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

<passage>:
can—and often does—alter the scheme of the universe. Even a little child can do it.... to remember charlie by by ... Roger Dee Just a one-eyed dog named Charlie and a crippled boy named Joey—but between them they changed the face of the universe and named it Dugan, and after that he never said anything more about going to Michigan to find Charlie. It was only natural, of course, because kids—normal kids—forget their pain quickly. It's a sort of defense mechanism, Doc says, against the disappointments of this life. country for the sugar cane season. We never heard from Ethel and Joey ... perhaps. job in Tampa where Joey could walk to school instead of going by bus. "Anything wrong, Joey?" I asked. not especially interested now in where Ethel and Joey Pond are or how they're doing. But there's one thing I'll always wonder about, now that there's no way of ever knowing for sure. I wish I'd asked Joey or Ethel, before they moved away, how Charlie "What're you looking for up there, Joey?" I asked. Joey that time too, but he wasn't moving stars then. He was just highway. He was practically holding his breath, as if he was waiting for somebody special to show up, so absorbed in his watching that he didn't know I was there until I spoke. He reminded me a little of a He didn't jump or look up. His voice placed him as a cracker, either south Georgian or native Floridian. "I'm waiting for Charlie to come home," he said, keeping his eyes on the highway. Probably I'd have asked who Charlie was but just then the trailer door opened behind him and his mother took over. I couldn't see her too well because the lights were off inside the accents every day. "Let the boy alone." She was right about it being none of my business. I went on into the trailer I shared with Doc Shull and left the two of them waiting for Charlie together. Our trailer was dark inside, which meant first that Doc had probably gone out looking for a drink as soon as I left that morning to pick up We were halfway through supper when I remembered something the kid had said. "Who's Charlie?" I asked. Doc frowned at his plate. "The kid had a dog named Charlie, a big 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 wheelchair, straining his eyes across the palmetto flats. "You mean looking its screwball funniest with our arguments one or the other of 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 palmetto flats. He was always there, day or night, until his mother came home from work and rolled him inside. the kid didn't want another mutt because he had what Doc called a psychological block. "Charlie was more than just a dog to him," Doc said. "He was a sort of symbol because he offered the kid two things that no one else in the world could—security and independence. With Charlie keeping him company he felt secure, and he was independent of the kids who could run and play because he had Charlie to play with. If he took another dog now he'd be giving up more than Charlie. He'd be giving up everything that Charlie had meant to him, then there wouldn't be any with Joey than Ethel had, and the kid felt as safe with him as he'd have been with a platoon of Marines. And Charlie, being a one-man dog, had depended on Joey for the affection he wouldn't take from anybody else. The dog needed Joey and Joey needed him. Together, they'd been a At first I thought it was funny that Joey never complained or cried when Charlie didn't come home, but Doc explained that it was all a 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. said, but his eyes always went back to the palmetto flats and the highway, looking for Charlie. And he never let anything interfere with his routine. That routine started every morning when old man Cloehessey, the point to ride back by way of the Pond trailer and Joey would stop him 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." Then he'd pedal away, shaking his head. Later on the handyman would come around to swap sanitary tanks under the trailers and Joey would Charlie had come home and was scratching at the trailer ramp to be let in, and he'd wake Ethel and beg her to go out and see. When that happened Doc and I could hear Ethel talking to him, low and steady, until all hours of the morning, and when he finally went back to sleep and opened a beer because we knew neither of us would sleep any more till she got Joey quiet again. But this night was different. Ethel hadn't talked to the kid long when he yelled, "Charlie! Charlie! " and after that we heard both of them bawling. Doc and I looked at each other in the half-dark of our own trailer. "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 he'd given up waiting for Charlie. And the quiet way the kid spoke of "Books for Joey," Doc said. "Ethel and I agreed this morning that the Diner, that a tourist car with Michigan license plates had picked Charlie up on the highway and taken him away. It was a good enough story. Joey still didn't know that Charlie was dead, but his waiting was over because no dog could be expected to find his way home from Michigan. "Moving stars ?" Doc said when I told him. "Good Lord, Roy—" Charlie by. It was about nine o'clock, when Ethel went home to cook supper. Doc and I knocked off our cribbage game and went outside with our folding then stopped dead !" us. They stopped moving around midnight and we went to bed, but "Look," I said. "I know this sounds crazy but maybe Joey—" really moved you can be sure of two things—Joey had nothing to do 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. I left Doc shaking his head at the sky and went over to give Joey, who because he's upset about Charlie. The thing to do is give him a logical explanation instead of letting him think his fantasy is a fact." line worn threadbare by three hundred years of repetition but as apt tonight as ever, Roy. Do you really believe Joey is moving those stars?" I got home a little earlier than usual that night, just before it got 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 "Doc said this morning that I ought not to move any more stars," the walk again so I can go to Michigan and find Charlie." For a minute I was mad enough to brain Doc Shull if he'd been handy. Anybody that would pull a gag like that on a crippled, helpless finished because Joey Pond lost interest in it when he learned to walk again. Ethel sent him to school at Sarasota by bus and before summer vacation

<question>:
Why was Charlie not coming home to Joey?

<options>:
A Charlie had been taken to Michigan by another family
B Charlie was scared away by Joey moving the stars
C Charlie had been taken away by Joey's father
D Charlie had been killed on the highway

<answer>:

D