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. For instance, a scrubby little terrier followed him home from Twin Palms one day and Ethel let him keep it. He fed the pup and washed it ... perhaps. Inearly stumbled over the kid in the dark before I saw him. His wheelchair was parked as usual on the tired strip of carpet grass that separated his mother's trailer from the one Doc Shull and I lived in, but it wasn't exactly where I'd learned to expect it when I rolled He said, "No, Roy," without taking his eyes off the sky. He didn't move and from the tone of his voice I got the impression that he only half heard me. "I'm moving some stars," he said softly. I gave it up and went on to my own trailer without asking any more fool questions. How can you talk to a kid like that? Doc Shull wasn't in, but for once I didn't worry about him. I was staring ahead of him, waiting. He'd been sitting in his wheelchair at the west end of the carpet-grass strip, staring out over the palmetto flats toward the 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 ventriloquist's dummy with his skinny, knob-kneed body, thin face and "This is none of your business, mister," she said. Her voice was Southern like the boy's but with all the softness ground out of it from living on the Florida coast where you hear a hundred different 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. 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 heat, but at some time during the day he had bathed and shaved. He had even washed and ironed a shirt "Snapper steak again," he complained. "Roy, I'm sick of fish!" comfortable place. I was wrong there. It wasn't comfortable, but we stayed. Usually a pro like me sells his catch to the boat's owner or to some only worked a day or so a week and spent the rest of the time lying around the trailer playing cribbage and drinking beer with Doc Shull. Usually it was the life of Riley, but somehow it wasn't enough in this place. We'd get about half-oiled and work up a promising argument 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. It wasn't right or natural for a kid to wait like that for anything and it worried me. I even offered once to buy the kid another mutt but Ethel Pond told me quick to mind my own business. Doc explained that 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 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 natural. 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. The Ponds got used to Doc and me being around, but they never got what 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 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 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 moving the stars around worried me more, because it sounded outright 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 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 be the end of him if it isn't diverted into safe channels." I thought the kid had cracked up already and said so. "Moving stars ?" Doc said when I told him. "Good Lord, Roy—" It moved! " I didn't see anything serious about it and said so. You can see a partly because anything that excites Doc Shull that much is something to think about. We watched the star like two cats at a mouse-hole, but it didn't move again. After a while a smaller one did, though, and later in the night around the first one, forming a pattern that didn't make any sense to us. They stopped moving around midnight and we went to bed, but neither of us got to sleep right away. "Maybe we ought to look for another interest in life ourselves instead had called it a night and was hand-rolling his wheelchair toward the Pond trailer, a boost up the entrance ramp. I pushed him inside where Doc couldn't hear, then I asked him how things were going. He looked surprised. "Sure, it's not so hard once you know how." The odds were even that he was pulling my leg, but I went ahead anyway put those stars there. So how do they know that whoever put them there won't move them seen when he was watching the stars. "Roy," he said, without taking his eyes off his toes, "did you know that Doc is an awfully wise man?" I said I'd always thought so, but why? "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 And he wiggled the toes on both feet. It's a pity things don't happen in life like they do in books, because finished because Joey Pond lost interest in it when he learned to walk 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 wheelchair again. Ethel sent him to school at Sarasota by bus and before summer vacation the routine as neat as if he'd been doing it all his life. He learned a lot there and he forgot a lot that he'd learned for himself by being

<question>:
Why did Roy not sign on with the commercial fishing companies?

<options>:
A They did not pay a high enough percentage
B They only fished for Snapper which was very difficult
C They only worked out of Fort Meyers
D They did not allow him to move around as he pleased

<answer>:

D