You know, you and me, we got a lot in common,” Dolores said in the direction of the heron’s
nest. “Say, are you even in there? Can’t see you.” A small tuft of yellow feathers slowly rose into
view. “Oh, now I see you there,” Dolores said. “Out late last night, huh? I used to be like that, too.”
The small head slowly sank back out of sight. “So what I was saying,” Dolores continued, “was that
we have a lot in common. For one thing, I don’t believe you have the slightest idea what you’re doing.
You shoulda had them babies earlier in the year, not now. Hmmm, maybe it’s a second clutch of eggs.
Or maybe you’re just out of kilter with everyone else. “But I have to tell you, girl,” Dolores added. “I
ain’t seen no man around your nest. Where’d he go? Saw him here for the first few days, when y’all
were building it, but he’s gone scarce on you now. Ha! What did I tell you! I never had no luck with
men, neither! Ha! “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve decided to call you Peggy Sue. You know why?
Because it reminds me of a song my son used to sing when he’d come home from school. Yes, that
son. Robbie-Lee. The one who up and left me. Went to New York City and all. Well, when he was a
teenager there was this song, and it was sung by a fella named Buddy Holly. Poor Buddy Holly got
hisself killed in a plane crash. Anyway, he had this song called ‘Peggy Sue,’ and my son loved to sing
it. I’d hear him coming down the path singing that song. It was kind of a silly song but awful fun to
sing. Anyway, that right there is the best memory of my life. The one I turn to when I’m feeling bad.
Robbie-Lee, singing that song. Always made me laugh. “I’ll tell you what, if you’d told me twenty
years ago that I’d be sitting here talking to a night heron, I wouldn’t have believed you. No sir. I only
wish you could talk back. I’d be mighty curious to hear what you had to say.” Peggy Sue
stretched her wings either by coincidence or in response. “You sure put up with a lot from me.”
Dolores laughed. “Crazy old woman, worn out by the world, talking to a bird. Ain’t that something.
And I’d swear on a stack of Bibles that you are listening to me. “I hate to be the one to tell you this,
but we have something else in common besides men who love us and leave us,” Dolores said. “You
and me, we be average. That’s right, average. I ain’t nothin’ special and neither are you. I was nice
lookin’ in my day but never spectacular. Girl, if you don’t mind me saying so, you got the same
problem. You’re not one of them special birds, like a spoonbill. Nope, ain’t nobody gonna come down
here from the Audubon Society and try to take yer picture. Mine, neither. Fact is, we’re just average
folk in a world that don’t care none for average. This world only cares about special. But you just go
on sittin’ on your eggs. Do your job. I surely hope things work out better for you than they has for
me.”