the door is always open. Hoping someone else will show.'"

Tommy was stunned.

But Dil continued to sing. "'But I've lost my way, she had rainbow eyes.' 'Yesterday, in my mind it's still alive. Yesterday, when we were husband and wife. Yesterday, no. Yesterday…'" Dil gritted his teeth. He clenched his first and punched the wall. "Fuck!"

Tommy gasped. Dil's punch shook the tree house. "Dil, calm down! Don't wreck the place!"

Dil fell to the floor. "She's gone, Tommy. The love of my life is gone."

Tommy sat next to his brother. "I know she is, Dil."

Dil started to cry. "What am I going to do, Tommy? I don't know how to raise Blaer by myself. I don't know how to comfort her, when she starts crying for her mom. I'm horrible at changing diapers. I'm horrible at anything that involves raising a child."

Tommy placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "You don't need to know how to do everything. Do you think Mom and Dad knew how to do everything, when we came along?"

"They had each other."

"You have us. All of us. Mom and Dad will help you out. We all will. Just like we helped out Angelica, when she found out that she was pregnant."

"It was easier for Angelica."

"What makes you think so?"

"Women just know how to be better parents."

"If that's true, why are there so many bad moms?"

Dil sighed; he did not know how to respond to Tommy's question.

Tommy smiled. "Look, Dil, I don't know all the right words to say to you, but I'm trying to help you. All of us are trying to help you, but the person that you need to try and help right now is your daughter. Why don't you go inside and see Blaer?"

Dil sighed, before he gave a nod. "Yeah, let me go and see her."

"She seems to be doing all right now," Stu said, while his granddaughter rested her head on his shoulder.

"Yeah," began Didi. "I think that she was just missing her mom."

"Do you think she understands?"

"I don't know. I've often wondered, if Chuckie understood what happened to Melinda, after she passed away?"

"He was so little then. But now that I think of it, Blaer's about the same age Chuckie was then."

"I think you're right."

"I remember telling Chaz that we would help him out in anyway possible with Chuckie, after Melinda passed away."

"Right, I remember that. I want to make sure that Dil knows…"

Didi's statement was cut short by her two sons returning to their childhood home.

"Dil!" said Didi.

Dil smiled. "Hi, Mom; hi, Dad; care if I hold my daughter?"

"Oh, of course," replied Stu. Stu gave Blaer a kiss on the cheek, before he handed Blaer to her father.

"Hey there, my little strawberry haired girl!" Dil said, before he kissed Blaer's forehead.

"Daddy," whispered a tired Blaer, while she rested her head on Dil's shoulder.

Dil smiled. "Hey, baby."

Blaer slowly lifted her head, and looked over her father's shoulder. Blaer noticed her grandparents and uncle, but one person was absent. "Mommy?"

Didi, Stu, and Tommy gasped.

Dil, however, remained calm. "Mommy's with the angels, sweetie."

"An-gels?"

Dil nodded. "Uhhu, she's gone to sing with the angels and Dio up in the sky." Dil was uncertain, if Blaer understood his message, but he did not want Blaer to ponder on it for too long. "Would you like me to read to you, Blaer?"

The toddler nodded.

Dil secured a book from Blaer's diaper bag, and carried her to her grandfather's recliner. "All right then, Blaer, let's read about the deformed bird and butterfly."

"'Deformed bird and butterfly'?" said Tommy. "It looks to me like the title of that book says Bird and Butterfly."

"Well, yeah, but look at the pictures." Dil showed Tommy some of the artwork in the book. "The bird's chasing this butterfly through mountains, volcanoes, and whatnot, and still can't catch it. In the end, the butterfly sits on the bird's head. Therefore, the bird must not be all that intelligent."

Tommy chuckled. "That or maybe the butterfly is extremely intelligent and brave—kind of like Tweety and Speedy versus Sylvester."

Dil paused. "Fair enough. Well, I think Blaer likes the pictures. I have to admit that they're quite good. I'd like to meet the artist. I wonder if she'd draw me an image of Dio ruling over things from the Silver Mountain?"

Tommy smirked. "You have to find some way to bring Dio into this conversation, don't you?"

Dil grinned. "Well, yeah. He's Dio, and he's cool."

"Daddy!" exclaimed Blaer, while she pounded on the book.

Tommy laughed. "I think Blaer is more interested in you reading that book to her, than you talking about Dio."

Dil smiled. "Yeah, probably." Dil turned to Blaer and added, "All right, my little strawberry haired girl, let's get started."