Chapter 2: Which Way?
We rejoin Schultz some time later, a considerable distance away, and following many adventures too complicated to go into here...
"Well," said Schultz, as he hurried along the woodland path, "I think I was lucky to escape from that place with my life. It's funny, I always imagined Berchtesgaden to be much bigger. And to think that it's just having so much pepper in his food that makes our glorious Leader so very..."
He broke off abruptly, realising that he was not alone. Sitting on the bough of a tree ahead, just by a fork in the path, was a Cat. Not just any Cat, either. Schultz couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he was sure that, somewhere, he'd seen the creature before: the relaxed attitude, the gleaming eyes under a tilted-back airman's cap, the broad, unnerving grin - this Cat seemed all too familiar.
"Hi, Schultz," said the Cat. "How's tricks?"
"You tell me," muttered Schultz under his breath; but even though the creature looked good-natured enough, it had something of an officer's bearing about it. A Colonel, at the very least. At any rate, he had a feeling it would be in his best interest to treat it with at least the appearance of respect. "Herr Colonel...I mean, Herr K-K-Katze," he went on in his most obsequious tone, "could you possibly tell me which path I should take?"
"Well, that depends," replied the Cat. "Where do you want to end up?"
"Anywhere, as long as it's not here."
The Cat's grin got even wider. "Oh, well, that's easy. Just keep walking."
Schultz sighed. That was not much help.
"Where does that way go?" he asked, pointing towards the right. He didn't like the look of it; the forest grew dense and dark on either side, reaching across the crooked trail with leafless angular branches which seemed ready to accuse, and then to trap, any unwary innocent who ventured near.
"That way? Gestapo headquarters. And the other way," said the Cat, pointing to the path on the left, where within a few yards all visibility was obscured by what appeared to be a severe blizzard, "that's the Russian Front. Take your pick, but if you want my opinion, you'd have to be crazy to choose either of them."
And with that, the Cat simply vanished.
Since Schultz had already started to suspect this particular Cat (or Colonel) of having supernatural powers, he wasn't surprised; nor did he blink when the creature returned just as suddenly as it had gone. "Of course," it went on, "you could always go back the way you came."
Schultz glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the pepper-filled Berchtesgaden, and shuddered. "I would rather not."
"I guess you're not crazy after all," said the Cat, and vanished again.
"Well, he does not want to help me at all," said Schultz to himself. "So, as I have to make this important decision for myself, I must choose as wisely as I possibly can. Heads I go left, tails I go right." He flipped the coin, caught it, slapped it onto the back of his hand, and peered at it. After a moment, he spoke again: "Best of three?"
"By the way, Schultz, I forgot to ask." The Cat, looking more than ever like a Colonel, had rematerialised. "If you did have a choice, where would you go?"
"Back to Stalag 13, of course," said Schultz.
"Stalag 13? Now I know you're crazy." And for the third time, the Cat disappeared, leaving behind a faint, floating after-image of his smile.
Schultz stared at where it had been. "Well, I have often seen a Colonel without a grin, that's how Klink always looks. But a grin without a Colonel – no doubt about it, that has got to be Hogan."
No, of course it wasn't really the Führer. It wasn't even really Berchtesgaden. And it may well have been fake pepper.
The Cat, however, is indeed a Cat – unless it isn't.