The savage look in those eyes was enough to send chills down my spine; the kind of look one might expect to glare from behind the door of a padded room. From a birds-eye view, it must have looked like excited children playing with Matchbox cars, sending them into a chaotic frenzy, careening every which way. Cars were separating on the two-lane in front of us as if an invisible child’s hands were effortlessly pushing them to the left—into the highway median and into oncoming traffic in the other lanes, or to the right—straight into a steep embankment recently dug by heavy equipment. The driver of the old green car…