On the Way to the Dacha

A Story

by Josip Novakovich
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Novakovich is this century's Chekhov, only much funnier.

Law and order, the title of a long-running television series, a concept we adhere to, is foundational for thriving societies. Law implies rules forged by reason and an understanding of human nature’s proclivities; rules that gain stature over time, settled, outlasting their creators. Order means we can be at peace, feel safe in our homes and on the streets. What happens when laws bend to power and survival is mistaken for order? “On the Way to the Dacha” answers this question with a story where laws exist on paper, are ignored and laughed at, and where unbridled power camouflages as order. The dialogue between a high-ranking police officer moonlighting as a “cab” driver and an American visiting Russia chilled and scared me, starting with the driver’s mockery of seatbelts and ending with a collective acceptance that in this land, “Everybody gets into trouble and nobody sees anything.“ Without witnesses protected from reprisals for speaking up, there is no law and order. Otherwise, we’re on the road to dachas, whether we’re the ones who push victims into harm's way or turn away, silent.