Goines On: Whose fault had it been?

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Goines had received no reply to any of his emails of recent years to his old work-colleague friend Keith, of 30+ years ago at IBM. Today, Goines was wondering, once again, what he might have done to drive Keith away. He had always assumed that he, himself, had “done” something. But today, a new possibility occurred to Goines, one that could, when generalized, explain the retreat, the falling away of other old friends and acquaintances.
    Goines probably thought of this new possibility today because, when he thought of Keith this morning, he was, at the time, putting away the knives and forks and spoons he had just washed by hand.
    Goines remembered the incident of the missing fork. Keith and his wife had come over for dinner in Chapel Hill. Though dinner went well, Goines vaguely remembered that there had been some clashing of personalities between Keith’s wife and both Goineses – maybe with Goines more than with Mrs. Goines. He wished he could remember the details, but they were no longer there, no longer available.
    Anyway, after Keith and his wife left, Goines noticed – probably the next morning – that they were a small fork shy. It was only a fork, but the forks were part of the set the Goines had begun wedded life with. And Goines liked to have a full set. So, on Monday, at work, Goines asked Keith whether they had taken the fork home with them on Friday. Had Keith seemed surprised to be asked such a question? Again, Goines could not remember. In any case, Keith said he didn’t think so, and maybe he said he’d check with his wife to be sure.
    Today Goines asked himself: what if they had taken the fork? What if Keith had lied and they had gotten away with the fork?
    And, if they had, what if Keith, rather than denying it, had admitted they had taken the fork? In that case – not having “gotten away with it” – might Keith – having come clean – not have fallen away, not have felt he had to slip away from Goines altogether in order to spare himself the guilt, the shame of being confronted and found out?
    And what if a similar reason lay behind many of the other fallings-away Goines continually bemoaned, suffered over, interrogated himself about? The librarian who stopped reaching back a year or so earlier, a couple of months after she left town and drove to the Pacific Northwest; the 8th-grade classmate who had been the first girl he said “I love you” to, who had suddenly, four or five years earlier – without a word, after a couple of years of reconnection via email 55+ years after 8th grade – just dropped out, had never answered any further emails; the college classmate who, though a long-time church pastor, just went away and stopped corresponding after his email of four months earlier, just before the Goineses left for France? The pastor seemed okay; his church’s website still listed him.
    Goines knew he could think of others who had also fallen away, but he didn’t want to dwell on that now. Had all of these old friends – and not Goines – done something to be ashamed of – as Keith now seemed to have done? The point was: could the “Keith explanation” apply to them all? Possibly (or probably?) not, but believing it might ease Goines’ burden.
    And he sensed it would be a relief from self-recrimination to speculate what each of these lost friends had done to shame themselves and then to seek relief by withdrawing from Goines.
    But, for now, he didn’t want to think about that either. And maybe now he could even let it go entirely and think no further of it.

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