I decided, in my old age, to return to my native Kuban. A pension, a little house, a beehive. I drove, drove—and didn’t make it. A car accident, death—and… 1980? Am I again a young driver in the collective farm? Fields all around, stanitsas, farmsteads, and right on the nose—harvest season. The Union in all its glory! A fairy tale! And, most importantly, no disaster has happened yet in my family, and I’ll be able to prevent it. But first I have to reach the garage with my broken “Gazelle.” Hey! Comrade! Take me in tow! What?! Where are you going?! Stop!