A Solomon’s Judgement
Flash fiction
Two neighbours had lived side by side in relative harmony for many years. One had a lemon grove whilst the other cultivated pomegranates.
One day a small lemon seedling sprouted amid the pomegranates, and this rapidly grew into a healthy plant. At first, the lemon farmer paid no attention to this, nor did the other grower pay much notice to it. However, it soon became clear that this one tree was much more luxuriant than the grove next door, and the awakening pleasure in the breast of the one was matched by a rising resentment in the other. Is it not true that a shrub growing on its own, not having to share the richness of the soil with a full orchard will produce the most fragrant, the juiciest fruits possible?
When the time came, it was manifest the product of this unique tree was by far superior to those from the grove next door. In fact it was soon established that nowhere in the country were there better lemons. Whilst one cultivator rejoiced at his good fortune, the other one was becoming prey to increasing bitterness. He approached his neighbour and claimed that the blessed tree really belonged to him, on the grounds that the seed must have been blown away from his grove.
The argument became heated, but before blows were exchanged they decided to take their litigation to the satrap. He listened to the two men carefully, visited the sites involved with his assistants, consulted the legal tomes, and after proper consultations and deliberations, pronounced that although the tree was on the property of the pomegranate grower, it belonged equally to both men. Once the harvest is over, the satrap decreed, each of you will have half fruits.
Now, it is a fact of life that a tree may produce over one thousand lemons, but no two will be the same, so the problem was still unsolved. Who was to decide?
Since the seed came from my grove, the first farmer forcefully put forward, I must be the one to do the sharing. Surprisingly the satrap agreed.
After every single fruit had been gathered, the satrap arrived, and said to the lemon farmer to go ahead, but to choose with fairness. The latter pounced on the pile greedily, and began by picking the lushest, juiciest, plumpest specimens, and when he had finished, it was clear that the two piles, though of equal numbers, were not of the same value.
It seems that you have not shared the harvest in a spirit of justice, the satrap admonished.
No, satrap, the man protested, I have done my best to make two equal shares, as god is my witness.
Since you say that these piles are identical, you will have no objection to let your neighbour take his share first?
