Contributor: Steve Karas - - "David is in the front of the building,” the secretary informed me. “Lying on the concrete. Again.” This was why I’d become a social worker at El Dorado High School. To save America’s youth. To save the world. David had transferred in from Vermont. Within the first few weeks of the school year, it had become increasingly evident that Hobson, the veteran social worker on staff, had dumped his most difficult cases on me, the rookie. Hobson, on the contrary, spent his days between the faculty lounge and dealing with family disagreements over car privileges. I walked outside. Through his bird’s nest hair, David picked at his scalp with the tip of a pencil. He had on the same knit sweater he wore every day, even though it was eighty-five degrees. A camera case hung from his neck like an Olympic medal. “What’s...

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Author: Steve Karas