"Before Dawn"

Chapter 9: Cat Food

Dawn walks to the quaint living room, the place in the house where she's had the most ass-chewings. She expects to see her father and Cat sitting on the couch and recliner respectively, both of them with eye daggers waiting to throw her way. The living room is empty. Dad's prized 60-inch flat-screen television is on and a nerdy-looking weatherman is talking to viewers about the wicked thunderstorms in the area.

"In here," Cat said from the kitchen.

Dawn proceeds to the kitchen. She sees Cat in his black chef-uniform minus- the-hat taking containers of food out of a big brown paper bag and setting them on the kitchen table. Her father is nowhere in sight.

"Grab the plates and glasses. Don't need any silverware. I took plenty from the restaurant," Cat said.

Confused—and now hungry from the smell of the Filipino-food—she grabs three plates and three glasses from the cupboard. "Uhhh...where's Dad?" she asks. She sets plates and glasses on the table, and pulls up a chair across from Cat.

"Garage."

"For what?"

"Picked up those parts we need to fix the van. I told him I'd drop the parts off tonight and maybe start working on it."

"You do know he's been drinking, right?"

Cat chuckles. "Of course. He's not too bad off right now, though. I'm having him do the easy part on his own. Just long enough to get him out of the house so we can talk."

Dawn's heart skips a beat. She stares at Cat in amazement.

Cat see's what she's thinking and said, "No, I didn't tell him."

"Wow. Are you alright? Do you need to see a doctor?" Dawn clowns.

"I can always change my mind?"

"I'm just messing with you. On a serious note, why didn't you?"

"I'll tell you in a second. For now, let's dig in."

Dawn knew he was keeping her in suspense on purpose, wanting to get a rise out of her like he does with her father. She doesn't fall for it and instead plays his silly game. She sits down at the table. "Sure. I'm definitely hungry." She pulls the container with the pansit—thin noodles with diced chicken, cabbage, and onion—toward her plate. She gets up to get the soy sauce from the pantry, but Cat tosses her three packets from the bag. She uses all three.

As Dawn devours the pancit, she gives the table a once over to see what else Cat had brought. She sees fried and crispy pork. Lechon. Of course, there's the white rice. There's the sinigang—and that was all for dad. He's a soup-man, not to mention there'll be enough to help with his hangover that he'll probably have tomorrow. Ahhh...there's the lumpia, Dawn's favorite...and it reminds her of spring rolls which she also loves. Its moments like these when Dawn is glad that Cat is using his chef-gig as his smokescreen to hide his true calling. Besides, he had been a cook in the Navy prior to discovering that monsters exists, so why not? It was convenient, and it all made sense.

"How much lumpia did you bring?" Dawn asks. She's nearly done with the pancit.

"Five." Sounded like he said, "pife". Dawn stifles a laugh. She knows Cat is self-conscious about his accent. As much as they clown each other, she's sensitive to his insecurity—most of the time.

"Four for you, one for me," Cat said. He slides the container of lumpia her way.

Dawn crushes the last of her noodles. She dumps the lumpia from the container and onto her plate.