Rab A Dab Dab

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A real pressure cooker is how some described him . A little terror
of a kid he was . Others said he had behavioural management problems .
As a youngster Robert was a real handful for his parents . He got used
to the hand claps around his ears, in fact he seemed immune to
punishment .
His teachers at school often ignored him in class . They said he was
impossible to teach . He couldn't read or write well and by the time he
was leaving primary school Robert had a huge chip on his shoulder .
Tagged as a junior delinquent Robert was told he would have a hard road
ahead in life They said he would never get a steady job . I suppose no
one reached Robert a helping hand and so people never really understood
him .
Although he was considered a hard case the real truth of it was, that
Robert needed time to develop his character .

Not long after he started secondary school Robert's skill in woodwork
and metal work surfaced . Now instead of being punished more times than
anyone else he was applauded and encouraged . Half of his problem was
that he never knew how to apply himself to the academic side of school,
but in the practical side of school life he excelled . Now the shoe was
on another foot and Robert was able to help other students who found it
hard in this linr of work .
Now Robert had a new identity . He also found a new circle of friends .
They called him Rab for short and he was admired for his abilities
.
As he approached the end of his school years Rab mapped out a future
for himself . He was determined he would survive . One day at the local
fair he bought a horse and cart from a traveller and painted a business
sign for it that read Mobile Handy Man .
So long before he could afford a van Rab drove his horse and cart
around the streets looking for odd jobs . He had a big brass bell that
he rang, so people would know he was coming . In his cart he carried a
wide variety of tools and odds and ends . Apart from sharpening
scissors and knives Rab fixed most household things . He heeled shoes
and polished copper and brass . He collected old rags and cut hedges .
He mowed lawns , did plumbing and basically was your do anything man .
He was the local wake up man who called early and knocked your window
in case you slept in for work . While he was there he would wash your
windows if needed .
Kids loved to hear the bell ring and followed Rab's cart from street to
street . Sometimes he would give them a little toy in return for
scooping up the horse dung left by his old grey mare . He bagged up the
dung and sold it as fertilizer for roses .
In an old shed on the low dock Rab kept his horse and cart . In the
upstairs of an old terrace house in Sailorstown Belfast Rab dabbed away
at night with his oil paints . Belfast Rab was a gifted man . No one
had ever seen his canvases . The unknown masterpieces lay back to back
on landings and up against walls in his run down little bed sit flat .
Rab painted the faces of those people he saw during the day . Certain
images and lifestyles of Belfast City he captured . Night after night
Rab had a new picture to paint and another story to tell . Grouted in
between the creative spaces in his subconscious Rab could vividly
recall an expression he had seen during his working day . The detail in
his art was exceptional .
It's a wonder teachers never picked his gift up at school . I suppose
no one was there in those early years to see his first sketches on
scraps of paper . The fact was teachers had given up on him early and
no one was there to encourage him .
Now in the twilight years of his life Belfast Rab had arrived . His
love for art also cut him off from social life and being passionate
about what he did almost spoke to you through the people on his
paintings . Rab found he worked better when he drank wine . It made him
unwind and gave him the ability to focus better on the three
dimensional aspects of his work . An artist lives a lonely life and not
many hear that call . Not many are so inspired as Rab . He had no time
for housework and scattered on the floor of his room lay fragments of
dirty clothes and empty tins and bottles . The windows of his bedsit
where coated by grime and so the outside world was unseen . Furniture
in the flat was non existent apart from the mattress on the floor .
With a tea chest for a table and a fruit box for a chair Belfast Rab
lived out his life answering to no one but himself . The only thing
that kept Rab going each day was the hunger for new faces to paint and
the desire to find images of his beloved Belfast City . So future
portraits pushed him out into the rain and the cold to where his horse
and cart waited .

