It wasn't until we had started on the onion soup that I spotted Uncle Louis. He was sitting by himself at a corner table. His hair was combed somehow differently, and there was a colored scarf knotted around his neck. I watched, my soup with its foreign strings of cheese forgotten, as he took out a pipe and a tobacco pouch. His fingers didn't quite know what to do, but he finally got it lit.

By this time Ellen had stopped talking and looked over her shoulder to see what I was watching. “Who's that?” she asked.

I couldn't think of a plausible lie, so I just said, “That's my Uncle Louis,” hoping that would end it. It did. Ellen wasn’t interested in my relatives. But midway through the Duck a l'Orange, Uncle Louis came over to the table.

“Allazoozoo, kiddo,” he said, by way of introduction.

“Hi, Uncle Louis,” I said, shaking his hand and standing up and putting down my fork. It all seemed very complicated.

“This is Ellen Katzenbogen,” I said.

Uncle Louis looked at her and wiggled his eyebrows. Ellen smiled, which seemed to cover the situation.

I decided to plunge in. “You look different,” I said.

“I am,” he said. I thought there might be more coming, but that seemed to be it. I sat down slowly, so he wouldn't think I was being-rude.

“How are things?” I asked.

He waved his pipe back and forth. He didn't seem to have any more to say, but he didn't want to leave either. That at least was like the old Uncle Louis.

“Your pipe smells very nice,” Ellen volunteered.

“Thank you,” he said. “It helps me,” he continued enigmatically.

I filed that away for my mother. He continued to stand over us, popping his lips against the pipe stem, letting out short puffs of smoke.

“We're going to the Geary to see Plain and Fancy,” I said. I was concentrating on keeping the duck and the sauce on the plate, and so missed his expression. But I heard him say, “Ah,” in a way that seemed deep. He took Ellen's hand and said, “The theater.” Then he left abruptly.

Ellen watched him go. “That was weird, the way he left,” she said.

“He always leaves like that,” I said to Ellen. “That's not weird. The pipe is what's weird.”