The Senogon Society

THE SENOGON SOCIETY

by

Charles Roig

Chapter 1

Chicago High Rise Apartment

"What was that?" she screamed as she jumped up.

It’s thunder, Mike mumbled, half asleep. Come on back to bed.

She knew that she tended to exaggerate things in her mind in the middle of the night, like the irritating pain she had during the day that became a fatal disease at three-thirty am. But, this sound seemed disturbing. Something in her subconscious told her that it was more than a usual city occurrence. Far away, she could hear the sound of an explosion with an eerie growling. Gaining in volume, it seemed to be coming toward her. In her awkward nighttime mentality, she could swear she heard human cries accompanied by a persistent vibration.

After a while, however, the Hell on earth went away, as did her concern, but not her wakefulness.

Coming out of his slumber, Michael noticed his wife standing at the wall of glass in their bedroom. At night, it commanded a dramatic view of a black Lake Michigan and the lights of the city in the foreground.

What are you doing up? he inquired incoherently. It’s two o’clock in the morning.

I always do this, his wife answered. It’s like a ritual.

Looking at her against the glass, Michael was able to see her angelic nude body silhouetting against the cityscape.

With all the nightvision binoculars and telescopes out there, he observed, there are probably a thousand people seeing you right now.

Why don’t you join me? she asked. The lake is so beautiful.

It’s pitch black! Mike replied. "I won’t see a blasted thing, but everybody out there will be able to see me in the buff! Let’s get back to sleep."

In a minute, Marlene responded. "I just love looking at the water. Even though you can barely see it, I can sense the waves, the molecules, the life that it contains--"

Just then, a loud sound with an unknown origin emanated from beyond the room. It almost sounded as if it were accompanied by a scream.

Oh my god, Mike, check that out! Marlene exclaimed.

Grabbing his robe, Michael sped into the hall, closed the bedroom door, and turned on the lights. Quickly opening the door in the girls’ room, he flipped the switch and gave a look under the beds and in the closet. Leaving even before waking up his daughters, one four years old, the other eighteen months, he glanced into the bathroom before checking the last space; the living-dining-kitchen. He found only a neatly kept abode. Peeking through the tiny fish-eye lens in the front door that gave a full view of the hallway, he found nothing.

The only thing I can think of is that somebody must have had an argument or terrible fight, Mike said, but I’ll be darned if I can figure out who that would be.

They both held themselves motionless, trying to hear anything else. Soon afterward, they could hear two people, probably neighbors, speaking loudly, jingling keys, and opening the door to an apartment down the hall. Then, a slam, and silence.

I guess all we can do is go back to bed, Marlene said, still standing naked at the window.

Climbing back under the covers, the couple lied together facing the wall of glass. They took in the aura of the cityscape and the water of the lake as Michael pressed against Marlene’s backside, his right hand on her breast, and they both returned to sleep.

There was some commotion going on last night, eh? Dave Keith, the condominium’s handsome building manager, observed. "I’ve heard some strange noises in this building, usually some couple either fighting or fooling around, but never accompanied by an explosive sound like that one!"

In the lobby of a condominium in a well-to-do area of Chicago along the lake, the two ran into each other quite often. Becoming good friends, Michael and Dave spent a lot of time at each of their homes playing guitar and recording songs that Dave wrote. A budding genius, Dave Keith inherited the position of Building Manager from his father. Foregoing the usual college for the need to take over his dad’s trade, Dave nonetheless was quite adept at the arts, mathematics, every aspect of a high-rise building and almost every subject of conversation.

Astonished at the fact that someone three floors down was able to hear the same thing that he did, Michael pressed on with more questions.

It wouldn’t be a gunshot or anything like that--

Oh no! Dave laughed. I know what a gunshot sounds like. No, this was more like a small contained nuclear blast or something. Obviously smaller in scale, but with the same nuances in a repetitious fusion of matter--

But was there any damage or anything?" Mike interrupted.

Trust me, Dave answered. If there was any wreckage in this building I’d be the first one to know about it! I had to get up at two-thirty in the morning and check the whole building out. But there is one thing puzzling: Have you noticed that this lobby is not as busy as it was the same time last month? I know a lot of people have been going on vacation, but it seems like there are actually less people in this building. There’s less garbage, less phone calls for maintenance, and even the electrical service has decreased.

It did seem like it’s been a little quieter in the halls on my floor, Michael admitted. That’s probably why that loud noise really took us by surprise last night.

Oh, there was more than one! Dave Keith remarked. The first one almost sounded like it had a growling overtone. It was not a short, percussive blast . . . more like a rumble. But the second was like an explosion accompanied by sounds of things breaking, and screams. It was a bit disconcerting, but I’ve heard some fights that were worse, and, holy smokes, the sexual Olympics of Paula and Frank. . .. When they go at it, it sounds like a scene from a war movie or something!

