Louis sat hunched over the old piano. He carelessly punched out some of the notes, trying to find a melody, just something that would lift the encroaching melancholia that sat heavily in the room.

He looked over at the window, and saw the Moon hanging high in the sky. It was 5am, if it was not careful it would miss Nature’s curfew. The sun always looked down on anyone who missed the curfew. Louis knew that. He always knew that. He did not need to be told it again. Louis had seen some tough things in his sixty years, but what he had seen lately had taken the biscuit.

Louis looked around for Rags. His old faithful dog looked over at him, and whimpered, pathetically. Rags had seen a lot, too much for a dog as faithful and unflagging in his loyalty.

Louis had been a boxer. He had been a sailor, and a father, a husband. He had been feckless with people, and reckless with his gifts. It had been everything, and nothing that had led him to where he was now.

An old room, in an old house, crouched over an old out of tune piano, that he could barely remember to play Louis sat in his own reverie. The seconds ticking away on the Old Grandfather clock meant less than nothing to him now.

The Old Curfew had been 11.00am. Lights out and seconds down. Louis had been in prison more times than he could remember. The Old House was just a stop gap for him now. His old manager promoter Don, had let him have it. The Curfew had made Louis fearful. He had seen the guards turn out those lights, and silence any protest with their batons.

He had remembered young boys, believing themselves to be men taking on the guards. They only ever did it once. Louis remembered what Don had told him. He had been big in boxing circles, but that had been his youth. The Guards had been careful of Louis. As Don had said, an Old Bear may be slow, but he still has his claws.

Don had looked after Rags. Louis figured it was the least that he owed him. Don had made a lot out of Louis fights, more than Louis ever did, and it was Louis that had suffered the cuts, the bruises, the fractures, the damage.

Don had not been to see him lately. Louis knew that he would be out entertaining some young thing, impressed by cheap jewellery and even cheaper promises. Promises had meant nothing to Don. He had never been to see Louis over the past four months. It had been Louis’s loyalty towards Don that had put the ex boxer in the Prison, and Don out of it.

Louis’s silence and loyalty had cost him dearly. It had only been repaid in kind, by treachery. He had had visitors, his two sons had come along one day. Don had been around and wanted one last favour. The boys had told him no, but he was not taking that as being the right answer. The right answer would have put the boys inside with their father. Louis had not wanted that.

The ex boxer spent time in the gym. He took part in the education programme, kept his nose clean and his head down. Four months was nothing, and they let him out after three months for good behaviour. There were people who had murdered, who had raped, and pillaged. Louis had only really been involved in Money Laundering. He had not been involved in it himself, that had been Don’s doing, but it was Money Laundering that acted as a front, a disguise, and a subterfuge for far worse.

There had been talk of trafficking, of Don being a very dangerous and wanted man. Louis knew that his boxing helped to pay for Don’s other activities. He had learnt the hard way that Don was not a man of his word. Honour was a concept he had no time for.

Don had been married eight times, and each time it ended, he blamed his wife. They had all been good women, able to cope with a lot, and over-look his many indiscretions, his philandering, his drinking, his gambling, his late nights and even later days.

Louis had seen the news. It was why he couldn’t sleep. The air had been fall of electricity, like something had happened, or was about to happen, and it was never any thing good.

There had been days like this in prison. Threats were always being made, but never being delivered. It helped to pass the time. Louis knew the streets, and locking him away made him feel uneasy.

The clock turned now till 5.30pm. The feeling had not dissipated. Louis knew that he had to do more with what ever time he had left. He knew he had to leave. He had children and grandchildren that he needed to reconnect with. He needed something pure, and good, and uncorrupted by greed, by lust, or any of the human failings that had blighted his life until now.

Rags whimpered in the corner, as the light began to intrude into the room. Louis looked out of the window again. It was a new day with all that that had to promise. Louis knew that unless he made his move soon, much of his future would become tangled up in his past.

The Paper Boy had left a paper in the house the day before. The badly damaged body of Don had been found. He had been dead for four days when he was found. He was badly bruised, his ribs were cracked, he had been left. No finger prints had been found.

The Police said it had been done by someone with a grudge, and a debt to be repaid, who knew how to cause damage but not have left any trace. It had been done by some skilled in using their hands, and wearing gloves.

Louis didn’t know who it was, but he had his suspicions. He knew that who ever did it may have been an old bear, but an old bear still has claws. Don didn’t have any friends, only enemies, and people he had made money from. Louis had friends, he was likable, and charming, he had just been unlucky. The other boxers on the circuit had seen him fall for Don. Louis knew that there was somebody somewhere who still had claws.

The Police had closed the case. There were too many who held grudges against Don. The people who owed him money, the people he owed money to, and their were debts that could never be repaid.

The Sun stretched across the far wall of Louis’s room. Far away, a lonesome dog howled at the setting sun. Louis hit the old punch bag one last time, for luck, for posterity. He picked up what he had collected over the past sixty years, and quietly left the house. It would be the last time that any Curfew would apply to him. He waited patiently for the 6 am bus as it took him away from today, and into a better tomorrow.