{Note: The Madonna Timeline is an ongoing feature, where I put the iPod on shuffle, and write a little anecdote on whatever was going on in my life when that Madonna song was released and/or came to prominence in my mind.}
Dark eyes on a dangerous face you are a beautiful killer
We pass by the same old place you are a (beautiful killer)
You don’t have a life, you have blood on your hands
You can sleep at night and I don’t understand
I don’t know much about you are a wanted man…
Driving along a Massachusetts highway, the dirty piles of sand and salt at the end of winter lining the barren road, I turn the bonus tracks of MDNA up a little bit louder. Sometimes good music needs to be racked up a few notches to get the best effect. I’m speeding along to pick up a friend. There is business that needs to be finished. Plans to be finalized. A job to complete. And this one I cannot do alone.
You can call my name and I’ll be around
Maybe I’ll let you shoot me down
Cause you’re a beautiful killer, with a beautiful face
A beautiful killer and you won’t leave a trace
Black leather gloves grip the steering wheel. Aviators shade the eyes. A bag sits in the passenger seat – a bag that I will carefully move when I pick her up. The contents are precious, maybe only to me, but that’s the most kind of precious there is, for any of us. She’ll understand. She’ll know. She’ll go along with what needs to be done.
Do you know the reasons why you are a beautiful killer?
Hurt yourself but you never die, you are a beautiful killer…
I like your silhouette when you stand on the streets
Like a samurai you can handle the heat
Makes me wanna pray for a haunted man…
You can call my name and I’ll be around
Maybe I’ll let you shoot me down
Cause you’re a beautiful killer with a beautiful face
A beautiful killer and you won’t leave a trace
Can’t really talk with a gun in my mouth
Maybe that’s what you’ve been dreaming about
Cause you’re a beautiful killer with beautiful eyes
A beautiful killer and I love your disguise…
Do you know the reasons why you are a beautiful killer?
Hurt yourself but you never die, you are a beautiful killer…
I like your silhouette when you stand on the streets
Like a samurai you can handle the heat
Makes me wanna pray for a haunted man…
You can call my name and I’ll be around
Maybe I’ll let you shoot me down
Cause you’re a beautiful killer with a beautiful face
A beautiful killer and you won’t leave a trace
Can’t really talk with a gun in my mouth
Maybe that’s what you’ve been dreaming about
Cause you’re a beautiful killer with beautiful eyes
A beautiful killer and I love your disguise…
I turn off the highway, drive through a quaint-enough town, and find her street. I’m a little early. The text arrives that she is almost there. I wait in front of her house. There is time to go through the bag one last time. Everything is in order. I zip it up and place it in the back seat. The sun is beginning to go down, slivers of an almost-crimson last gasp of daylight splinter through the windshield. Beauty can be broken glass framed in blood, but I’m wearing gloves, and I’m not afraid.
You changed the past
Good guys always finish last
What happens now?
I need to know how the story goes
Are we together?
I love you forever…
Another text. She is near. Soon she will round the corner. She’ll take the kids inside, and then she’ll open the car door, and we will be off. In killer boots and tight black pants, short-cropped hair and nothing to lose, she’ll swing her bag into the back-seat next to mine. Back on the highway, the city just ahead of us, we will finalize the last steps we need to take.The steady strumming of an electric guitar pushes us along. Buildings rise out of the sudden darkness. A mini string battle comes after the bridge, the song breaking up for a moment before the beat comes back in, hand claps offering some seemingly harmless relief, but we know better. We know there is always something more to come, something more dangerous, more sinister. I grip the steering wheel tighter as we reach the site of the rendezvous.
You can call my name and I’ll be around
Maybe I’ll let you shoot me down
Cause you’re a beautiful killer with a beautiful face
A beautiful killer and you won’t leave a trace…
We unload the car quickly in the cloak of night, furtively hurrying up unlit staircases, depositing supplies, then locking the doors behind us as we park a few blocks away. There is time for one last dinner- just the two of us – before our work begins. We relax a little, even laughing a bit. Scoping out the restaurant, our agreement goes unsaid. A shot of tequila, then the salty rim of a margarita. A sangria for the lady. Nothing too strong to dull the senses, just something to take the edge off the anticipation.
Can’t really talk with a gun in my mouth
Maybe that’s what you’ve been dreaming about
Cause you’re a beautiful killer with beautiful eyes
A beautiful killer and I love your disguise…
We are in the city to prepare for a friend’s 40th birthday. It will be held at the condo the next day. The supplies – the bag – all filled with party preparations. The restaurant – a test for a possible post-party gathering. The partner-in-crime – my friend Kira, who is helping me throw the party. The song – ‘Beautiful Killer’ – the one that was playing as I made my way to her home to pick her up. The party – a killer success.
You’re a beautiful killer, but you’ll never be Alain Delon.
