Linda draws me into the house, which has the vibe of a Billabong store run by teenagers. In the living room, speakers blare the Red Hot Chili Peppers. I match each family member to Ruben’s description. Uncle Skip, a bachelor who makes his living volunteering for dangerous medical experiments, perches on an ottoman, looking like someone’s gone after his face with a melon baller. On the leather sofa sit Ruben’s older brother, Lucas, a tattoo artist and former pro snowboarder, and his wife, Cindy, a Bikram yoga instructor decked out in Lululemon. Their teenage son, Chad, sits between them, a glowering slab of flesh whose arm is in a sling—due to something innocent like sports, I hope, rather than consensual violence.