THERE once was a pie.
A group of hungry men passed through a village, rummaging through the garbage looking for something to eat. They were famished, having trekked through the mountains, braving harsh weather and hostile beasts. They were neither friends nor enemies, just companions.
Some found table scraps, one an apple core which he quickly devoured. Another licked out soup residue from a discarded bowl. Suddenly, one of them spied a glorious, fresh pie. It looked perfectly fine. It was neither moldy nor dirty, it had not come in contact with the other garbage. The man set the pie on a box as they gathered around. It was the answer to their prayers and would satisfy their desires.
They eyed each other suspiciously. “How shall we divide it?” one of them asked.
“We should divide it evenly, one portion per person.” another answered.
The man who found it said, “I should get an extra portion. Afterall, I found the pie. If it were not for me, none of you would have any at all.”
The largest man among them chimed in, “I think we should divide it according to need, with the largest people getting bigger pieces and the smaller people receiving smaller pieces. That would be fair. The bigger the need, the bigger the share.”
“Oh, sure,” declared the smallest man. “Punish me for being small. I am just as hungry as the rest of you, and closer to death since I have no body fat to live off. If anything, we should divide the pie according to who has gone the longest without eating, they being in most danger of starvation.”
“I guess that would mean you would get the largest piece. You are so selfish!” barked the large man.
Another man, who through the course of events had come to occupy a position of semi-leadership among the group, raised an interesting point. “There are six of us here, but two of our companions stopped along the way. Should we also cut pieces for them, dividing the pie into eight portions rather than six? It seems the fair thing to do.”
“Forget them!” answered another. “They were not here when we found the pie…”
“I found the pie!”
“OK, when the pie was found. Happy? They were not here so they do not share in the pie.”
“Look, it is not their fault they were not here,” the semi-leader retorted. “One man had to stop to relieve himself and the other stayed to look after his companion. A person cannot help that.”
“Who made you the leader? Ever since you chased off that pack of dogs, you have been playing the boss. No one asked you to lead us. Who said we need a leader at all? I think I should be the leader of the group, and I say they don’t get portions.”
Someone else offered, “I say we divide the pie and eat it before they arrive. Then we act like nothing happened. They can find other food. We will even help them search for it.”
Voices raised, accusations and allegations flew, a horrendous melee broke out with each man punching and kicking at anyone in reach. Hatred filled their eyes as they took on the appearance of cornered animals in a fight for survival.
In their weakened condition, the fight was brief. Bloodied and battered, each man lay nursing his wounds, except two men who died from their injuries. The semi-leader looked across the alley that was their battleground and saw the pie, scattered across the ground, covered in filth. No one would get any pie.
BC Cook, PhD lived on Saipan and has taught history for 20 years. He currently resides on the mainland U.S.
BC Cook
