Two Notches Down

Left the quiet garage and marched straight down the gravel driveway to the utility trailer. Tied down across the bed was a heavy yellow ratchet strap, handle locked flat against the steel rail. Slack in the line is amateur hour. I stomped up onto the trailer frame, squared my stance, and hooked both hands under the release lever. Hauled hard. The spring gave a sharp snap. I leaned my full weight over the crossbar and drove the handle downward with both forearms. Clack. Clack. The toothed gear bit down hard, chewing up two notches of webbing until the strap hummed tight as an iron cable. Solid tension. Nothing slips on my watch. Bottom line.