Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
alone. Before we realized what was happening he was just like any other ten-year-old, full of curiosity and the devil, with no more power to move things by staring at them than anybody else had. I think he actually forgot about those stars along with other things that had meant so much to him when he was tied to his wheelchair and couldn't do anything but wait and think. Joey—but between them they changed the face of the universe he was lying back in his chair with his face turned to the sky, staring upward with such absorbed intensity that he didn't even know I "Anything wrong, Joey?" I asked. eye. Doc says that footloose migratories like him and me forget old associations as quick as kids do—and for the same good reason—so I'm I remembered why the kid wasn't watching the palmetto flats. But I couldn't help wondering why he'd turned to watching the sky instead. "What're you looking for up there, Joey?" I asked. I wish I'd asked Joey or Ethel, before they moved away, how Charlie trying to remember just what it was about my stumbling over Joey's Joey that time too, but he wasn't moving stars then. He was just staring ahead of him, waiting. He'd been sitting in his wheelchair at the west end of the highway. He was practically holding his breath, as if he was waiting "I'm waiting for Charlie to come home," he said, keeping his eyes on back. But I was wrong on at least one count, because when I switched on the light and dumped the packages I'd brought on the sink cabinet I saw Doc asleep in his bunk. He'd had a drink, though. I could smell it on him when I shook him awake, and it smelled like gin. Doc sat up and blinked against the light, a thin, elderly little man with bright blue eyes, a clipped brown mustache and scanty brown hair tousled and wild from sleep. He was stripped to his shorts against the shaggy mutt with only one eye and no love for anybody but the boy. The dog isn't coming home. He was run down by a car on the highway while Joey was hospitalized with polio." "Tough," I said, thinking of the kid sitting out there all day in his us would look out the window and see Joey Pond in his wheelchair, waiting for a one-eyed dog named Charlie to come trotting home across the kid didn't want another mutt because he had what Doc called a psychological block. had depended on Joey for the affection he wouldn't take from anybody At first I thought it was funny that Joey never complained or cried part of this psychological block business. If Joey cried he'd be admitting that Charlie was lost. So he waited and watched, secure in his belief that Charlie would return. highway, looking for Charlie. And he never let anything interfere with point to ride back by way of the Pond trailer and Joey would stop him and ask if he's seen anything of a one-eyed dog on his route that day. mop his bald scalp, scowling while he pretended to think. Then he'd say, "Not today, Joey," or, "Thought so yesterday, but this fellow had two eyes on him. 'Twasn't Charlie." until all hours of the morning, and when he finally went back to sleep we'd hear her open the cupboard and take out the gin bottle. that changed Joey's routine and a lot more with it. It left a mark She stood for a while without moving, then she looked up at the sky another lousy one-eyed mutt to You?" "She's done it, Roy," Doc said. I knew what he meant and wished I didn't. Ethel had finally told the kid that Charlie wasn't coming back, not ever. That's why I was worried about Joey when I came home the next evening and found him watching the sky instead of the palmetto flats. It meant crazy. Not that you could blame him for going off his head. It was tough enough to be pinned to a wheelchair without being able to wiggle so much as a toe. But to lose his dog in the bargain.... under his arm. Doc was stone sober, which surprised me, and he was hot and tired from a shopping trip to Tampa, which surprised me more. It "Books for Joey," Doc said. "Ethel and I agreed this morning that the story. Joey still didn't know that Charlie was dead, but his waiting home. But she couldn't tell us anything more about the kid's new fixation than we already knew. When she asked him why he stared up at the sky like that he'd say only that he wants something to remember the mood to look up. "Look," I said. "I know this sounds crazy but maybe Joey—" because it wasn't bright enough to suit Joey's taste, but Doc called "Don't joke about Joey," he said sternly. "Getting back to to reach us. That means it started moving when Joey was only eighteen I pointed out. "I'm not saying that Joey really moved those damn I trailed along, but we didn't get farther than Joey's wheelchair. There he sat, tense and absorbed, staring up at the night sky. Doc and I followed his gaze, the way you do automatically when somebody on the I left Doc shaking his head at the sky and went over to give Joey, who encourage the kid in his crazy thinking. "Joey's heard everybody it, so he's excited too. But he's got a lot more imagination than most people, because he's a cripple, and he could go off on a crazy tangent taken for granted as being facts all his life, like those astronomers who were going nuts in droves all over the world. I didn't realize how upset Doc really was, though, till he woke me up at about 4:00 a.m. "I can't sleep for thinking about those stars," he said, sitting on wide enough awake to sit up in the dark and listen while he unloaded his worries. "I'm afraid," Doc said, "because what is happening up there isn't "The trouble with you educated people," I said, "is that you think your experts have got everything figured out, that there's nothing in the world their slide-rules can't pin down. Well, I'm an illiterate they're blue in the face and they'll never learn who put really dark. Joey was sitting as usual all alone in his wheelchair. In Doc had given him to study. The thing that stopped me was that Joey was staring at his feet as if they were the first ones he'd ever seen, and he had the same look of intense concentration on his face that I'd seen when he was watching the stars. I didn't know what to say to him, thinking maybe I'd better not mention the stars. But Joey spoke first. "Doc said this morning that I ought not to move any more stars," the kid said. "He says I ought to concentrate instead on learning how to "Doc says that if I can do what I've been doing to the stars then it ought to be easy to move my own feet," Joey said. "And he's right, Roy. So I'm not going to move any more stars. I'm going to move my things by looking at them. In a book Joey might have saved the world again. Walking was a slow business with Joey at first because his legs had got thin and weak—partially atrophied muscles, Doc said—and it took time to make them round and strong again. But in a couple of weeks he was stumping around on crutches and after that he never went near his School opened up a whole new world to Joey and he fitted himself into

<question>:
What makes Joey transition from watching the road to watching the sky?

<options>:
A He is finally told that Charlie cannot return home, so he believes he can rearrange the starts so he can still catch a glimpse of his beloved dog.
B He decided that the road no longer held anything for him.  The changing sky gave him more to see than the road ever did.
C He decides that Charlie is in Heaven, so he looks there to see him.
D His disease has progressed to the point that he can only hold his head in a position where he is looking up, now he can no longer look for his lost dog.

<answer>:

A