The Surfers, Emile Duncan

Takes place shortly after Discovering Emile. Jerry Schaefer introduces the Surfers to Emile Duncan, getting some mixed reactions... (Finished 1/15/26)

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The vast sky was clear on the afternoon that Josephine Lewis pulled into the Coastal Inn, a cheap little cookie-cutter hotel a few miles out of L.A. Upon shutting off the noisy ignition and stepping outside, she was blasted by a wave of heat. The sky was clear and summer was in full swing.

"I'll already be in the lobby to meet you," were their manager's somewhat cryptic instructions over the payphone, "But don't go inside until you're all there."

Already, Jo could see Ed pacing under the balcony and Shannon leaning against the tan bricks beside the double doors. She picked up her pace, hoping to free them from suspicion.

"How's it go, Jo?" Ed called out his usual greeting, a smile pinching his spotted face, "Some show last night, huh?"

"Oh yeah! You and Obie were out of sight with the rhythm!" She replied, a little grateful for the distraction. Their performance at the Carneau Club had been another smash, but at the time they had barely talked about it. Their high was interrupted when, shortly afterward, their manager read yet another rejection letter from a big record label- one they had actually been hopeful about. And their reasoning? "In forgoing a solid lead singer, the group lacks the character needed to stand out among the dozens of other surf acts."

Those words, along with Doc's furious reaction, returned to Jo's mind again and her smile fell. Shannon then brought up the inevitable topic.

"Let's just hope this is some lead singer, then, huh?"

"Yeah..." She murmured, "He would have to be, if Jerry picked him up from a gas station of all places."

Ed chuckled, "Let's see how the press reacts to that origin story!"

Finally the other 2/5ths of the band approached from opposite ends of the parking lot. Obie looked neutral while Doc, as expected, seemed less than thrilled, his hands in the pockets of his brown corduroys. But the small talk with the other two had lifted Jo's spirits just enough for her to ignore it. Shannon stepped away from the wall and gave the group a nod.

"Nothin' to lose. Let's go."

They floated slowly through the double doors, silent with anticipation. She knew the levels of optimism definitely varied between them, but the reveal was all that mattered. The lobby of the hotel was small and basic; tan laminate walls, a sparsely-leafed plant or two, and signs reading elevator, stairs, restrooms, and pool. It didn't take long to spot Jerry Schaefer in a plain blue button-up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. Standing anxiously in the dining area, he appeared to be alone. Except...

A shock of long brown hair above one of the booths. Someone small sitting close to Jerry and facing away from the group. Was the new singer a girl, too? Jo wouldn't mind feeling a little less lonely, come to think of it. Jerry spotted them, leaned to whisper something to the stranger, and rushed over to meet the five.

"Thank God you're all here," He puffed, "I just had the longest car ride of my life. Had to get the piece of junk zapped in Sacramento. A good new van for the whole group, that's our next investment."

Shannon pointed towards the stranger, "Jerry, is that...?"

"Oh, the new singer, right..." Their manager sucked in a breath. Jo and Ed exchanged looks. "He's a bit- how I put this... Young. Country-ish. Lower class. But I've heard him sing half of the way here and I have no regrets. I don't think you will, either. Just try to be patient with him, okay?"

"Alllright..." Obie muttered. Doc let out a small huff. Jo was silent, too busy trying to picture the face of their group. A man, then. A rough and tough cowboy, maybe? Someone like that singing surf music might not be all that bad. She trusted their manager's opinions on vocalists, and the new singer might even be handsome. By then she was just picturing Doc in chaps and a ranch hat. Yet what they finally saw when Jerry led them over was anything but.

At the sound of their footsteps, the overgrown tangle whipped around. A big pair of droopy brown eyes looked up at them warily, broken up by a boyish bump nose. As Jo's eyes lowered to his clothes, she quickly realized that this wasn't the lead man in a spaghetti western. This was reality. A dirty oversized plaid shirt, torn jeans, and shoes so tattered that his pale toes were poking out.

"Shannon and the Surfers, Emile Duncan," Jerry finally broke the silence with a hand motion towards their singer who almost tripped as he stood up, "Emile Duncan, Shannon and the Surfers."

Their titular guitarist went first, offering a hand and a smile to Emile, "Hey. Shannon Montezuma, pleased to meet you."

