Reviewed by Pennell Paugh
May 13, 2026 (San Diego) — San Diego writer Travis Lee has added a new novel to his impressive collection of writings. Abe’s Decision is his 18th novel. This story describes a dark world where people work in a coal mine. Food, health care, masks against coal dust and adequate clothing are not provided regularly to the workers.
Abe tries to save another worker and is lifted from the level of worker to the position of doctor, though he is, in fact, a pharmacist. His quality of life vastly improves: three meals a day, a uniform, an office, his own bedroom…
His job is a farce, because he lacks the skills and his supply of medicine and first aid is paltry. A patient is brought in who has multiple wounds in his chest. Abe uses what he has been given and covers the wounds with band aids, then sends the patient to the hospital.
A woman comes to be treated for headaches, probably because she is malnourished. Abe falls into a relationship with her. She becomes pregnant. Though he doesn’t always eat the food he is given, he doesn’t provide nourishment to his lover.
A guard offers Abe a chance to escape but clarifies the opportunity is only offered to Abe. He can’t take a second person, least of all his girlfriend. If he accepts the offer, will it be legitimate? More importantly, will Abe stay at the work camp to give his lover a chance to survive under impossible conditions?
I recommend Lee’s writings. His stories can have more than one interpretation. Often, he makes social commentary. This story is no exception. Travis gets the reader space to reflect to grasp each story’s meaning on a deeper level. Give it to friends as gifts and enjoy discussing what they think the stories mean.
Below is an excerpt from the novel:
“Abe squinted against the cold and the dust, black silt the morning winds carried in from the pits. He was lying on a small cot stacked three each in a moldy flat-top hut cracking apart with age. He slept in the top cot. It was a short climb to the floor and Abe listened to the others crawl out of their cots.
“Two cots down, Lucas moaned.
“He’d moaned much of the night too—they often did, food was a privilege. Abe climbed down from his cot and coughed from the silt and blinked, careful not to rub his eyes. His first week here a young woman had lost an eye to infection. The winds picked up and Abe faced the silt at an angle, exposing neither eye nor ear, struggling not to breathe too much. After this, he wanted to live a healthy life.
“After this.
“The workers told stories about their lives after the mines. Not so much about their lives before the mines, the men and women they’d loved, the children they’d raised. The before did not mingle with the now, and the moment they’d either been sentenced to the mines or believed the false promises of a job agent, the wall went up. Best not to talk about the before. Best to keep working, and let the time pass.
“Lucas moaned, louder.
“All the other workers had risen from their cots. The day began at seven, and though there was no clock in the huts to keep track, you grew accustomed to the schedule. The long-timers had adjusted and you adjusted too, rising before the guards marched in with their seizure sticks to jolt anybody who’d slept in. One jolt was painful. Two meant extra duties, and three…
“Lucas moaned again.
“Abe forded the collection of haggard workers, dressed in their paper mining coveralls, the holes mended with scraps of cardboard and tape, and he checked on Lucas.
“In the night, Lucas had fallen from his cot. He was trembling in the dirt. A chill persisted throughout the mines. To keep warm, you had to pull your arms through your sleeves and hug yourself inside your coveralls, a trick the elder had taught Abe his first week here.
“Lucas was hugging himself, his coveralls piled around his ankles. Abe looked towards the doorway, uncovered, the only way in or out and through it Abe saw guards on the move. He didn’t have much time.
“Abe knelt, and lifted the coveralls. Lucas’s feet were swollen. Abe laid the coveralls back over Lucas’s feet and checked the rest of his body. A thin, bony man, but who wasn’t thin and bony here? The days took their toll, never mind the years.
“Lucas moaned, burying his face into his arms. The guards could withhold food for as long as they wanted. One day, two…
“Abe rose, and took his position by his cot. Soon the guards marched in, seizure sticks hooked through their work belts. The guard in the middle had a scoped rifle slung over his back and he ordered everyone to stand by for roll call.
“Writhing, Lucas grabbed the cot, trying to pull himself up.
“’Rankins.’
“’Present.’
“’Richards.’
“’Present.’
“The cot tilted under Lucas’s strength. It broke, and Lucas fell in the dirt and moaned, curse or pain, it amounted to the same.
“The guards finished roll call and the workers filed out of the hut for the day’s duties. They marched through the doorway into the cold and the swirling black silt one at a time, the guards scrutinizing them, seizure sticks close at hand. In the hut Lucas moaned. He might have called out for help or he might have screamed. No one knew.
“By the time they got to the yard, Abe could no longer hear him.”
Travis Lee is the author of “Kale & Jason,” “Tear Sin,” “The Seven Year Laowai,” “The Journey through Nanking and Grandpa & Henry.” His fiction has appeared in The Colored Lens and Independent Ink Magazine, among other places. To learn more, visit his website at http://www.travis-lee.org