Detroit Crazy Eyes or the D. C. E

     Tonight I would like to introduce you to the concept of crazy eyes. Many times in my young(ahem!) life, I have encountered someone who is not quite sane. Yes, some of you might remember my old neighbor Mary who would water my plants until they drowned to death every summer, who collected cats, and shopped HSN all day long. Mary had eyes that were the size of saucers and she believed everything she said so intensely that she would never blink. Mary had all kinds of crazy...but this eventide's story is not about her. Tonight's story is about the Motor City. That's right. I'm talking Detroit, baby.
    Sometimes, when you head downtown and park away from Jefferson, you pass people. Folks will be siting on a wall, the ledge of a building or parked in a folding chair right next to a parking lot. Some people will be sitting with friends, talking and laughing...others will be sitting by themselves...talking and laughing or (worse) arguing and gesturing angrily...still sitting by themselves.
     When I pass a group I might say a polite hello or excuse me...when I pass the  lone chatter, I will usually steer a kid by the shoulder to the far side of the walkway. Generally , I will try to NOT make eye contact with the lone stranger--not because I am trying to be polite and ignore the personal conversation he  is having with himself, and not because of a misguided sense of superiority. The main reason I won't make eye contact with a lone stranger downtown, talking to himself is because of his eyes.  The twitchy one on the right, that narrows to give you the "what are you looking at?"look...or the one that is all bloodshot and angry widening to stare you down for walking on his side of the street.
     Yep, we know that look. Normally we just hustle by as quickly as possible, but every once in a while one of us catches the eye. By one of us, I am referencing my husband and our sons. The one best able to shrug off and move on after an experience with the Detroit Crazy Eye is my husband, Todd. I think this is because he was born and raised in the city. He doesn't talk about it too much, but I am starting to think that the D. C. E. was an every day experience for him.
     Well, I  surely never thought to see it on our side of town. But I did. Tonight the D C E invaded my home.  Tonight the D C E was almost responsible for my sweet husband losing his mind. Tonight I watched him silently struggle and overcome a personal bout with D C E. How does this happen you ask? Well, the easy answer is "teenagers." The complicated part of the story includes one phone call home in the middle of the day while my son was in English. And then another one while he was at his after school club...and one frustrated momma passing the buck. But I wouldn't have if I had known what it would drive my husband to do. (BTW: no children or animals were harmed in the writing or experiencing of this story)

     This is the story of  what happened when the Father had to deal with the boy. Simply put, he ranted and raved. He talked himself silly with his calmness. He questioned the boys sanity ( while clearly struggling with his own) and then he got very very quiet. He crossed his arms in front of himself and then his eyes got really big.  They were as wide as I have ever seen them, and his blue irises were almost silver in their radiance. I do not say radiance lightly. There was a fever in my husbands eyes tonight that I have never seen before...they glowed with a silent fury that heated the room. If our son was a ball of snow, he would have been melted by the intensity of silence.  It was that moment when I realized the crazies I have seen before are pretty normal. I will no longer shudder in fear when I walk by...because I have truly met the Detroit Crazy Eye...and he lives with me.