He paid a docker by the name of Yank to feed and shoe his grey mare .
Yank worked part time as a chanter in some of the pubs around the town
. He was the talented tenor you could hear as the night drew near . He
had the rhythm of the city and the rumble of its heart . Yank was a
good man and looked after Rab's asset . His horse and cart . That's why
it was so difficult the day the grey mare died . Yank had to break the
news to Rab and did so in a very innovative way .
Early in the morning as the fog still covered the rooftops of Belfast
Yank made his way to Rabs flat . Climbing the old staircase he found
the landing where stacks of canvasses lay . He made his way to the door
and knocked . Belfast Rab opened the door with a creak and saw Yank who
stood there with a big smile on his face . Yank said ,
" Good morning Rab ."
"What do you want ? Haven't I already paid you this month ? " Rab
replied .
"Oh sure you did Rab . No problem about that . Was the answer Yank gave
.
"Well then what do you want Yank ?" Said Rab .
"I want you to do a portrait of me ." Rab was overjoyed and said
.
"Don't stand there like a beggar . Come in Yank . Sit down ."
Rab pushed the wooden fruit box over to Yank who took out a cigarette
and said,
"Give me a light will you Rab ?"
Rab leaned over and looked into Yanks face . He stood back and checked
another profile . Eventually he produced a box of matches and lit Yanks
smoke for him .
"Is the picture for you ?"
Rab asked .
"No . Its for my cousin Michelle who lives in America . I want to send
it over as a Christmas gift for her . She hasn't seen me for ten years
and I thopuht it would be a good way to show her I haven't changed
."
Rab grabbed an empty canvas and placed it on the easel . He grabbed
some brushes and oils and as if inspired with sudden greatness Rab
immediately began to dab and stroke out an image unto the frameless
board .
"I'll make it like you're a visitor then Yank . Hold up this for me
will you ."
Rab handed Yank an empty wine bottle . Yank took the bottle and held it
up and said ,
"I saw one of those new trucks in Cornmarket yesterday Rab ."
"No Yank that's too high hold it out in front of you as if you're
pouring a drink for a friend . Yes that's it ."
"That new truck I saw has lots of space and a radio built in ."
Rab continued to dab away . It was as if he was in a trance .
"This cousin of yours is she older that you ?"
"Yes just by a few years . She tells me everyone drives a car over in
America Rab . Do you know what I think that a small truck would be a
great asset for your business Rab ."
Suddenly Rab stopped painting and dropped the brush . He looked at Yank
.
"It's the mare . Isn't it ."
He said .
Yank walked over and looked into Rabs bloodshot eyes and said .
"I found her this morning ."
On the brink of tears Rab said ,
"So she's snatched it . Handed in her notice then ."
"There's nothing you could have done. "
Yank replied .
Rab walked out of the flat into the street and Yank walked over and had
a look at the painting . When he saw the work he could hardly believe
his eyes . The image of Yank standing on a ship holding a torch like
the statue of liberty behind him was a new York skyline .
"Perfect ."
Said Yank . He knew Rab needed tome alone and so he remained in the
bedsit until his return . During the time Rab was away Yank checked out
all the canvasses in and outside the flat . He was so impressed by what
he saw that he called in an art dealer who was so impressed that he
called in the director of the art museum .
About a week later Rab returned .
Immediately Yank handed him a bundle of bank notes .
"This is just a deposit Rab ."
"What's going on Yank ."
"I had to tell them about you Rab . Your work is too good to be lying
here undiscovered . Please let them show your work Rab . "
Rab stood there in shock .
"You mean someone likes my paintings ."
Yank burst out laughing .
"Rab your entire collection is lined up for a new masters exhibition
."
An international art directors is waiting to come over on your approval
to view your work . Rab the thing is you are going to be famous
."
The rest of the story is history . Belfast Rab became one of the worlds
greatest artists and in turn Rab became a very wealthy man indeed
.
Tourists from every corner of the globe these days flock to admire his
work.
How ironic that this new genius and artistic greatness just now
discovered by many had been overlooked by many who only saw
hopelessness and under achievement in a young boy called Robert that no
one really understood .

By Paul McCann

THE END