Well, I guess the best thing we can do is keep our ears open. . . especially if it’s Paula and Frank! Mike laughed. Have a good day!

Leaving for work, Mike sped off to the bus stop. An architect at a downtown Chicago firm, Michael Anderson was in the enviable position of Chief Designer for every resort hotel that the firm of Advent Associates had received commission. At only thirty years of age, that was quite a privilege. But, he was talented and every client wanted the best architect available to do their hotel. The number of projects that he was able to gather based on his flair and style was enormous. Making a name for himself, he was able to command a huge salary, alleviating his wife, Marlene, from her career as a Kindergarten teacher and Child Development Specialist. Looking for a much needed change in their lives, they then sold their home in the suburbs, opting for a more cosmopolitan lifestyle along the lake. There, they found the good life, going out to dinner every night at the best restaurants that Chicago had to offer. They purchased a forty-five-foot sailboat which they kept at Belmont Harbor, owned a handsome fleet of cars and a small twin engine plane, and vacationing around the world. Living on the forty-ninth floor of Lake Point tower, they chose a condominium with an expansive view of Lake Michigan.

Michael’s work days were thoroughly enjoyable, but mentally taxing. Coming home on the bus, he couldn’t be more impatient to wind down.

I’m catatonic, he told Marlene. How are the kids doing? Do you think they’d mind if we ordered some Thai and just crashed around the television?

I’m sure they’ll be fine! his wife reassured. Marie’s playing on the computer and Andrea is getting ready for a bath. Marie got student of the month today!

The dinner of Pad Thai, spring rolls, satay and rice only managed to increase Michael’s state of complete fatigue. Laying down with his daughters to tell them a story, he almost fell asleep before they did. Managing to climb out of the middle of the two beds pushed together, he crashed into his own mattress for the night.

Come on. Get undressed, Marlene urged her husband. You fell asleep with all your clothes on!

Dragging himself up, Michael made his way to the bathtub, pulling off his garments on the way. After a quick wash, he was back under the covers.

Yeow! Marlene shrieked as her husband pushed his water-soaked body against her bare skin. You’re wet and freezing!

Now wide awake, he laughed as he wrapped his leg around her. Protesting, she pushed him away, but he laughed more and lay on top of her.

Mike, c’mon! The kids’ll hear us! she whispered as she pushed him off of her.

Later, then? he invited.

Just make sure the kids fall sleep before you do! she giggled.

There it is again! Marlene screamed as she leaped from the bed. Having fallen asleep only an hour earlier, it was two-thirty in the morning.

But this time, the sound did not go away. In fact, the explosion maintained itself continuously, becoming a steady rumble that increased in volume with every passing second.

I’m getting the girls! Michael shouted. Quickly looking for something to wrap around himself, he grabbed one of the blankets off of the bed. Marlene, with the only attire of one pillow in the front and one in the back, followed her husband out of the room. Running to Marie and Andrea’s bedroom, there was a pounding at the door.

Who is it? Michael yelled.

Get out of here! the voice behind the door screamed.

Wait! Michael responded, as Marlene ran towards the front door with a child in each hand.

Running out of the bedroom with two robes, Michael threw one to his wife. Marlene, carrying Andrea, opened the front door even before she was able to fully wrap her red silk bathrobe around her. Michael led Marie by the hand as he also struggled to get dressed. In the hallway were their friends Nancy and John Roble from the apartment directly below theirs.

Did a plane hit the building? Michael shouted as they ran for the exits.

It must be the terrorists! John exclaimed.

The six ran to the entrance to the stairway as the Robles tried to explain what was happening.

Not that way! Nancy cried out as the Andersons first proceeded to go down the stairs. It’s not a plane or a missile. It’s some force that we still haven’t seen yet!

The group turned around and bolted in the opposite direction, heading for the upper floors.

All we know is that we heard awful screams and really loud noises coming from the floor below, Nancy continued, getting out of breath, as they ran together. "And we started to do the same thing you did, running down to street level to get out of the building. But there was a throng of people coming up, saying that there were people dead down there! In the stairwell we could smell smoke, and we thought that a plane hit the building, too. But some people said that it was coming from inside the building. Then they said we had to get away from whatever it was, and it was chasing people in all directions from that floor. That’s all we know, except that, whatever it is, it’s coming this way!"

Just before they managed to leave the stairwell, the door to the fire exit two floors down burst open, and a horrible smell could instantly be detected. A mass could barely be seen coming through the door, but fortunately, they were into the safety of the fiftieth floor corridor before they would be able to see what it was.

They all knew that unit 506 belonged to the Marshall family. The Andersons, with John and Nancy, frantically banged on their door to alert them of the danger. Suddenly, the door down the hall from the stairwell exploded open. Pounding on the Marshalls’ door even harder, the group now hoped desperately that the Marshalls would be home to let them all in. Fortunately, the door swung in, and the group ran into the apartment.

