The Polymath

By Javier Arturo Munoz Justin

As I was walking down Sixth Ave., making my way towards to the Rockefeller Center, when I saw a man whom I can only describe as ξένος βάτος. He was around six feet tall with skin dark as cinnamon. His hair was long and his beard was trimmed in a Islamic manner, he came up to me and said: ‘Good evening friend, where are you heading to?’ Caught off guard and not wanting a creepy stranger to know my daily routine, I said, ‘To the subway, I’m heading to Columbia. I have a class in two hours.’

‘What is the class about?’ asked the Polymath.

‘It is,’ I said nervously, ‘a class about applied mathematics and quantum physics.’

‘AHHHHHHH, are you a physicist?’

‘No, I’m a mathematician.’

‘Even better,’ said the Polymath as he started to grin widely. ‘I happen to be a mathematician and physicist myself, though I prefer mathematics. My name is Panagiotis Andreadakis, but I prefer the name Panagiotis Grapsia. What is the name to you?

‘Noel-Juan De Nemone,’ I responded, ‘why do you prefer Grapsia over Andreadakis?’

‘Andreadakis has the word man in it, it means man, it means man. But the name Grapsia, sound the Greek word for writing, graphi. Now my good friend, I will walk with you to the Columbia, so I can sneak in and listen to the lecture. Do not worry, do not worry, I will sit in the very back, so the professor will not see me, he will not see me.’

At this point, I know I was screwed, since I had to now go to Columbia and pick out the right classroom to sneak in. Not only that, I also had to take the right subway and hope that Panagiotis Andreadakis won’t realize that I am this whole thing. As we walked down into the subway station, Panagiotis Andreadakis told me, ‘follow me, follow me! I know a secret train that will take us to the Columbia, I know a secret tain I know a secret train. It was built by the Greek Free-Masons back in the 70s, back in the 70s.’

I was weirded out at first, but I did not want to make a scene or cause this potential serial killer to become angry with me, so I followed him into a door that was hidden behind some Turkish kebab stand. It was a dark long hallway, until he turned on the lights and I saw it. It was a big bug shaped train. As we got in, Panagiotis Andreadakis turned on the engine and the train started to play Hava Nagila. In fact, Hava Nagila was the only song the trained played. We sat there for HALF AN HOUR listening to nothing by Hava Nagila. Panagiotis Andreadakis did mind, however, since he liked the song. He told me that the secret platonic melodies in the song led him to attain secret knowledge.

After the half-hour train ride, Panagiotis Andreadakis stopped the train. We went flying out the windshield, hitting on a trampoline on the wall. This trampoline, of course bounced us right off, lucky there was a second trampoline, that bounced us off onto a third trampoline. We were bouncing from trampoline to trampoline for 20 minutes, as we started to slow down enough to get off, all the while Hava Nagila was still playing in the background.

‘Here we are,’ said Panagiotis Andreadakis, ‘the secretly train station under the Columbia.’ He opened the door and we walked into the backroom of a Taco Bell and Panagiotis Andreadakis said, ‘the Masons must be under new management.’

As we were walking towards Columbia, I pulled out my phone and pretended that I got an email. I said to Panagiotis Andreadakis, ‘I just got an email from my professor, he said that class is canceled today due to illness.’

‘Let me see, let me see,’ said Panagiotis Andreadakis.

‘My phone died.’

‘That is too bad, that is too bad. Let we go to my apartment, to my apartment.’


‘I want show some mathematics, I do not leave far, I do not leave far.’

We walk about two blocks from Columbia to his apartment. As we were walking, Panagiotis Andreadakis started to hum to himself Hava Nagila. As we got into the elevator of his apartment, he pressed the 33th floor button. Walking into his apartment, the light started to flash various colors and a robotic voice said in Greek, ‘Καλώς Ὀρισες Σπἰπι Παναγιοτά Γραψία,’ which means ‘Welcome home, Panagiota Andreadakis.’ On the wall I saw a button which had on its screen the number 25. I pressed the button and Panagiotis Andreadakis came running to me and said ‘Don’t press it, don’t press it. They will beat me, they will beat me.’

‘Who will beat you?’

‘Doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter, they will beat me, they will beat me.’

‘Can you at least tell me what it does?’

‘It plays magic noise to freak out Athenian Greek, to freak out Athenian Greeks. I can only use it 33 times and I’ve used it 25 times, 25 times. I only have 7 tries left, 7 tries left.’

I continued walking around his house. On a big screen, I saw a video of the ghost of Panagiotis Andreadakis beating up Panagiotis Andreadakis himself. I thought it was weird and continued walking. I then saw the Masonic symbol with the number 33 on it. Again, Panagiotis Andreadakis came running to me saying ‘don’t look, don’t look,’ as he threw a transparent plastic sheet over it to hide it.

Afterwards, he took me to a room where a man was lying on the bed. Panagiotis Andreadakis took a needle and poked him on the head and the man got up and started to walk. The man then started running towards the window and as he broke through, he position his body as flat as a plank and tilted himself to form a slope as a he was falling down from 33 stories up.

‘You just killed a man,’ I said as I was freaking out.’

It’s okay, it’s okay,’ said Panagiotis Andreadakis, ‘ Noel-Juan, it’s okay, it’s okay, he’s going to the eternal lodge, the eternal lodge.’


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