Jo saw Jerry lean forward and thought she heard "Shake it!" before Emile finally grabbed Shannon's hand. "Hi," He replied in a soft, high voice, "I'm Emile."

His response was the same when Ed introduced himself, and Obie, and then it was Jo's turn. As she walked forward, she was immediately struck by the smell of body odor. Noticing the greasiness of Emile's hair now that she could see it up close, she had no doubt of the smell's source. But she tried her best to ignore it as she smiled and lifted a hand. Surprisingly, he was a few inches taller than her and it was hard to tell what age he was. 16? 17?

"Hi, I'm Josephine Lewis, or just Jo," Her words came out a little nasally, and when he grabbed her hand and smiled, she couldn't help but notice that he hesitated a little more than with the others. Before she could think more on it or even hear Emile's response, Doc's grumble suddenly broke the friendly air.

"Alright, Jerry. Very funny. Bring the real singer out, I know he's here somewhere."

"This is the real singer," Jerry said, pointing at Emile as he pulled away from Jo.

"Uhuh, and where did he learn to sing? What group? Chester and the Hillbillies? We're making a surf band here."

Although he had a point, Jo's mouth gaped at his bluntness, "Doc, I wouldn't..."

"And I'm doing most of the work, so before making judgements, could you just hear him first?" Jerry shot back before reaching a hand to Emile's other shoulder and softening his voice, "Emile, sing a little tune for the group. Any tune. Quick."

All eyes were on the country boy. Jo frowned as she watched his eyes dart from one member to the other, his breathing starting to quicken. Did they have to do this now? Jerry had a band to manage, but it didn't feel right.

"I-I don't which one to sing... I-I'm sorry..." His country drawl was suddenly evident as he stampered, and tears even seemed to be welling in his sad eyes. But Jerry jumped up and nudged him.

"Neil Sedaka! You look like Neil Sedaka, right?"

Emile's mouth was ajar. "Neil said what?"

Singing softly, Ed stepped forward, "Don't take your..."

And within a blink, Emile perked up and leaped right into "Breaking Up Is Hard To Do." Nobody would've made a connection to the voice and the appearance. Even his thick accent had vanished and gone. It was almost as if Neil Sedaka was in the hotel lobby right then, and Jo caught the others looking around in surprise before landing their eyes back on Emile. Doc's eyes merely widened a smidge.

He's hitting all the right notes without even a lyrics sheet in front of him, Jo thought, where did he learn that? Halfway through the bridge, Jerry muttered an "Okay, Emile. Shh," and signaled for him to stop. A family wrapped in towels walking past the pool sign gave them funny looks. Only when they were gone did Shannon finally break the silence with a whistle.

"You were right, Jerry," Obie said, "Who would've thunk it?"

"I might just have to pass the crown," joked Shannon.

But Doc rolled his eyes, unimpressed. "Okay, he's a tenor. So what? We don't need another singer."

Jerry scoffed, stepping dangerously close to Doc. "The record companies would beg to differ."

"Now guys, come on," Shannon broke in, raising both of his hands, "Why don't we sort this out democratically?"

"I vote for President Duncan," Ed stated in mock officiality from the edge of the group.

"It's the only choice we have, Doc," grumbled Obie.

But the two New Yorkers didn't seem to hear them. Doc took a few slow steps forward himself, his forehead nearly touching Jerry's as he looked down. His response came out in a growl, "Well then maybe you just need to look harder for a record company that values the correct things in a band. Image? Chemistry?"

Jo could easily picture a line of smoke rising between them, threatening to burst into flame any minute. Her eyes darted nervously to the other men- Obie looking just as frustrated, Shannon grimacing, Ed seeming almost excited, and poor Emile looking the worst of them all. He was shrinking closer and closer to the floor unnoticed, pulling tightly at the ends of his hair. Somebody had to say something...

Finally, she stepped between them, projecting her voice well to make up for her short stature.

"DOC, JERRY, KNOCK IT OFF! Geez..." It was unlike her to get so worked up, and she quickly looked around to make sure no strangers had noticed. Only the band's eyes were on her, including- fortunately- Doc and Jerry as they pulled apart.