With the immediacy of the sound now only yards away, everyone sought areas of safety. In a futile effort to obtain protection, Michael corralled his family underneath a large desk in the Marshall’s study room. The rumble now at an earsplitting volume, the front door of the condominium blew open. Cowering under the desk, Michael could hear screams and explosions coming from the adjacent rooms accompanied by the smell of smoke. Fearing the worst, Michael put his arms around his wife and daughters. Amidst terrible clamor, the door to the study flew open. Holding his head down, all he would hear was the blast of something as a light so bright that it pierced through his closed eyes could be detected. A loud clattering was heard as his body reverberated from the onslaught of what felt like a thousand bullets riveting through his body. Then . . . silence and darkness.

Michael opened his eyes, feeling better than he had ever felt before. A complete peace was there, and he could sense fragrant smells of lilacs while a soft glow covered him. Next to him was his wife and two daughters, a light forming a halo around their flowing hair. Wearing graceful dresses of white lace, they smiled as their adored husband and father finally joined them in this place, making them a whole family once more.

Do you remember the pain? Michael asked.

I don’t feel the need to talk about it right now, Marlene responded. "Even though I know it was only an instant before now, it feels like my death happened months ago. Look at our daughters. We all have a wonderful eternity ahead. And right now, I’m very happy!"

You know, Michael commented, his arms around his family, "even though I figured that Heaven would be beautiful, I didn’t think it would be like this. I mean, I figured we would have these bodies of light or something. But we’re still human. And we’re not all some similar infinite age or anything . . . or no age! We’re just like we were before. But, I feel no pain, no hunger, and you all appear so exquisite!"

I had a dream, Marie smiled, when I was little, that I died and I could walk through walls and fly. Do you think we can do that?

Hearing that, the youngest daughter, Andrea, got up and ran for the wall of the Victorian bedroom. Marlene tried to stop her, but, too late, the little girl crashed into the wall. Not feeling any pain, she started to laugh.

I guess we can’t fly either, Marie observed.

You know, Marie further mused, I just had a dream a few weeks ago about dying. I was killed by a bad guy who kidnapped me and I ended up in a room that looked like the principal’s office in our school. There were file cabinets all over the place.

Marlene and Andrea laughed.

No, really! Marie giggled.

Although very young, the two young daughters exhibited wisdom and intelligence far beyond their years. Neighbors and friends told Marlene and Mike that they should be tested for aptitude, but the parents felt that such a move would be too much for children at their age. As a result, they just allowed themselves to enjoy the astonishment of their friends, listening to their little girls speaking as if they were offspring a good five years older. They also got a kick out of Marie, who was in preschool, dumbfounding her teacher when the little girl would bring in the newspaper to read during quiet time.

I still remember the green checkerboard floor tile like I had at Washington School. Marie explained. "And I was all alone. But all of a sudden, ‘pop!’ Andrea just appeared! And you were looking at all of the cabinets, too. You died by that same bad guy. We were trying to figure out what we were going to do! But then, you guys popped into the room just like Andrea did. You got in a car accident and got killed! I thought it was because you were driving too fast going to the hospital trying to see us when we were dead. All I knew is that we were all together again. And all I remember is that I was so happy that we all died at the same time so none of us would be lonely for the rest of us. But, then you told Andrea and me that you lived another forty years after we died and that you were so sad for all that time! I think I started crying, but I was still glad that we ended up together and it only seemed like a second for Andrea and me. Do you think that’s what happened to us?"

If it were really forty years later, Marlene laughed, "you’d be older, wouldn’t you?

A little worried, Michael asked the girls what happened to them.

Nobody took you away from us did they? he appealed. I mean, do you remember anything that happened--

Michael, don’t, Marlene protested.

I have to know! Michael beseeched. I promise I’ll never bring this up again.

Michael looked sympathetically into the girls’ faces.

Do you remember what happened when you died?

Marlene held back a tear.

There were loud noises and it was like getting hit in my head everywhere and it hurt! Marie cried.

It happened under the table with you guys, she perceptively added.

I’ll never talk about this again Michael said as he hugged his entire family. I just needed to know that all of you went as quickly as I did

They soothed each other for a long time.

Isn’t it interesting that we can remember everything? Michael started analyzing again. I figured that it would be like some new plane of existence where you didn’t recollect anything from before; in the same way that we don’t remember anything before we were born or conceived.

But it makes sense, doesn’t it, Marlene answered. Remember, I don’t believe we existed before we were conceived. Scriptures say you have to first be born of water, then the spirit, right? . . . the water in your in your mother’s womb. Now we are born of the spirit, right? From now on, we will remember everything. And I want to remember all of my existence!

