I MARRIED A DUG DUG
by MARGARET DE LA TORRE WILKEY
The band was getting better and better and building a much larger following. People from all over Baja and the Southern California area were coming into Mike's to hear them -- but I was not one of them. Jorge truly had a hold on me and I went along with it all. I sat up all night in our room at the Palacio, with no TV, no telephone, and no way to buy or cook any food. Jorge's salary went towards the rent. Money was very tight and we didn't eat much during the week. He did bring me food at least once a day. Sometimes we shared a torta, which was only 25 cents.
On Monday nights, when they were paid, I would meet the band at 3 in the morning and we would all walk a couple of blocks to eat Chinese food. I considered it my night out. The boys would sit around the table and laugh, eat till they were sick, relax and talk about their dreams -- which were now looking like they could come true. The talk of going to Mexico City was getting more serious and Armando was planning the band's future with this in mind. I didn't know where I was involved in these dreams. My dream was to be with Jorge, have his children, and live happily ever after. That truly only happens in movies.
All the boys were cheating on their significant others. Genaro Garcia was fooling aroung with everyone he could get his hands on. And there was a new drummer, Tizoc, who also had the American girls on a string. He was from Tijuana and his family lived there, but fit into this band like he'd always been with them. It was the time of "free love" and the boys took total advantage. Jorge was now deep into drinking and hanging out with other women, and yet still not wanting to let me go.
About this time, a girl from Brownsville, Texas wandered into Jorge's life. Linda was a beautiful blonde girl who was determined to have Jorge as her own. He met her at the club every night and all I could imagine was that he was now singing those wonderful songs to her. It was all too much for me.
I started to look for Jorge after he got off work at three in the morning. I would walk the streets of Tijuana knowing he was with her, and sharing the inner life of the Dug Dug's with her. As I walked the streets at night checking hotels for Jorge and Linda, I remember being so upset and scared that I actually started dry heaving and cramping up. I knew this wasn't normal, but still I walked the streets crying, praying that I was imagining things and that this was not truly happening. When he did return to the hotel -- anywhere from six in the morning to even as late as noon -- we would have a huge fight, screaming and yelling, he in Spanish, me in English. (This is where I learned a lot of bad words in Spanish!) But the good side to it, of course, was making up.
I really don't remember Jorge's reaction to the news that I was pregnant -- maybe I blocked it out. But in the sixth week, I had a miscarriage. Neither one of us knew what to do, and I don't think Jorge knew the severity of the problem. Thank goodness for my friends! Leila, who was then married to a friend of Jorge's, took me to a doctor in the States and I lost the baby. I then went right back to Tijuana and continued with our life together.
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