the instillation of fear

I dropped a make-up brush in the toilet.
About the size of a pencil.
I put on rubber gloves to retrieve it
Which only pushed it down further.
I could no longer see it
So I did what I thought was the next best thing.
I flushed.

After that the toilet acted up.
Sometimes it just flushed slowly.
Other times, the water level rose
Instilling that sort of toilet water rising fear.

For a while there was this fantasy
That it would fix itself.
But after a while
I relented and called the plumbers.

The next morning there were two at my door
They took out their tools
Removing the back cover of my toilet
Heads bent together
Discussing the matter in hushed russian.

"Water pressure is low", the tall one said to me with finality.
"Are you sure?", I asked.
"Because sometimes it rises like it's going to overflow."
I tried to sound like I did not already have the answer.
He furrowed his brow, eyed his partner and turned back to the toilet.
I could hear the tools clinking against porcelain.

The shorter heavier set one came into the living room sipping a 7up.
I stopped dusting the bookshelf
Braced myself and waited for the verdict.
The tall one slipped out the front door.

"Have you dropped something in toilet?", he demanded.
"Me? No...not that I can think of."
I tried to sound surprised at the question.
"Mmmhmm...", he frowned.
"Ok. We get snake."
I frantically pieced together an explanation
In case the brush came back up.
Something about babysitting someone's toddler
Who may have thrown a thing or two in the toilet
Like the baby in 'I'll love you forever'.

Finally, after some time, the two men emerged
Red-faced, glistening with sweat.
"Toilet fine now", the short one said out of breath.
For a moment I waited for him to go on
But he said nothing else.

I thanked them and double bolted the door behind them.
I stood over the toiled and flushed.
The water rushed down with urgency once more.