Marlene! Mike! Are you guys in there? David Keith shouted as he pounded on the Anderson’s door.

Not using his master key unless it was an extreme emergency, Dave did not want to open the Anderson’s door unless it was absolutely necessary. However, in the light of the activity heard throughout the building, he found that it had to be done. Opening their door, he found a relatively clean and orderly apartment. With the exception of unmade beds, the unit didn’t exhibit any sign of forced entry or violence of any kind.

Anybody home? Dave Keith yelled. Mike? Marlene? Anybody there?

He left after realizing that the Andersons were nowhere to be found.

Possessing brilliant deductive reasoning, David was not going to leave his investigation at this point. Looking down the halls, he found no signs of damage or violence. Nevertheless, he also knows that he could hear running in the halls and a good amount of activity in the stair shafts. Deciding to go onto the floors above and below that of the Andersons condominium, he began to knock on doors.

John! Nancy! Dave shouted as he pounded on the door of the Roble’s unit.

There was no answer there, nor any other location.

Finally, Dave decided that all that was occurring merited enough warrant to start opening doors and checking around. If he walked in on someone, he would simply have to apologize. But he wasn’t going to let political correctness prevent him from getting to the root of a potentially dangerous situation any longer.

Every dwelling seemed to exhibit the same pattern. A clean, unblemished apartment with the exceptions of the appearance that the occupants had left in a hurry. The beds were unmade and, in many cases, clothing was on the floor or drawers were still open. This had to mean that something had to be happening that made all of these people run from their homes and going somewhere.

Opening the door to the Marshall’s apartment, David once again saw a clean, undamaged unit. But this time, there were no imperfections whatsoever. The beds were made, there were no dishes out, no strewn clothing or open drawers.

Initially, Dave figured that this must be a case where the Marshall’s were on vacation, or simply out for the weekend. But something didn’t seem right. David Keith had an uncanny sense of hearing, and just knew that was quite a bit of noise occurring from this part of the building.

Looking around, he could find nothing except a few curious bumps on the wall. There were bumps everywhere. It was similar to something he saw on the seventh floor after a similar event happened a week earlier.

What could be the cause of this? David thought to himself.

Looking under a large wooden desk in the Marshall’s study, he saw an eerie sight. The wall was dimpled with the same dents he saw elsewhere, but an enormous amount. It was as if the wall was hammered to create some kind of rustic wall effect.

But why only under the table? he thought to himself.

Just then, there was a curious knock on the door.

Come in? Marlene and Michael responded, looking at each other.

Entering was an attractive middle aged woman with an endearing smile on her face, and the most charming voice.

Welcome to paradise! she beamed. I will be your helper here.

You mean, Marie naively asked, like a maid?

Oh, no! Suzanne answered. Here there are no maids, or anybody who takes care of anybody else, really. Things just take care of themselves and no one has to work. Don’t ask me how this happens. I don’t know, myself.

How come we can’t fly or walk through walls? Marie pouted.

That will come with time, the guide replied. "I can’t even do any of that! Keep in mind, we have forever here. And, it’s not the same way for eternity. We will become more powerful and knowing spirits. But, for now, we are the most like we were in our previous lives. We will change. But it could happen in one of our old lifetimes from now; maybe way longer. Be patient! In any case, you will have everlasting joy and peace; you will grow to a perfect age; you will fly! Forever will be wonderful! But for now, let me show you all around."

Getting up, the family was now able to look at their surroundings. They had been all together on a large bed with a hand carved headboard which was centered in the massive bedroom. Bathed in white lace draperies, the walls were an ivory, yet soft lavender color. It was a strange look, as if it were almost any color that they wanted it to be. Furniture was clearly Victorian, with comfortable chairs and an exquisite limestone fireplace. Mahogany dressers throughout, the suite was as elegant as any room found in their favorite bed and breakfast hotel. They still remembered the Clayton Manor. Located in South Haven, a resort city in western Michigan, the family had frequented the beautiful restored home at least once a year.

Leaving the room, the family, with the helper, entered a huge hallway with several open doors. Walking effortlessly down the large corridor, they could see into each room, one more delicately decorated than the next. One of them was filled with toys.

That one is your room, Marie, Suzanne said, and I think you’ll recognize some of those stuffed animals.

Lolly! she shouted, as she picked up and hugged her first yellow stuffed dog that she had sorrowfully lost at a family pizza restaurant two years earlier. The stuffed animal was completely clean, fresh and looked brand new, but it was unmistakably Lolly.

Carrying it with her, her mother reminded her to not lose it again, but Suzanne reminded everyone that if Marie lost anything, it would be right back in her room, safe and sound.

This is Heaven, remember? the helper smiled.

Seeing another room filled with toys, Suzanne told the older daughter that she could go