[WP] Write a story where the main character has a physical disability, but only he/she knows it.

Thinking back, he couldn't remember when it started. It probably wasn't a war injury; he'd been lucky enough to come home from Vietnam without a scratch, physically anyway, which was better than could be said for a lot of guys. Before he'd left for Vietnam, he'd said his goodbyes to his family in his own way. He was convinced he wasn't coming back. He did everything he could to keep his people alive and whole, and he avoided the torture of wondering when his time would come or whether he would make it home by simply repeating the mantra, 'Let's see how far we get.' Of course, that's not what he told his men. He promised them they'd all make it home. Most of them had.

He'd run a vending business for a few years after getting back, and people were always amazed by how he could move a pool table by himself. It was more about clever angling and leverage than anything else, but he liked people to think of him as being strong so he didn't let anyone know his secret.

He'd run the vending business for a while, and one of his clients had been trying to run a bar. The owner was drinking up all the profits, so he bought him out and took over. The bar life wasn't bad; all the booze you wanted (as long as you kept an eye on the ledger) and parties every night until dawn. He didn't like to sleep anyway.

The birth of his son had changed all that, and he'd relocated to a small town near where he'd grown up to raise his boy in the country. He spent a lot of his time now puttering around the place, driving a tractor he bought second hand for a few hundred bucks, and doing yard work. He'd been able to do all of that.

So this nagging pain in his hip was a bit of an imposition, and he couldn't remember when it started. Just that it had been there for a long time, and that it was getting worse. Every step was like a sharp knife, digging into his bones. He rubbed it absently with one hand as he followed his son, racing ahead to the next ride. They were at a theme park.

He hand't planned on having the boy. The child had been born when he was halfway through his fifties, and when he'd first found out about the pregnancy he'd been furious. The moment the kid was born though, everything changed. He said to himself, 'If I can just get this kid to graduation, I'm going to be satisfied.' It was a sort of deal he made, though with who or what, he couldn't say.

He eased himself down onto a bench, and no sooner had he sat down and felt a little bit of relief than the boy was off the ride, his face lit up with the joy of the ride, dancing and chattering about how much fun it had been. The old man smiled and rested a big hand on his boy's shoulder, then tousled his hair. "Let's go get the next one," he said, aware that every word might be an important memory.

This was worse than a lot of what he'd been through in the past; the pain was constant, and agonizing, and every step was difficult. But the motivation was better, too. So he took that next step, and the one after, and the one after.

Let's see how far we can get, he thought to himself, trailing after the boy and trying with everything in his power to delay the time when the boy might look back and find himself alone.

/r/WritingPrompts Thread