Once upon a time…

There was a merchant from Baghdad named Ali Cogia. He decided to become a traveling merchant, and wandered around the world for seven years. He left a stupid amount of gold with his neighbor, who thought 1) it was olives, and 2) he was dead. So the neighbor and his wife took the gold, replacing it with olives in memory of their presumed dead friend.

Then Ali Cogia got back and was pissed that his olive jar had olives in it.

Ali Cogia went to a lawyer he knew, or whatever they’re called in Baghdad, and explained his case. The lawyer called the neighbor over, and had him explain his side of the story.

Ali Cogia said he’d left a jar of olives with his “friend”, asking him to keep it safe, but secretly it was a jar of a thousand gold pieces.

The neighbor was like “yeah, you left a jar of olives with me! I didn’t touch it; you found it sealed and in the same spot as you left it! And you said you’d be gone a couple months, you were away seven years! I’m surprised you’re saying it was only a thousand gold pieces, not two thousand diamonds!”

The lawyer asked if Ali Cogia had any proof of the olives actually being gold.

“No. I did it secretly.”

The lawyer asked if the jar was sealed when he retrieved the jar.

“Yes, it was just like I’d left it.”

The lawyer told him to stop trying to make trouble for his neighbor and go away.

Ali Cogia was still upset! He decreed he would write a judge, and stormed back to the inn, loudly lamenting his ludicrous loss.

Gossipers will gossip, so before Ali Cogia had finished his letter, about half the city knew the case. This was in the days before TV and soap operas, so all the mothers and wives of the city congregated at the neighbor’s wife’s place to hear her side of the story, then went to their local shops and talked it over again. Most were sure Ali Cogia was a lying liar, but some pointed out the new roof and paint on the neighbor’s house and said it wasn’t coincidence.

Anyways, that night, after receiving the letter, the judge went for his evening stroll. He happened to pass a park where local children were playing, and paused when he heard the word “judge”.

The children were playing “court case”, acting out the case between Ali Cogia and his neighbor. The oldest boy, about seven, was the judge, while two six-year-olds were Ali Cogia and the neighbor.

The judge, amused, hid behind a tree to see how it would play out. Because he couldn’t find a more suspicious way to watch them, I guess.

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Anyways, the kid playing Ali Cogia yelled and stamped his feet about how unfair it was that his olives were olives and not gold. It was hilarious, especially to all the other kids. The kid playing the neighbor ran around in circles, yelling “I’m innocent!” repeatedly, which was all the proof the children watching needed. Finally the kid playing the judge snapped his fingers.

He pointed to a four-year-old and announced “you are an olive merchant! Bring me one of the olives that aren’t gold!”

The four-year-old ran into a nearby house, and came out a few seconds later with a bowl full of olives. “Mama says everyone gets one,” she said, passing them out.

The kid playing the judge took an olive and bit into it. “This is a good olive,” he decided.

All the other kids agreed.

“It is too good,” he decided. “This olive isn’t seven years old! I’d say it was bought at the market yesterday!”

All the other kids nodded, chewing on their olives.

“So it can’t be the olives that Ali Caga left in the jar seven years ago!”

The kids thought that over, realization dawning. Then, almost all at once, they pointed to the kid playing the neighbor and yelled he was the liar. And then they started chasing him around the park, screaming.

The judge continued on his walk, thinking this over. It was a silly game, but the child judge did have a point. He went home and wrote a few letters. He asked Ali Cogia, the neighbor, an olive merchant, and the child judge to come to him the following morning, when he’d hear the case.

The next morning, everyone showed up at the courthouse. Ali Cogia had his jar of olives with him, as the judge had requested. The child was there with his father, who was absolutely terrified.

The judge had the neighbor testify first. He told about how Ali Cogia had gone, supposedly for only a few months, and left the jar of olives in his basement. And then not come back for seven years, leaving the neighbor to presume he was dead. It was very tragic, and the neighbor had been thrilled to tears when Ali Cogia had resurfaced to ask for his forgotten olive jar.

Ali Cogia then stepped up, explaining how he’d hidden a thousand gold pieces in a jar with olives on top, and left it with his “trusted” neighbor. He’d then left for seven years, and returned to find his gold replaced with olives.

The judge asked Ali Cogia to open the jar, and called the olive merchant forward. He asked the olive merchant to examine the olives, and see how old they were.

The olive merchant walked over and squinted into the jar. “Yeah, no, these aren’t more than three years old,” he said. He picked one up and squeezed it. “Olives go squishy after three years, no matter how well they’re preserved. These are…” he popped it into his mouth and chewed, “...year before last’s harvest.”

The judge winked at the kid, who was beaming. “So, there’s no way these olives have been sealed in that jar for seven years?”

“Oh, absolutely not,” the olive merchant said.

Ali Cogia realized what this meant, and pointed at his neighbor and yelled that he was a liar.

The judge, in his infinite wisdom, decreed that Ali Cogia had some fault. After all, he’d abandoned the olive jar for six years longer than was reasonable without explanation. The neighbor had been fully in his right to open the jar and use what was inside. If one letter had been sent, the full thousand ought to be repaid, but as Ali Cogia hadn’t written not even once, he’d only be returned what the neighbor hadn’t used. And also allowed to keep the olives.

Then he turned to the kid and asked if he’d ever thought about a career in law.

----------------------------------------

Moral: COMMUNICATE.