"For men in their 20s, you sure are acting like children," Jo said bluntly, trying to hide how silly she felt as she placed her hands on her hips, "What kind of impression are we making of this band towards all the people in this hotel? To Emile, potential member or not?"

The dining hall was silent for a moment, Doc and Jerry awkwardly lowering their eyes in mutual guilt. Emile snatched the opportunity to speak, his voice quiet but distinct enough to attract everyone's attention as he slowly straightened himself.

"I'm sorry for all this. I am..." His gaze lingered on Jo before dropping to his broken shoes, his fingers tugging at his jeans, "I-If y'all want me to leave, I will..."

"Now wait a minute, Emile," Jerry said, raising a hand to stop him and then looking over the others with a conflicted hum, "Guys, how about we- well... How about we just discuss this outside, in the parking lot? I can leave Emile in my car until we reach a decision that pleases everybody."

Seems to me that neither decision will... Jo thought, biting her lip nervously as she turned towards Doc to see his reaction. Before he could respond, though, the others were already nodding in strong agreement.

~~~

"Three days," Obie said, standing in the patchy grass behind the line of cars, "That should be enough time for us to think on it, right?"

Doc huffed and crossed his arms, turning his body the other way and raising his head to the cloudless sky. Jo had a feeling she would need to mediate again. Without Doc's playing and songwriting, the group would be like a dog with three legs. She also had to admit that even in his most immature moments, the guitarist still made her heart flutter...

"Doc, it'll just be temporary. You're right that we shouldn't jump in on this too quick. We may still get a deal with just the five of us."

Back inside the hotel, one of them may have still pointed out the unlikelihood of that statement. But after a few minutes of calmer conversation, they were each hot and sweaty, having to roll up their sleeves and fan their faces occasionally. The anxiety to get back to L.A. and continue working was thick as the heat in the air. And so, Shannon asked the logical next question.

"Where will we keep him in the meantime, then? Jerry?"

Their manager shook his head, "No can do. My apartment's one bedroom."

"He can stay in mine," Jo blurted out to which the others looked at her in surprise, "I mean... It has an extra bedroom that I don't use, not even for storage. Ed can confirm."

"So that settles it," Jerry said quickly, bringing his hands together in a satisfied clap, "On Thursday we'll meet at the cafe across from the studio around noon. Hopefully some nerves will be a little cooler by then."

He narrowed his eyes towards Doc but he still wasn't looking at any of them. So, with a sigh, Jerry made his way towards his car with a mumbled, "I'll go get Emile. Come on, Jo."

Before leaving, she took one last glance towards Doc, hoping that he'd meet her gaze for just a moment, almost expecting a smile of gratitude. But all she was met with was the back of his frizzy orange hair.

He won't be grumpy for long, she thought to herself, letting out a small giggle of affection as soon as she was out of earshot. Soon he might be glad for the decision she helped them reach. Whether or not Emile stayed in, they were still a band that could overcome these difficulties, and that's what mattered.

Then she thought back to Emile and the things that Jerry had said about him. Young. Lower-class. His skills seemed to be built up by his sheer love for the music. Who could argue that someone like that didn't deserve a lucky break? Giving him a place to stay was the least that any of them could do. But she had to also admit that his scared eyes and lopsided smile awakened some sort of deep instinct in her. Something she couldn't quite explain...

Looking up from the concrete, she could make out his small silhouette in the window of Jerry's car. Their manager had left the radio on, and Emile was leaning close to the speakers as if they were playing an alert for a nuclear war. What went on in his head? Was he calculating the new song right now, carefully storing all the lyrics and melodies away somewhere? Maybe she could learn a thing or two from him over the next three days, if nothing else. But her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Jerry placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Jo, thanks for helping out back there. As men, we tend to... lose our cool a little sooner," He explained a little awkwardly, "We need a woman in the group, you know?"

Her eyes wandered to the ground as he spoke, having heard similar spiels before. She didn't really think gender had anything to do with it. She was just being herself back in the hotel lobby. But all she could articulate was a small "I guess..." which seemed to satisfy Jerry enough.

"Perfect. Well... Emile's pretty easy to please, I think. But if you have any problems with him, just give me a call."

And with that he pulled away, walked slowly up to the passenger side of his car, and opened the door.