Read Online The Other Side of Midnight by Mike Heffernan - Free Book Online

number sixteen, or something.
    The dispatcher gives out a few more jobs over the set. About a half an hour goes by. He said, “I got that lady on the phone. Are you up on Cherry Hill Road?”
    â€œOh, yes,” the driver said.
    â€œWell, I got her on the phone, and she can’t see you.”
    This driver got little or no education—he can’t read. “Well, I’m here.”
    â€œAre you out in front of sixteen?”
    â€œOh, yes,” he said. “I’m out in front of sixteen.”
    â€œThat lady can’t see you. You got to be on the wrong street.”
    â€œNo,” he said, “I’m not.”
    â€œGo to the end of the street, and spell the street name.”
    A minute later: “Go ahead, Bobby. I’m here.”
    â€œSpell out what’s on the sign.”
    â€œS-T-O-P.”
    Cut Off at the Knees
    Leonard, driving for four years
    Few of the taxi drivers admitted to being behind the wheel by choice. For them, there is a lingering resentment for the life they once had or the possible future that slipped from their grasp: the agricultural plant manager, a victim of downsizing; the assembly line worker too broke up and worn down to keep working. One said, “There are firemen and teachers at it. There are a lot of retired people driving taxis. There are unemployed tradesmen at it. When a taxi hauls up to your door, you don’t know who is going to be your driver. It could be the most educated man you’ve ever met, or the lowest form of human life.”
    Are you familiar with the Cameron Inquiry? I was the witness who had the mysterious piece of equipment. They wanted to know how I got it and what had happened to it. Apparently, there was a computer in the machine with patients’ records. But like I told them, I didn’t even know about the computer until I saw it on the news. For years, I worked on my own, selling and repairing new, used and refurbished medical equipment. Basically, anything and everything with a plug. I was generally referred to as a “field service technician,” “field service representative,” or “field service engineer.” Take your pick—they all mean the same thing. I wasn’t making a big lot at it, but I was making a damn size more than I am taxiing.
    Everything that Eastern Health got rid of, I was the last stop before the dump. What you got to understand is when a machine became redundant and had to be replaced, they would keep the old one around for several months to make sure that the new one was working. When they determined their new machine was working properly, the old one got tossed. If I didn’t take it, it was going to the dump. Say your wife wants to renovate your kitchen. After you get it half done, she says, “We need to get a new fridge and stove.” What do you do with your old fridge and stove? You check to see if any relatives want it for their cabin, or something like that. Two weeks later, the fridge and stove is still sitting in the kitchen. Then the wife decides she’s going to throw the things out. That’s exactly what they used to do in the hospitals.
    A lot of the instruments down there were worn out. Seven to ten years is the average lifespan of a piece of equipment. God only knows how long some of that stuff was down there. Take a family of twelve, for instance. How long is that washer and dryer going to last in their house? Not very long. If you have a family of four, you’ll probably get ten years out of it. A family of twelve won’t. That’s what it was like for a lot of the stuff at Eastern Health.
    I know we’re not talking about the taxi industry here. I’m just trying to explain to you how I got back into it. The short order of it is I had no other choice.
    I had taken this autostainer about five years before the inquiry started up. They asked me if I wanted it: “Get it out of our way.”
    I made a living